Chelsea - More than a Name

I must confess I was very intrigued when Chelsea asked me to find Latin roots of her name. It was hard work (definitely worth $8 an hour, possibly $9?) and I learned some extremely valuable things about my most cultured sister while researching her name.
No joke, the first thing that came up was this: A North American slang term for a particular hairstyle popular with female skinheads. Needless to say I was quite shocked, but not worried. For those of you reading - it only get better.
While most of you know that Chelsea is a particular area of London, England, I bet you didn't know that it is often referred to as the "global ultra prime residence area" of London where it is "equally fashionable and expensive." (1, Wikipedia) Not a coincidence for sure. It is also known for it's small but chic LATIN AREA where many famous LATIN restaurants reside. I also compiled a list of important and influential people that have occupied the same area that our beloved sister is named for including:
Sir Francis Bacon
Eric Clapton
Johnny Depp
Judy Garland
Gwenyth Paltrow
JRR Tolkien
Margaret Thatcher
Mark Twain
Il Divo
AND Bob Marley wrote his hit "I Shot the Sheriff" in a one-bedroom flat in the Chelsea area.
In ancient times, the word Chelsea was written as Chelchith (Chelsea with a lisp?). Fortunately for Chels, the Brits eventually got the pronounciation right. Chelsea actually means "a landing place for chalk or limestone" (Bet we would have listened to Dad more on our trip through Southern Utah if we knew that all the limestone was related to Chels)
One in every 140,441 Americans is named Chelsea, but I was not able to find more than one Chelsea Jan Smart! Chels - you are SO original.
The sum of the alphabetical order of letters in Chelsea is 53, which makes her arithmetic buddies with words like Daring and Vocal.
One variation of Chelsea is the Latin name Chela, which is also the Latin slang word for beer. The nickname for Chela is "Che" as in "Che Guevera." One again - not a coincidence.
The Chelsea Drink was a low alcohol carbonated beverage created by Anheuser-Busch in the late 1970's. It was advertised as the "not so soft drink."
It is easy to see that our favorite East Coast sister is not simply another Chelsea. She is special, and so is her name. One again Durrell and Shelly - you guys have out-smarted us all.

*Pictures of Snick's new life are soon to come.

Truly Bored...and Truly French.

Its been a while since I've posted on the family blog and because I am so bored at work right now, I figured I would share with everyone the details of my monotonous day. Secretly, I love my new job. The people are nice and the phone never rings, so I get to read books (of my choice) all day. I've already organized every closet to be organized and color coded every pen/pencil box to be color coded. I've even arranged the post-it notes in an incredibly beautiful display. When my eyes start to go cross-eyed I usually take a break from reading. Currently, thanks to Mom, I'm reading a really great book called the 'Poisonwood Bible.' But that isn't the point. The point is, I have learned more at my new job than I have in a long time.
My very wise husband suggested that I start researching things on the internet so my brain doesn't get "fried." I asked him yesterday what I should research first and he said Stingrays. So I began my search on wikipedia and read all about Stingrays. Did you know they can grow up to 35 feet wide? Its true. Well, stingrays did kill Steve Irwin, so what did I do? Researched Steve Irwin. His wife is from Eugene, OR, where Nick served his mission - coincidence? I think not. After learning the hobbies, bloodtypes, and pet peeves of the Irwin family (Steve, Terri, Bindi and Bob) I went on to some slightly more intellectual topics including the origins of stainless steel cooking pots and Angelina Jolie.
Eventually, France got the best of me like it always does. I began looking up my favorite pieces of art in Paris and surrounding areas. Then I researched some of my favorite French artists (Rodin mostly). I was feeling quite French. I decided to check the origins of my name to see if possibly...I was meant to be "la premiere francaise" or the first french woman. For those of you who are bored and simply reading this to be polite, this is where it finally gets interesting. My name Sydney is technically an English name, BUT derived from a VERY VERY VERY french source. Saint Denis, the patron saint of my beloved country France is the root of my seemingly English "surname." When pronounced with the proper French accent, Saint Denis sounds more like S'Denny which equals Sydney in English! Needless to say, I not only felt extremely proud, (for Saint Denis is carved front and center on the Notre Dame) but also truly French. It has always been something that I have battled with throughout my life. Knowing that I had deep French roots, but not sure why. Fortunately for my future prosperity, they will experience the best of all three countries - America, France, and of course Ireland. Durrell and Shelly - You two were truly inspired when you named me. How can I ever thank you?

SNICK...it's official!

Hotter then Brangelina, posher then TomKat, SNICK became official in the Newport Beach Temple on May 1.


The whole fam got together last weekend in southern Cali to celebrate the happy couple. Despite our craziness, Nick still wanted to join our clan. I think Shea is pretty excited to have more testosterone around.





Syd of course looked amazing and Mom and Dad survived planning another wedding. Don't worry D & S only 3 more to go!

The twinners welcomed their new uncle by chowing down on the chocolate fountain and lots of in and out burger. They also enjoyed smothering Nick's family's "Hop Hop" but luckily it was pretty resilient. Nick's family was wonderful and so patient with all of us!

We are excited to have a new member of the Smart fam. I am hoping Syd hasn't mentioned Christmas caroling with reindeer antlers, trimming bushes with headlamps, or pool basketball--but I guess by this time its too late. SNICK-enjoy the honeymoon-Congrats!

