We don't mean to brag...

'Bout Time

2012-02-13T10:44:00.001+09:00

He'll either blow out his candles... or commit a heinous crime

Surprise!!!

Bout time I wrote another update. We had Big Boy's surprise party on Friday and it was a hit. Our house was pretty crowded with people and we had too much cake. I was disappointed to find out that one of the girls I had invited just couldn't contain herself and went up to him the day before the party and spilled the beans. It wasn't accidental either. She said something to him like "you know what's going on tonight don't you?" This poor dear is kinda needy and really likes my son. I think she craves attention something awful. She's the same girl who tried planting a kiss on his lips in the middle of the gym at a youth activity last week. He turned and took it on the cheek. We're a bit concerned about her. I can't decide if I should call her out on the surprise ruining or not. I think she's just a bit mixed up but perhaps she should know that her actions have consequences. I won't be inviting her to my next surprise party that's for sure. And my boys have been warned against her swift lips.

In other news Middle Boy is driving me crazy. I am sure it's a result of all the attention his older brother is getting these days but sheesh! I can't seem to stop him from irritating everyone. He needs to get back into a sport that he likes because he has just way too much dead time on his hands.

Big Boy transformed an old remote control car into a car of Altoids. They are his favorite candy.... so.... why not make them into a car. It took a whole lot of hot glue but it was worth it.

Big Girl is gearing up for her birthday tomorrow. She's already put in an order for waffles in bed. I'll be glad when this week is over. I may take a week long nap.

Little Girl stubbed her toe tonight and needed a half hour snuggle afterwards. I guess everyone is a bit frazzled. No wonder I have been too busy to blog. I'm ready for a vacation. "A vacation from my PROBLEMS!" I love that movie (What About Bob).

Little Boy is cute as ever. He hates his kitchen job though and I gotta say- it shows. He is supposed to wipe down the table and put away the food after people finish eating. You'd think I was asking the impossible.

Recently I went though a bunch of old videos from my early days a mother. If I could tell that person something right now it would be that I needed to chill. I saw several things that I wish I could change. Why is it that we don't have the knowledge we need in this life until we go through stuff. It's the only way we learn I guess. I just wish I could put my 43 yr old brain into my 27 yr old head sometimes. Perhaps as I read over my blog posts in the future I'll think that 43 yr old Kelly didn't have a clue. No way out of this life but through I guess. So I'll just keep doing the day to day stuff and hope I learn what I was meant to learn.

Perfection

2012-01-31T11:32:00.000+09:00

For years my husband has been trying to make me the perfect fried egg. I've told him how I like it. Not too underdone, not too overdone. I've coached him about keeping the heat down and not seasoning it before it's cooked. He continues to try and I'm sorry to say that he continues to miss the mark. I feel like a heel for not hiding my feelings about his egg when he offers it to me. He asks, with eyes hopeful, "how was your egg?" "Good but a bit overdone" Is usually my reply. I am nothing if not honest.

I think, no I know there have been a few bad meals I have dished him up over the years. He never complains. Yet somehow you just know when the mark has been missed. Bless his heart he really does try to get my eggs right but usually I offer to make one for myself... and he knows why. It's because I know how I like it. I also know how I like my pancakes but that's another topic for another day.

He just wants to please me and is so eager to learn so the other day I gave him a few more clues to the way I like them fried. I suggested keeping the temperature lower and cooking it longer. Making sure not to crack the egg into a cold pan. He came and showed the egg to me while I was getting out of the shower. Looked okay! He put it on a slice of toast for me. I was in a rush and thought I might have to get the egg to go, but there was still a few minutes on the clock for me to sit down and eat. I cut into my egg and watched it run all over the plate. Too runny. You know it's really hard to get it medium soft! I'm not quite sure how I do it but I think it's the experience I've had at the skillet making eggs for so many over the years and my internal clock just knows when to say when. I was honest about my egg. But I was also grateful for the effort and I ate it anyways.

At least T still has something to look forward to perfecting in his future. He has to have one flaw : )

What's New?

2012-01-25T02:00:00.001+09:00

Since I have been slackin' and I need to catch up quick, here's a short list of what has been going down at my place.

!-Big Boy has heard back from 2 of the 4 colleges he applied to. Both said yes! Utah State and and BYU Idaho. We are now in the process of nagging him to fill out scholarship applications. Wish us luck! We still have our fingers crossed for BYU Provo. Only because that is where we have a lot of family. It would be nice knowing another mother is close by to knock him on the head when he needs it.

@-T and I had a NYC get away! It was just overnight but it was sure fun to get away. We saw a broadway play (How to Succeed) and T spoke at the Vetran's hospital in his dress uniform. Walking down the streets of NY with him in full uniform was a funny thing. He got lots of sideways glances, one salute and a hearty "Thank you Sir!" from one man. I was proud to be on his arm. And he looked pretty handsome too : ) I had about 4 thank-you notes to write we returned. So many nice friends pitched in to help out with my kiddos. Even when Little Girl was at high risk for barfing during her overnight stay.

PS our edgy hotel had zebra print light fixtures!

the ceiling at Union Station where we caught the early train to NYC

#- I am in hyper-planning mode getting ready for Big Boy's surprise birthday party on the 10th. He turns 18 on the 8th so I plan on a simple family party that day and a big surprise shindig on the 10th. Our theme (because I must have one) is a tribute to red-heads. Guests are encouraged to come dressed as their favorite red-head or wear a provided orange bandana. We will serve carrot cake, mandarin orange salad, and ginger ale. Orange jelly beans will fill our new jelly belly dispenser. We're having a game of "name that red-head" with orange prizes. An epic orange dart gun war. It might be embarrassing for him, but it should be fun too. We shall see...

$-T and I are coming up on our 20th anniversary. We are trying to plan a get away but it hasn't quite come together yet. It feels weird trying to plan something when we just got back from NY. We were thinking about a cruise (but no longer- thanks Italian cruise ship captain for confirming my worst fears about a cruise). Maybe a beach house rental, a bed and breakfast somewhere... any suggestions?

%- Notice how I have been using symbols instead of numbers? Weird how I made that mistake with Number 1 and accidentally typed ! So I just went with it for the rest of the list. I'm wacky. Even stranger is the fact that some of the symbols actually went with my topics. Look again if you're in denial and believe me when I say it wasn't on purpose. I got nothing for % so I better end. Have a great Tuesday.

Blessed Christmas

2011-12-26T23:55:00.002+09:00

It's the day after Christmas and all through my house,
are things to be picked up by me and my spouse.
My new rule says kids must pick up their messes.
The darts from new dart guns, the games and doll dresses.

For the new plan clearly states,
that after I ask
by shouting "CLEAN SWEEP"
they must all start the task
of sweeping the room of their most beloved items.
Because if in my grasp?
Those things go bye bye *ahem*

It should be made known that I have several sacks,
full of old cast offs
for other folk's shacks.
You'll recall my post here,
were I clearly state,
that we have too much stuff
in our middle class estate (perhaps you relate?).

The donation pile grows as my children slack off,
and leave on the floor the undies and socks.
I'm showing some mercy when collecting such things,
as coats, violins, and brand new mood rings.
But I'm trying to use my best poker face,
when stating that everything must have it''s place,
and if it is left out- I've stated my case.
Some other kid's mom will have to make chase,
over things left on floors...The next tactic is mace.
(just kidding- don't call social services on me!)

But the day after Christmas is such a hard day,
for keeping things tidy.
Kids just want to play,
and moms are so tired and merciful too.
Parents are just happy the kids have stuff to do,
before toys get boring and they all cry boo hoo.

So I'm turning my gaze to more peaceful thoughts,
of how nice it is to have T home washing pots
For hugs from my oldest- Happy this year?
Seems someone put nice-boy-dust into his ear.
I'm grateful for kids who are healthy and sound.
For a cancer-free brother two feet on the ground.

Could be, this blessed day made my evil side flip.
Perhaps trials of others make me double dip,
and re-think the importance of a perfect clean house,
with crumbs much to small for the interest of mouse.

I'm just glad we're together under cold drafty roof,
playing apples to apples eating food that goes "poof" (as it disappears rapidly see?)
Happy for foot-rubs and good luvin' from Troy.
Grateful for each little safe girl and boy.
That is what trials in this life can do.
It can make you feel glad it ain't happenin' to you.

It can make your heart grow as you think of the stress
That others experience
and count yourself blessed.

Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! We sure did : )

Mourning with Those Who Mourn

2011-12-21T00:42:00.000+09:00

Tragic news yesterday evening. Just as we were about to go ding dong ditching for Family Night I got a call from my Dad. I was in the laundry room doing.... laundry when he called to tell me. At first I thought it would be about my brother with cancer, but no. My lifelong girlfriend with 11 children had found her 2 year old drowned in their family pool just that afternoon. She has a 3 week old baby, it's 6 days before Christmas and now she has to bury her 2 yr old girl. I let out a wail of sorrow for my friend. My son came running to see what was the matter.

I tried to keep upbeat during our outing but every time my kids would exit the van to plant goodies on a neighbor's porch, I'd put my hand to my forehead and just feel helplessly sad. I thought about calling her when we got home but I know she will be informing her family and talking to them the first day. She is the youngest (along with a twin) of 12 children in their family. So I sent her an email and ordered flowers for her. I wish there was more I could do. I want to ask my friends to facebook to pray for her, but somehow it feels like the wrong place to share such news.

I keep looking at my healthy children and being grateful for them (even my teenager). I barked at my 4 yr old this morning and felt terrible right afterwards. She knows I am upset and keeps giving me love this morning. Such an intuitive child.

As I laid awake last night, thinking of my friend, I thought of her motherhood tasks ahead that will be hard. Like looking at that pool, or folding her daughter's clothing as it comes through the wash. Unwrapping her presents and returning them. Seeing her sippy cups in the cupboard. If I were her neighbor I would offer to come and take care of some of those tasks for her, but not until after I first gave her a huge hug.

I know that she will see her daughter again and that the atonement is real. I know families are forever. But this really sucks all the same. Nobody gets through this life without trial. It's just part of the deal, but for now I am angry and sad that this happened to my friend. I wish I could make this better. Not gonna happen.

Gratitude

2011-12-20T02:06:00.000+09:00

I just had a sweet experience. One of my primary students just knocked on my door with a handmade note telling me he was thankful for having had me as his teacher this past year. He started to cry when I told him he would be missed in my class. His mom and I teared up as well. Man does it ever feel good to be appreciated! I seem to have forgotten what that feels like.

Then, just now, I started musing about my own boys when they were young. About a time when I revealed to Big Boy the truth about St Nicholas. I was the teller of this secret to my son because he was getting to be an age where kids at school might tease his sweet believing soul. He looked up at me and instead of the feeling of betrayal most kids might feel his was an expression of thanks. "All that time it was you?" he said in amazement. "Yep- I am Santa's helper" said I. "Gee, Mom- THANKS!" was what came next out of his mouth, and then lots of questions about how on earth we could afford it. Typical first child worries.

I need to remember that sweet guy in there. I know he is still in there somewhere underneath all the hormones. I'm glad my primary student came by today to remind me...

Are you Ready?

2011-12-15T23:57:00.000+09:00

Are you ready for Christmas? I almost am! I still need to do a few small things like buy enough gift bags and send off my Christmas cards but I am about there. Oh- I do have a sewing project to make but if that doesn't happen then I will just rejoice in the fact that I have a daughter with a birthday on Dec 31st! Nothing like putting off something for another celebration and pretending you were totally on top of it.

This year my tendency to get it done early came back to bite me. My husband was shopping with a couple kids for our family's secret Santa gift exchange and my oldest saw a book he has been pining for. He had enough money to buy it for himself but my husband (knowing I had it in store for him for Christmas), would not let him buy it. I am convinced more and more that the teenager stage is very similar to the terrible-two-tantrum stage, because the rest of the evening was just one big tantrum. When he figured out why he couldn't buy his book he got super mad at me (of course me!) for always buying things too early. I guess they should just call social services on me because I shop early. Shame on me.

I really felt bad that I had a son who would have this illogical/spoiled reaction. Telling me I ruin Christmas every year for him because I don't consider what he wants and give him enough time to come up with a wish list. I am half tempted to give him nottin' for Christmas 'cause he ain't been nottin' but bad. But part of me thinks that is just a revengeful thought. We were just going to get him luggage for college but that seemed a bit sad so he had a few other real gifts... but now? Not so sure... Oh how I wish I had a magic 8 ball telling me what to do.

Another puzzle lately is Big Girl. She just hasn't been herself lately. I don't know if it's the anticipation of the holidays stressing her out, or a girl at school who has been a bit of a bully, or her big brothers teasing her but she is an emotional mess. Maybe I am not so used to girls and their emotions. She did have a bit of shell shock last week when cutting off all her hair to donate. I thought that had worn off though. This morning she was so blue I started getting worried. The thought came to me while cleaning up the dishes that perhaps she just needs me to paint her nails with crackle nail polish. She has been asking for some. I have been meaning to get some. But what she's really in need of isn't the manicure, it's the time with me. It's my approval. I hate the kinds of TV shows she chooses (Sonny with a Chance, Wizard's of Waverly Place), and when I show my dislike for such shows claiming they are too mature for an 8 yr old she gets super offended. Like I don't like her or something. Should I give Sonny a chance? Or hold my ground here? Not sure...

Before Big Cut

After

The look on her face says it all...

Now we just need to mail these braids to Locks of Love

Dear Santa what I really want this year for Christmas is the insight of my mother who is no longer here to ask advise from. She'd know just how to fix these problems I keep having. In the mean time I am off to buy crackle nail polish and try to paint my way back onto her good side today after school...

The Purge Before the Binge

2011-12-08T22:33:00.000+09:00

So it all started when I was getting ready for a visit from a relative. I'm wired to start organizing only when I know someone may be looking in these closets with a judgmental eye. And really, who does that better than a visiting sister right? So the linen closet and medicine cabinets got the once over. Purging expired medication and other odds and ends I wasn't using felt liberating. Our 40 yr old house wasn't build with roomy closets either so extra space is a blessed thing here.