Let Keith Eat Cake

Nick and I flew home last weekend for some pre-wedding festivities as most of you know. I'm still looking for pictures of my bridal shower so hopefully someone can get their hands on those. The whole weekend was one big success. It was so fun to have Melinda there and to see everyone. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see the twinners as much as I thought I would. Probably a total of twenty minutes. Which, I might add, is not sufficient for the favorite auntie and uncle. I had the pleasure of trying to stuff pears and crackers down Keith's throat. I couldn't figure out why he wasn't interested in all the wonderful healthy options in front of him. I turned around to see Nick, Shea, Puffy, Lela, and Melinda enjoying hearty pieces of Costco's Death By Chocolate cake. And could I deny sweet little Keith? No. He is worthy of chocolaty cake just like everyone else. So I let him have cake. Lucky for him, everyone in the room starting following suit and feeding him cake of their own. True to the smart name, he downed half of the cake by himself. Kudos to Darc and Brent for starting them young. What champions they will become. As a side note, Darcee is looking very cute and pregnant these days. Hopefully she can keep up with Nick, who is also looking slightly prego these days. He is pushing 190 and I am so proud! He is looking forward to an all-inclusive cruise with tons and tons of great food. We can't wait to see you all on Thursday! Its going to be a Party! Party! Don't let your mama know!.... I've been singing that all month!

Earth Day!

I know I am a day late but I am cutting myself a break considering jetlag and the 700 emails that were waiting for me upon my return from Africa. Yesterday was Earth Day and in celebration, we went to see the movie “Earth”, a documentary by Disney about the Earth, its plants and animals. I did fall asleep for a little bit (jetlag!), but it was really well done. Plus, proceeds from the movie ticket went toward planting a tree. In honor of the special occasion, I thought I would share some of my pictures from the safari I went on while in Tanzania. I promise tax dollars were well spent on the trip--in order to get to one of our sites we had to drive right through a game reserve. We could see lots of animals from the road but on the way back to the capital, we decided to get a closer look at the animals. It was cool to see the animals in their natural setting.

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Here is a video of a Male Elephant that was not happy with how close we got to his family.




More pics to come of the work while in Africa.

The Babysitter's Club

Lil' D and I were handling the boys last weekend while Mom was tie-hunting for Snick's wedding and Brent and Dad were at Priesthood. It was all going really well for us.
L.D. and I were deep in vital, sisterly conversation when we heard lots of crinkling and scratching coming from the dining room. We assumed the boys were playing with the cellophane on the giant Easter baskets Grandma She-She got them, so naturally, we continued our conversation. (Yes, I let my toddlers play often with cellophane and various other hazardous packing materials.)

When Cole let out a yelp of frustration, we decided we better check it out.






















Apparently, the boys had dug deeper than the cellophane wrapping and got down to the styrofoam hunk sitting at the bottom of the basket, just begging to be torn to shreds. Is anyone out there aware of the many destructive and annoying properties of which styrofoam balls are capable? They cling to EVERYTHING!!!

The first few seconds were spent in fits of hysterical laughter and Darel's picture-taking, followed by ingenious strategical planning to clean up a million balls of clinging styrofoam while keeping two curious boys at bay.
The best method in the end was "Divide and Conquer". I stripped the boys and kept them away while Darel cleaned up all the little static balls. Every time I see a lingering ball, I just have to laugh. Don't ever assume these two are innocent or incapable of causing severe damage to you or your personal property. (Yes, even you, Keith.)

As a side, if you know anyone that needs a sitter, give Darel or me a call. We prefer to work as a team. We are currently operating under the following marketing motto:

"No job is too big. No fee is too big."

"The World Wide Weapon!"

I went sno-boarding this past week with Brent at Mt. Hood Meadows. I have to admit that I was tearing it up. Well, that's the way I remember it. Okay...actually, I am a pretty sub-par boarder. I have been a very marginal snow boarder for a number of years. I used to blame my below average skills on the fact that I had lousy equipment. A number of years ago, I bought a used board from my brother Dave. I was too cheap to buy actual snow boarding boots--instead, I opted for a pair of stiff mountaineering boots. Without real boots, psychologically, I just couldn't progress.

That all changed the end of last boarding season. I was buying a new snow board on clearance for my most excellent son, when the "dude" (I hesitate to call anyone who has dozens of tatoos and even a greater number of visible body piercings a "salesclerk." He is simply the board shop dude.) who was assisting us suggested that I take a look at the new boarding gear for myself.

"So, old man do you own a board?"

"Yeah, I've been boarding for a while now."

"Sweet. I've got some mondo gear that will have you shreading the great white with your boy here.'

"Really?"

"*#%!! right dude. I've got just the board for you. We call it the 'World Wide Weapon.' It has earned more awards than any other board in the history of 'Snowboarder" magazine."

"Yeah, but will it help me keep up with my son and son-in-law?"

*#*%!! right dude. Your peeps will be calling YOU the 'World Wide Weapon.'"

"Hmmm." I thoughtfully mused. I am not going to lie--the thought of the next generation referring to me as the "World Wide Weapon" has powerful appeal. Admittedly, I have always liked WWF like monikers--you know, names like "The Undertaker", "The Real Deal" or "The Natural." You think twice before messing with a guy with a name like that.

Before I knew it, this Board Shop Dude whom I refused to give any respect as a Sales Clerk had totally worked me and had me shelling out over a $1,000 for gear that I truly believed would transform me into the "World Wide Weapon."

This year when I boarded with the Lil D and her easily manipulated friends, I demanded that they address me as the "World Wide Weapon."

"Hey Mr. Smart, when are we stopping for lunch?"

"Excuse you. You will address me as the 'World Wide Weapon' young man!"

"Sorry 'Mr. WWW', when are we stopping for lunch?"

Mission accomplished!

"'The 'World Wide Weapon' thinks that we will stop for lunch after one more run."

Respect like that does not come easily. It cost exactly $1,134.23!