My sister came and went, and I'm not sure we slowed down long enough for her to look inside any of my medicine cabinets, but it felt good knowing they were cleared out. On November 29th I felt the need to purge again due to a truck picking up donations in my neighborhood the following day. Alas I read the date wrong and what I thought read Nov 30th was actually Nov 03. So 8 bags of stuff from my playroom now sit in the corner waiting to be asked to the prom (just kidding- I am aware that there is no prom for discarded playroom toys, I just liked saying that). That's a lot of toys that I now have to keep secret from my children until the next pick up. Big Boy is the most sentimental of all of my kids and he has already unloaded one trash bag full of stuffed animals. Some have not been played with for 4-5 years. Maybe he will find some room in that new Samsonite luggage of his for the 4 ft stuffed alligator he loves so much.

My purging has not stopped with the toy room. For the better part of a day I spent my time sweating over the stuff of my laundry room all the while thinking of stuff I could be putting in this place instead. Food storage instead of leaky air mattresses. New camping gear instead of outgrown snow boots. I even got rid of all the unmatched solo mittens. I tell ya, nothing (almost) feels better than getting rid of unused items just taking up space. To me it even beats bringing home something new. So now I have several trash bags taking up space just waiting to be donated. My husband may have to help me load up the van on his next day off. I'm used to moving every 3-4 years with the military, which forces one to do this sort of thing. It looks as if we are here for a while though so I need to force-purge.

So all this getting rid of stuff comes before the Christmas Holiday where we will accumulate more stuff to fill those empty spaces, but I am figuring something out this year, something new. When I see the things that go unused (some of which are gifts from last year still unopened!) I tell myself to slow down and be more thoughtful about what I get. We don't really need stuff do we? What we really need is more time together. Time to enjoy one another. Experiences mean more to me than things. So this year as I wade through the stuff of Christmas pasts, I am hoping to make my gifts more thoughtful and meaningful and less. Just less stuff. Even the stocking stuffers I am purchasing with more sense of purpose. Maybe nobody will notice my emphasis this year. Maybe by the 24th it will end up being the same overload of things. Still I feel like this purging has given me a bit of perspective. It's like the Grinch learned on Christmas morning... that Christmas doesn't come from a store.

Merry Christmas to you! Hope you don't get too much this year : )

Long Time No Blog

2011-12-04T12:03:00.000+09:00

Hi Blog!
I will tell you a reason I have been a blog-slacker lately. My Silver Bullet died. The Silver Bullet was my laptop that sat at the kitchen table and it was old. Silver Bullet was a misnomer because it was the slowest of our 3 computers. It was silver though... sigh, I will miss her. She was the most accessible being in the kitchen and since she was old I didn't bother worrying about eating while serving the web on her. The cord tripped me and bent so badly coming out of the S. Bullet that it is not repairable. Since the computer was on it's last legs anyways, it's probably best just to let her rest in peace. I miss her though. The playroom is just too far away to go to unless there is something I really need to do. The other computer has an uncomfortable stool you sit on in a cramped space and makes me feel icky when I sit at it for too long. This is where I sit now and my lower back begs for me to quit. Let's hope Santa is generous this year and I get a replacement. One can't be too hopeful though since I did get the newest iphone for my birthday last month. It's pretty much replaced Silver Bullet and then some. Love that Siri feature!!

Anyhow, I am blogging tonight about my Christmas preparations.... boring? Maybe but I thought it worth mentioning that I have a son (Little Boy) who is so quirky and he is asking for some crazy stuff from me this year. He is 12 and a 7th grader this year- so keep that in mind. Most kids grow out of the 'toy' stage and want video games or clothes or phones, etc. He has asked me for a mini fridge. Yes- it's true, a mini fridge. Maybe that isn't so out there because what kid wouldn't want cold soda in their room? He's not getting a mini fridge. Nor does he get a lot of soda. I just think it's odd that he thinks he has a chance at one. He knows how I feel about eating outside of the kitchen. This doesn't mean he follows this rule, but he knows. The other thing he has asked for is a U-shaped travel pillow. The kind you use to take a nap when flying somewhere. He is by no means a frequent flyer. I have no idea why he wants this. He then added another item to his wish list today. The boy wants a stop watch. "The circular kind they use in the movies that you hang on a chain" I am beginning to think he might be an old man, possibly the man from the game Monopoly... Next he will be asking for a top hat and a monocle.

The other observation I have is my 4 yr old seems to have a keen eye for what people may want/need for Christmas gifts. I believe she may have inherited this from me! No lie- I am an observer and take note when people express an interest in something.... and then I give it to them! Doesn't that make you want me for a friend? Well the reason I think she also has my gift is that when I asked her what she thought Grandpa T would like for Christmas she stated that Grandpa would like marbles. When I asked why she said "he collects them." Then I remembered our visit there in October when Grandma T got out a box of marbles that she told us where Grandpas when he was a boy. I then asked what she thought I should buy for her Father and she said pajama tops because he only has the bottoms. Know what? She is exactly right on that! My husband prefers his undershirt to pajama tops. She must be a super observer like her older brother Middle Boy.... (who's name she happened to pick for Secret Santa and she wants to replace his deceased hamster with a new one. So thoughtful!)

Well, I think I need a back massage now as this stool is killing me-this writing spot is not my happy place.

Here's hoping that your holiday shopping is going as well as possible!! If you need any tips just let Little Girl know, she has all the answers.

Blogging instead of Brining

2011-11-24T22:01:00.000+09:00

I got up early to brine the Turkey. I am now distracted by the internet, and I'm thinking I may have missed the brining boat anyways. As I recall it didn't make a huge difference last year so I am not going to cry big salty tears over it. Although, now that I think about it... huge salty kosher tears may help tender my bird a bit. Perhaps I should think of something sad while giving him his sink bath and paper towel pat down. It wouldn't take much to make me cry as I am a crier by nature. I cry these days when thinking about my poor suffering brother. I cry over a misunderstanding I have recently had with someone, I cry while listening to This American Life, I cry when I think about my oldest leaving the nest. Well... for that last one maybe I just get misty. He can still be a teenager you know.

But on this Thanksgiving morning I should not be thinking about sad things. I should be focusing on what I have to be thankful for. For I truly believe that when you are down, all you need to do is make a list of what is good in your life and things will start to look up. It's a tried and tested theory in my life. And giving thanks IS my love language after all. So here goes!

Lately I have been thankful for my body. I know- weird right? But as I progress in years I look at my mortality a bit more and think about what I can do to make this vehicle last for the long haul and not have it get in my way by slowing me down with problems. So for totally selfish reasons I have started working out with more regularity. I've stopped making excuses like "my bed is too comfy this morning" and I have been walking with some friends (about 3 miles) each morning. I tried running but my body just isn't there yet. I get ankle and foot pain that tells me to stop. And yes, I have good shoes. I have also been taking an intense 'cage fitness' class on Tuesdays. I like telling people that "I am training to be a cage fighter" and then I watch for signs of a Napoleon Dynamite fan. It's a good litmus test for coolness. So the fun part has been seeing myself progress. It has been good and I am proud of myself. I have now lost 10 lbs due to this and eating better. So I can say that I am thankful for my body this Thanksgiving. Then I can eat with careless abandon and feel sick afterwards! (Seriously- I tried eating pizza and fries the other day for my birthday and I about vomited afterwards. I think my body was rebelling..... what's up with that?!)

I am thankful for the Gospel in my life. I look around at the things of the world and all it's madness and I am so grateful for the guidance I have. I am so glad I was raised the way I was -in a religious home. For things that just come naturally to me, like eating meals together, spending time together as a family, praying and reading scriptures as a family. Those things have made a huge difference in my life and I hope to pass it on. My church means everything to me.

I am thankful (every day) that we have enough money. Things have been tight in the past and I am grateful for those times too and for the lessons that struggle brings. This year, however, I am thankful for the abundance we have been blessed with. All those years in school and residency were worth it. Now don't get crazy thinking we are rich. We aren't. But I am thankful we can give our children braces and music lessons with out sweating it too much. Now I am thinking we need to pay it forward and bless someone else. What a better way to show gratitude than to help someone else?

Well now it's almost 8:00 am and I'm thinking it's time to roast the mushrooms for the stuffing. Can't miss that boat! (the mushroom boat- ha!) Here's to hoping that Big Boy won't even notice them in the mix.

Happy Thanksgiving to my bloggy friends!!!

Samsonite vs Superman

2011-11-21T10:50:00.001+09:00

This year for Christmas I am fully expecting my oldest son to be disappointed. The reason being that he will be getting no fun stuff for the holidays. We need to outfit this baby bird for leaving the nest soon and that means getting things like bedding for a dorm room, a plastic trash can, a cheap full-length mirror, a year supply of Ramen, possibly a laptop, and his own luggage.

I recently found a good deal on some Samsonite luggage, so I bought him two suitcases online. When the packages arrived outside my door I wondered where I could hide such big boxes until December 25th. I decided to shelf them in the garage and hoped that all the other clutter would camouflage the existence of my practical surprise. I tried turning the box so that the word 'Samsonite' would not be so obvious. Unfortunately the advertising appears on more than one side of the box. I knew that my oldest would be none the wiser. However, my second child has super observation powers, and I mentioned to my husband that it would probably take less than 3 hours before he would start questioning us. I think I was pretty much dead on. Middle Boy asked my husband in the car "what does Samsonite stand for?" My husband said "I'm pretty sure that's something your mother wants to be kept a secret- but I am also sure it won't take you long to figure it out..." The challenge was on.

A few days later my sweetheart and I had a small getaway opportunity thanks to a visiting sister. We had to get our luggage out from under the stairs. As soon as the brand on our luggage was noticed by our 2nd son we heard him moan "So that's what's in the boxes! I was hoping for something more fun than that!" Sorry to disappoint. Also sorry to say that they are not for him. This time the word Samsonite was brought up again in the company of my 12 yr old boy (Little Boy). He walked in totally unaware (as is his norm) and spoke up with the statement "Isn't Samsonite the thing that weakens Superman?" We all had a good laugh at that one.

Big Boy is still clueless about what is inside those mystery boxes in plain sight. Let's hope it stays that way for a bit longer. If only my nemesis can keep his big mouth shut.

Re-Cap

2011-10-31T11:06:00.003+09:00

October has been a whirlwind. To cap it off we ended with our first snow of the season two days before Halloween. We have had some challenges this month. I had two weeks worth of headaches that ended in an emergency root canal. Hate having a root canal, but love having no more headaches. Luckily we figured out the problem on the day before we had tickets to see Les Miserables at the Kennedy Center. Otherwise I would have been one miserables audience member. My appointment with the endodontist was quite the event. Because of the emergency situation I had to bring my two youngest with me and they weren't able to come back in the room during my proceedure. I cringed when I saw the lack of child friendly items in their waiting room. However with the help of Big Girl and her awesome imagination, they played 'where did I hide the hair-clip on my body' for an hour and a half. The receptionist was super impressed.

T has been quite busy at work this month. November will be a welcome break. We even have a relative coming to spare us for an over-night-escape. We still need to plan where we will go, but it won't matter as long as we are alone and in love : ) And I truly love that man. I remember how I used to fret when he'd be gone for work too much, but now I seem to take it in stride knowing that at least when he is here, he is all here. He spends his time devoted to us, not sitting in front of the computer or the TV. It also helps knowing that he does not wish to be away. It's just as hard for him to be away from us as it is for me to fly solo when he isn't here. I wish I had learned this lesson back in residency. I would have been happier. Perhaps the deployment has helped me gain this mature perspective.

Middle Boy had a birthday on 10-10. He made me a list of things he wanted. He then rated the wanted items with a '1' or a '2' based on the amount of desire he had for said items. Here was his list... Psyche (season 5)-1, a set of nun chucks-2 (yeah right!), a cool ping pong paddle-1 (the boys are obsessed with this game lately), a Hollister sweatshirt-2, money-1, video game (Prince of Persia)-2, a cool tie-1 (this kid is into fashion), moccasins-1, head phones-2, paint ball gun-1 (another yeah right!). What can I say? The boy dreams big. Here are some photos of what he did score on his big 15 yr old day...

A slick new paddle we'll call the Black Mambaaaaaa!

He loves Phyche... He also has brilliant powers of observation just like the main character from the sitcom.

Ah, the smell of money! He loves money too.

We found his missing cell phone earlier this day so we wrapped it up as a surprise.

He was thrilled and instantly went into txt mode

Sharing an Appreciation

2011-10-23T20:21:00.001+09:00

Hello dusty blog that I have not written in for so long. How are things? I have been absent for what seems like a while but really, it's been less than a week. Sometimes I try and stay away from blogging and focus on the important stuff. Then an idea will come to me that I feel just needs to be written down. Life gets in the way sometimes too. That is what has been happening to me lately. A lot of life. But it's time to get back on the horse.

I was in charge of a relief society meeting this month. My area of focus was marital and family relations. I called upon LDS social services to recommend a therapist to speak to us. After a lot of phone tag and schedule re-arranging, I had a speaker. She did a great job. Since it was Halloween I tried to throw in a spooky theme. Some may have not appreciated my flyer, but overall I had a good response...

Relationships Can Be Scary!

Come to this month’s Relief Society meeting to keep things on the right track.

It was odd that a new family moved into the ward the same week as my announcement was posted all over the church with the last name of Adams.

So since our session with the marriage and family therapist we have a new way of speaking to one another in my home. We ask "may I have a discussion with you?" permission is (sometimes) granted, and then we proceed with "when you did _______ it made me feel_______" this is then repeated back by the listener. As cheesy as it might sound it has helped work out a few differences where I thought no resolution was in clear sight.

There is also the even funnier "may I show an appreciation for you?" "yes you may" "I admire your sense of style" or "I like the way you make dinner" etc etc. The problem with the wording of this one is that my smart alec son likes to say that 'sharing an appreciation' is sharing information about something monetary that has gone up in value recently. Cheeky!

So readers, may I share an appreciation with you? Thanks for reading and commenting on my slow moving blog. It makes me feel validated and listened to. Thank you!

SO grateful!

2011-10-18T11:46:00.000+09:00

I have had the most stressed out day. Today was the day of my brother's surgery for a racquetball sized tumor that had been found in the right side of his face. He has been at the Mayo clinic receiving treatment. He has 8 children. He is one of the most good natured people you will ever EVER encounter. I was pretty upset with God for choosing someone as great as my brother to do this sort of thing to. First He took my nearly perfect mother 22 years ago (cancer) and now my even more perfect brother! Not FAIR! I found myself killing ants the day after I heard this awful news about Eric and as I smashed them with my angry thumb I thought to myself "this is what God does.... he says 'I'm taking you, and now you, and you're next... smash smash smash'" It took me a few days to simmer down but once I humbled myself a bit I started in asking for forgiveness first and for favors next. Eric and his family have been the subject of much fasting and prayer around here. I've been so worried at times that I have unloaded my bad new on unsuspecting check-out clerks, walking buddies, and today on a pre-school teacher who wasn't even my kid's teacher. We were just sitting on the bench together watching the kids play outside on the playground and the next thing you knew I was spilling it out for her. I mentioned my name to her upon parting. Poor lady must have thought I was losing it. I am.

Today, on surgery day, as I thought about how mangled my brother's new face might look, I forgot to bring a field trip permission slip along with 6.00 that was due. I asked for a new one. I went home, showered, looked up gross facial reconstruction photos on the internet, stressed out, went grocery shopping and tried not to tear up in public as I went through the self check out. I was in a hurry to pick up Little Girl from pre-school and forgot to pay for a gift card... When I realized, (in the parking lot) my mistake, I looked up to the heavens and promised that I would be honest and return to pay if He would grant a miracle on the surgical table today. He must really care about that 15.00 I owed Safeway because a miracle was granted (and yes I did return and pay). I don't even care that I had to humble myself (again!) and ask for a 2nd field trip permission form in front of the one lady at pre-school who annoys me. Eric's surgery went great! So much better than we had thought. You can read about it here. He started his blog as an update for family but he is such a great writer that you might just want to scan back and start from the beginning. You will see why I am so inspired by this perfect brother of mine. Thank you to all of you who have been praying for him and his family.

Eric and almost all of his family before leaving for his surgery.

Right Now

2011-10-01T11:25:00.000+09:00

Right now there is laundry to do, a flower girl dress to sew, sleep to be had, and a chocolate bar in the cupboard calling my name repeatedly. 'NO Hershey!' I shout back to it. So I type on my blog instead to vent-my-thoughts. Here is what is boaring holes in my brain tonight.
1-My perfect brother Eric has cancer and it's pretty bad...
2-My teenager is being a teenager. Bad teenager Bad!
3-I need to finish sewing Little Girl's flower girl dress in the next 5 days before we head to Provo for my sister's wedding.
4-I seem to be coming down with another cold just before our flight and that really makes me mad!
5-My bad teenager gave me this cold (same as last time). I want to put a safety bubble between us from now on. Perhaps this bubble could have multiple purposes.... less germs, less arguing. I love him, but he's killing me. Killing me softly.
6-I am amazed that there is not a single slip to be purchased in the area. I wanted to get the puffy kind to wear under the dresses for the flower girls (Big & Little Girl are both in the wedding). When I asked the salesman if they had petticoats he showed me something like this:

Yes, a petite coat indeed. Not a petticoat though. That man had no business working in a little girl's dress shop. Either that or I need to pronounce things better. Even the bridal shop with fancy little girl's dresses had no such thing as a petticoat. Is this the reason for the decline in morals in our society? I know my step mom used to get a bit worked up if we pre-teens didn't wear our slips. Perhaps I should write my congressman and let him know. Life goes on. Luckily you can buy things on the internet. I am proof of that I tell ya! Unluckily I sometimes get things wrong when ordering online. I click things twice and get double what I wanted. I misjudge sizes, I imagine things better then they really are in real life. I then put these unwanted items in the closet with the intent of mailing them back. Sometimes my closet works like the Bermuda Triangle though and I forget all about them. I bet I have quite a bit of money saved up in returns right there. You could look at the bright side and say that when I do get around to returning them, that my Christmas savings will have been right there in the closet the entire year!

I guess that is all the rambling I will do for tonight. Please pray for my brother. I think I will go get that chocolate bar now.

Kelly

A Question of Taste

2011-09-26T11:22:00.001+09:00

I watch Project Runway. I love to sew but hardly find time it seems. Too busy watching reality TV I suppose. This season there are some real jerks on the show making for great drama. I have also been fired up at the way the judges are so condescending and say rude things about 'pureeing the squash in that blouse' I puree things! Nina Garcia loves to question everyone's taste levels. I question her pureeing skills! Good thing I love Tim Gund. He makes it work!

I have to wonder about some of my family member's taste levels. My Little Boy picks the most terrible outfits to wear to school. Orange and red mixes (not in a good way). Baggy, ill fitting hand-me-downs. Where is his pride? Luckily he is still at an age where he will listen to my advise and change his horrible outfits. Big Boy would not be so easily persuaded. He might actually listen and alter his choices later, but to change just after my suggestion would be giving me too much power. But oh how I long for him to "lose" that green Orlando T-shirt he owns. Yes, the one with the hole in the armpit. The one I wasn't around to pick out. I believe it came home from a business trip my husband went on. Just ask my esthetically savvy girls about their Dad's business trip T-shirt selection. The blue T-shirt with the Canadian moose embroidered on the front went straight into the "grubby" category for Little Girl. She wears it over her nice shirts when she paints. I think Big Girl uses her over-sized red Canadian T with a backpacking, flag holding Teddy bear on it to sleep in. But only when every other set of PJs is in the wash.

The other day I heard Big Girl complimenting Middle Boy's new school back pack. It's black with trendy neon trim. The week before, Big Boy was saying how awful he thought his brother's choice of back pack was. We all see things a bit differently I guess. But I am noticing more and more that some of my kids know what looks cool and some do not. For instance, this morning Little Boy is wearing his new cross country, coach-issued-yesterday sports jersey to school.... as a shirt. His reasoning is that he has practice today... so that's one less thing to have to change. I asked if other kids did this with their sports jerseys. He couldn't be sure. Not the type to notice I guess. I am really smiling inside at his lack of fashion sense. He's like the character Rowley from Diary of a Wimpy Kid showing up on the first day of school wearing his Mexican surappe (blanket poncho). But you got to respect the fact that he just doesn't care what his peers think, and like Rowley that makes him likable by one and all. I can't say the same for Nina Garcia.

Breaking Out of the Box

2011-09-18T01:48:00.000+09:00

Awake

2011-09-16T21:26:00.000+09:00

This morning I awoke at around 4:40. My arm was cold. Why did we have the fan on anyways? I can feel the new season approaching. I love the Fall. My husband's alarm went off. I treated myself (and him) to some snuggling. His alarm goes off too early for my taste. He works out at this hour so that he doesn't take away from his time with us. How he is consistently staying up late and getting up early I do not know. My body would rebel.

Due to a head cold I have been battling I could not get back to sleep. So after some time had passed, I went to scratch Middle Boy's back until he was lucid enough to talk to me. It was time for him to get up for seminary. We discussed some of the details of the weekend. A camp out, a XC meet, a pasta dinner with his team. He got up gladly and I fed him pancakes. I also approached my 17 yr old. I tried humor to wake him. He didn't respond as well as his brother. Maybe I should have gone with back scratching. I wish I could change the friction that is between myself and my oldest. Alas, he is a teenager and I am his mother. He crossly informed me that I was waking him way too early. I told him I needed to chat with him about a couple things before school. Then as I went on (about 3 minutes in) he crossly informed me that I was making him late with all this talking. Sigh. I told him that if he could make his bed this morning, that I would make him a nice sack lunch (they usually do this for themselves-is this mean?). He informed me that I could make him lunch if I liked but he had no time to clean the room. I made his younger brother a lunch and then thought about what to do for Big Boy. If I made him lunch then I wouldn't be following through with what I had said now would I? But where is the love there? So I made him a sack of "snacks" instead. No sandwich! Just chips fruit and a cheese stick. That'll teach that little whipper snapper!

As I sat at my computer in the darkness, I thought about my week. It's been a dark one. I've been sick, I watched a sad move, 9-11 was remembered. Nothing too bright. I am a bounce back kind of person and don't like to be stuck in the muck. But sometimes I do take a trip on the downward spiral and have to find my way back to the top- the sooner the better. Reading my scriptures always helps me. Remembering my many blessings is another key. I thought about yesterday afternoon. We had a small miracle. Big Girl has been pining away for the loss of her ipod. It's an old ipod that has been passed down through a few of us (lest you think I spoil my 8yr old). I recently put a bunch of her favorite songs on it before a road trip. Her friend gave her a snazzy cover and charger that she wasn't using anymore. She couldn't have been more trilled with the decorative cherries. Then in the chaos of coming home and unpacking it was lost. It's been lost for over a week now. Every day she asks if anyone has seen it. She spent one Saturday afternoon making "missing ipod" fliers and passed them out to all of us.

The words read "She has cherries, she is gray!"

Fransisca was helping me that day (please bless that we can always afford help around here-it makes me so sane). I told Big Girl Fransisca would be the perfect person to ask if she had seen it. Fransicia got our hopes up by saying she had seen it in her room on her desk. Then she recalled that it was another kids desk in another home she just cleaned. Rats! Where's the miracle? Just wait!

So yesterday I tried to act sympathetic as she worried once again about her missing prize. She verbally went through where she had been when it was last seen with me. I suggested places she might look. Under couch cushions, in drawers, etc. Then she suggested she should probably pray and ask for help. I told her that was an excellent idea. To my surprise she dropped right then and there on her knees in the dining room and said her silent prayer. She got up, wandered around for about 5 minutes and then asked if she could climb on the counter top and look on top of the fridge. " Why not?" was my response. Would you believe that was right where it was!? She said the idea just popped into her head. Amazing! She dropped down in the same spot for a prayer of thanks. There are good things in this world after all!

And as I finish this post and look out the window- the sun is rising most beautifully.

Man's Inhumanity to Man

2011-09-16T04:22:00.000+09:00

Since our family decided to cut off the cable I get most of our news in my car. New announcements about killings in Afghanistan or shootings nearby fly through the airways and ring in my ears. My reaction is almost always the same. I tilt my head to the right and my eyes flit in the direction of the the radio. My brow furrows, my body language says 'did I just hear you correctly!?' Then I go back to thinking about my grocery list. I commit about 30 seconds of my thoughts to the sadness and loss... and then I move on. I like to think I am a compassionate person who has empathy for others and their pain. I have been through loss and pain in my lifetime. I get it. But I am also a practical person who has to get through her day. I may mention something about whatever bad news I have heard that day to my husband over dinner or chat about it with a girlfriend on the phone. But who is that really helping other than myself? Maybe I am not as good as I would hope.

Recently I watched a movie that got me thinking. I love it when movies do that to me. It was called The Conspirator directed by Robert Redford. It tells the story of Mary Surratt and her trial. She is called into question after her son and a group, including John Wilkes Boothe, plan and then assassinate President Lincoln. Because she ran a boarding house, and rented to some in the group, she is charged with conspiracy. The trial was unconstitutional due to the fact that she was not allowed a trial in front of a jury of her peers. Generals from the North decided her fate. She was a Southern woman and feelings between the North and the South were still raw from the civil war. I did not know my US history well enough to remember what the outcome would be as I watched this movie. I couldn't believe the result of her trial. I couldn't believe her son hid in safety and let his mother pay for his crimes. My hat is off to Mr Redford for a job well done in directing this movie. He made me cry like a baby (but that isn't hard).

My first thoughts after watching The Conspirator were that people of that day were so misguided and let prejudice blind their judgement. How glad I am to live in a country today that is not so divided. Then my thoughts turned to all the stories I had heard over the 911 weekend. One in particular stood out. Several Muslims in the San Diego area were interviewed about how they were treated just after the September eleventh attacks. These people attended the same mosque as the men who flew the airplanes on 9-11. They told stories of the hatred and disdain they felt from their community. They endured the mistreatment of their children and threats to their lives, and what did they do? Endured. They kept the doors to their mosque open. They still hold community outreach programs for the public. I really admire that strength.

Today as I dropped of some tennis shoes for my forgetful teen so that he could run with the cross country team after school, I caught a bit of the morning announcements. I heard this: "The gay and lesbian awareness club will be meeting in a new location at lunch today... room 314, all are welcome" My son overheard me remarking about this to a friend on the phone this afternoon. When I hung up, he made the comment that he didn't even hear that announcement and he was glad he didn't. I chose my next words carefully. "God loves all his children equally- I expect you to try and do the same."

It is this hatred of one another that gets us riled up and makes us crash into buildings... Makes us rush to judgement. Makes us invade countries. Make unkind comments. I am not sure what to do about the inhumane acts I hear about on the radio, but I know that in my home I will try my very hardest to teach humanity. Hopefully by my example.

I was proud to hear my kids playing nicely this afternoon (even though an hour earlier there were tears). Middle Boy helped his sister build a killer fort. When she then asked him if he would please help her find her missing ipod (an old hand-me-down she has been missing and making wanted posters for), his reply was classic. "I will help you with that tomorrow- only one nice thing per day." It would seem we still have some work to do at our house.

911 Remembered

2011-09-11T22:58:00.000+09:00

As we are all aware, the tenth anniversary of Sept 11th is today. It's a pretty somber occasion to recall. I recently went to the Newseum with my sons and got pretty choked up at the 911 display. They have one of the actual radio towers there for you to see and soak in. Hardly anyone who has lived through that day can leave the exhibit with dry eyes.

I will never forget the moment I saw the towers being hit live on the air during The Today Show. I was on the phone with my neighbor Crystal and we were discussing the first crash and weather it was an accident or not when the suddenly second plane hit. To say we were shocked would be a understatement. I was grateful to have a good friend on the phone with me when it happened. The next phone call I made was to another friend in the area who's husband was in the military with my own husband. I brought up the elephant sized question on both of our minds. "What do you think this will mean for our husbands?" I mean whoever did this was surely starting a war. We tried to console ourselves with the fact that most likely whatever war we got ourselves into would probably be over by the time our husbands were out of residency. We couldn't have been more wrong. Both of our husbands have deployed since then.

My husband just signed on for more time with Uncle Sam putting him at risk for deployment for another decade. I am not going to even speculate on the possibilities of our troops getting out of this mess (and yes I believe it's a mess) in the next decade. Sadly many American's actually believe that we are in Iraq because of 911. I am not one of those Americans. But that is a post for another day.

After the Pentagon was hit I decided I had better get my children out of their school. I walked to the elementary school pushing my baby boy in his stroller. I thought I saw glimpses of smoke. I stood in line for what seemed like forever to sign my two older boys out of their classrooms. I wasn't the only parent with the bright idea of keeping their loved ones close for the rest of the day. A fellow mother-in-line turned to me and asked how I was doing. Tears welled up for both of us and she answered her own question with the response of "I know, you're just as bad off as I am aren't you?"

The tricky part of that day, and the upcoming days that followed, was knowing how to react in front of children. What to say or not say. My kids were 7, 4, and 1. My 4 year old was especially quick to pick things, not easily distracted. I wonder now how this event shaped them into the people they are today. Could this be one of the reasons my oldest loves the comforts of home so much? Possibly the reason that my middle son is so into weaponry? Who can say...

In Feb 2003 they were starting to deploy soldiers. I was recovering from the delivery of my first daughter in a military hospital. I had to get a shot before they would release me. I sat in my wheelchair next to a very young man who would be one of the fist ones out to Afghanistan. He was getting a whole slew of shots himself. That really rattled me to think someone so young could be gone for good in another month. I tried to keep things light by asking for his opinions on a name for my first daughter. He helped us cast the deciding vote. I hope he is still alive and voting today....

May we never forget the sacrifices made for our country and remember our troops/ local service men and women on 911.

Back to School 2011

2011-08-29T22:58:00.000+09:00

Ah the first day of school. I am in that window of time when my two high-schoolers have been gone for an hour, my middle schooler just started his walk up the street to start his day and I have about 10 min of down time before I need to wake a sleepy 3rd grader. Then it will be 'just-you-and-me-time-baby' for me and Little Girl. We use that you-and-me phrase a lot. It will probably be exciting for her for about 15 minutes and then she will be bored. Because I do boring stuff like laundry and picking up the house. Perhaps we can work some fun in there today, play-dough if she's lucky. She will be lonely until the kids get home I am sure.

So to re-cap on what has been going on, we just escaped death two times this past week. First there was Tuesday's earthquake then the hurricane. The earthquake was the largest quake for this area for something like 100 years. That is how we roll. When we lived in Iowa we experienced the worst flooding in over 500 years. Then in Korea there was all kinds of havoc being flung upon us by the North Koreans with their 'test' missiles. It would seem that where ever we live there are catastrophes afoot- yet we manage to come through okay. How about that Irene? As wide as Europe- are you kidding me? I tell ya, we must be living right because all we experienced from Irene was a couple hours without power. From 2:00 to 4:00 in the morning. Big Girl immediately blamed her sister for turning out the hall light and the bickering woke the parents up. T commented on my amazing patience with her. I have a tendency to be... well... extra cranky when you wake me up unnecessarily. I have been known to bite off a few heads and hardly remember it come morning time. I think I was feeling sorry for Big Girl. She has exhibited some symptoms of anxiety lately and I have had to sit the boys down and give them the 'what-for' about teasing and pushing her to her limits. That girl carries the world on her shoulders. And if you've seen her then you know her shoulders are pretty small. I'm not quite sure what to do for her, or if there is anything I can do. This may just be her lot in life.

Our end-of-summer vacation plans changed at the last minute due to the storms, but we enjoyed ourselves anyways. We went inland to a water park resort town called Massanutten VA. We also went to Charlottesville VA to Thomas Jefferson's estate Monticello. T and I had gone there for an anniversary some 9 yrs ago as a couple. We found out it's much different when you take a family of 5 kids with you, especially when you take the 3:00pm estate tour right when your youngest girl is ready for a nap and not ready for a tour of our 3rd president's home. Even though she said quite loudly in front of the tour guide "I want to go home" we made do. We noted that Thomas Jefferson and Little Boy have a lot in common. Both red heads, both played violin, both have April birthdays, both very high achieving smarty-pants types. My son even chose TJ as his famous American character to represent in school 4 yrs ago... We ate at a great BBQ place with the stickiest floor ever. We rented movies, we played in the jacuzzi tub, we floated down the lazy river at the water park, we had bad fajitas at Chilis, we bought a generator, we drove through a lot of rain and made it home before the hurricane. Then it looked as if a hurricane hit the inside of my house for a couple days. Now it is the calm after the storm as all the kids are at their first day of school. No I don't miss them yet. As Little Boy left this morning for his 10 min walk to middle school I called out to him "remember who you are" and his reply was "yes- I am Thomas Jefferson." Let's just hope he stays away from girls named Sally H. He's only 14.

Misc. Letters

2011-08-26T23:19:00.001+09:00

Dear 'I Can't Believe it's Not Butter' I beg to differ. I totally believe you are not butter. I believe it with all my taste buds. When my husband is sent to shop for groceries he always buys you claiming that you spread better. I see his point but would like to say that I think taste should rate higher than spread ability. The fact that you take so long to melt into my toast makes me suspicious of you. I would rather die of heart disease (sudden, over) from butter, than from cancer (long, slow) due to whatever plastic-type ingredients that are in imitation butter spread. So thanks, but no thanks on the ICBINB.

Dear Hurricane Irene, you have spoiled our end of summer vacation plans. I am okay with our alternate plans and just hope to see my house standing (and not standing in a puddle of water) when I get back. Thank goodness we recently paid the outstanding 10.00 somehow left unpaid on our flood insurance. Earthquakes, hurricanes, what's next? Maybe I shouldn't be asking this. Please pray for my dog who we did not bring with us.

Dear Parents, thank you for thoughtfully calling me within minutes after the 5.9 earthquake hit our area. That was nice to hear from someone. We were just fine hanging out for 45 seconds under our dining room table. Our funny neighbors confused earthquake with tornado and ran to their basement. What I didn't appreciate was the crack made about Mother Nature not liking our president and trying to strike back. I would have thought if anyone needed a spanking by Mother Nature it would have been members of congress or possibly the Tea Party wackos. I guess we are all entitled to our own opinions- just keep them to yourself.

Dear Family Members, please stop fighting with each other on our vacation. You are giving me a headache.

Dear Big Boy, I hope you can get your non-fiction first-person summer reading assignment finished and your essay written before school starts on Monday. Procrastination is a bummer in the end. I speak from experience.

Dear Readers, I am sorry for not blogging so much lately. Not sure if you care really but in addition to not blogging I also have not been reading or commenting and we all like it when we get comments... so sorry. I am probably not deserving of your kind comments, but leave them anyways if your so inclined. If not- I totally get it!

Sincerely,

Kelly

The 5-7-5 On Us

2011-08-18T16:27:00.000+09:00

Please see Emily's blog where I got this idea. She is brilliant.

Little Girl is cute

Though her self-chopped hair has grown

to a length that's sad...

Big Girl is stressed

or is it just boredom that

makes her pluck her brows?

(help!)

Little Boy likes girls

But can't seem to talk to them.

He choses to wave.

Middle Boy threw up

three times on the track Monday

at his first practice.

Big Boy eats food-stuffs

all day and all night it seems,

I guess he'll still grow.

I am awake (sigh!)

thinking thoughts that upset me

like starting to run.

(tomorrow)

T is the 1st prize

in a game I call 'My Life.'

So glad I found him.

That was fun.... now do try this at home.

Love Loss and Success...

2011-08-16T04:27:00.001+09:00

Today in the grocery store as I stood in the check out line my eyes did what they always tend to do... they scanned all the scandalous headlines on the smutty magazine covers. Hypocritically, I wouldn't be caught dead with one of these magazines in my home, but I feel quite up to date on who is divorcing or cheating or sporting a new baby bump after my weekly wait in the line at Giant Foods. Today one caught my eye with a typical headline about an interview within the magazine's pages from the smokey eyed actress from Glee, Dianna Agron. The actress who plays Quinn Fabray talks about love, loss and success or so it says on the cover right above 'what my va jay jay is dying to tell me.' So Cosmopolitan.

I don't mean to seem condescending here. I don't know everything about love loss and success but I am willing to bet that after 42 years of living my life (and nearly 20 years married) I bet I know more about these subjects than little miss Dianna. So I had to do a bit of an eye-roll at this headline. Now that I sit down to blog I ask myself what do I know? And why isn't cosmopolitan knocking down my door to ask me? Probably because I am not on a popular trend setting sit-com. I am just a housewife with 5 kids and a busy husband. But here is what I have learned so far about L L and S. (that's Love Loss and Success...)

LOVE: Love is never having to say you're sorry. Love is about forgiveness as well. Love is commitment. Love is sharing the last piece of peanut butter pie. Love is going through a deployment and not only staying faithful but growing closer. Love is about putting yourself 2nd. Love is about setting a budget, and trying to stick to it, but sometimes not. Love is seeing the best in your partner and trying to be better because of them. Love is accepting someone even after the baby bump doesn't ever completely disappear.

LOSS: I have learned the most in my life because of what I have lost. You never know how much you have unless you lose sometimes. The big thing you learn from loss is from what happens after you fall. Do you get back up? Do you give up? Who do you blame? All important things yes?

SUCCESS: What do I know about success? Not much. As my husband's grandparents used to say... "when we were married we had nothing, and we still got it!" I guess it all depends on what someone means by success. Material success? Success with your family? Successful baking? Fame? I'm still working on all these things. With the exception of fame. Who wants to be famous? I'll settle for a famous blog with nearly 40 followers. Maybe I should consider getting a Dianne Agron "Shab". It's the hottest haircut this summer so 'they' say.

Summer Wind Down

2011-08-11T23:23:00.000+09:00

We have just 18 days left of Summer at this typing. We are at the point in our Summer where I look back and think, did we do everything we wanted to? Or did we just watch too much television and play that silly new video game too much? I had the entire family doing good deeds and weeding bad weeds to collectively earn a new Wii game called animal crossing. They are collectively all addicted to playing this game and all good deeds and weeding time have gone straight out the window. They are completely focused on catching and selling fish to the local store, writing one another mail, shaking trees to see what will come out (hey Little Boy got a used massage chair that way!), and digging holes to find or bury stuff. I am happy that they are not shooting anything in this game, but I am not happy about having to regulate how long they play each day. It makes us all cranky. So what I decided this week was that we were going to get out there and enjoy some stuff. I would pick a child or two to take on an outing each day of the week. Monday I took Middle and Little Boy to the Newseum. It was awesome! I have been there twice and loved it both times. At first Middle Boy was wishing his best friend would have been able to come and seemed a bit down, but he perked right up at all the sights to see there. The next day I took Big Boy to the air and space museum to see the IMAX movie about the Hubble telescope. It was so inspiring I have vowed to take the rest of the family to see it asap. We have plans next week to see the sculpture museum or perhaps the portrait gallery with Big Girl and the zoo with Little Girl. At some point I will get to the laundry. Then we have a beach trip scheduled and it's back to school. I hope I won't miss them too much. My youngest starts pre-school this year leaving me all alone 3 days a week. That ought to be different for me.

Looking back on my summer I would have to say that the highlight was having my parents drive out for a visit. I was pretty worried about an 82 yr old man driving his motor home cross country but he managed to do okay. I still haven't pinned him down to tell me the story of accidentally driving into a ditch but I will. While he was here with his new wife I managed to get them down to see the Vietnam Memorial where Thelma's first husband's name is. They were only married for 2 years when he lost his life. She was pregnant with their second daughter at the time. I asked her afterwards if the memories were too sad and she told me all the sweet memories outweighed the bad ones. That answer is classic Thelma. Here are some photos of that day.

I was so honored to be able to make this happen for them. My Dad drives well, but walking around in the extreme heat he doesn't enjoy. Parking in DC with a motor home ain't easy, so I drove them there early on a Sunday morning. I think I impressed him with my slick city parallel parking skills. We walked slow and took breaks. When we finally got there and the guide looked up where Thelma's 1st husband's name would be, clucked his tongue and said we'd have a hard time reaching his name for a rubbing. It was indeed too high for us to reach. Thelma declared that if she could just touch it that it would be enough. So I gave her a boost and she reached for his name. A nice couple from the South (with heavy accents) helped out and boosted her even better. Then the woman said in her southern drawl. "Let my husband help y'all out with that rubbin' he's got some tall on 'im" So we handed him our paper and he went to town. He left the R off of ROBERT. He tried again. Sadly I brought the wrong thing for a rubbing. Note to self: graphite not pastel. We thanked the Southern couple and they left. Thelma was telling me it was just fine that it didn't turn out when suddenly the tour guide showed up with his fanny pack full of paper and graphite to save the day for us. He was super tall and I told him as he rubbed that he was the perfect height for this job. He gave me a great one liner about putting his 'tall legs on' when he got dressed that morning. I wondered how many times he used that line and admired him all the more for it. It was a great summer memory.

The Welcome Mat

2011-08-06T07:27:00.000+09:00

For the past 22 years my father was married to a woman who, for the most part was good to us, but sadly due to her insecurities could never fully embrace us kids as hers. Oh I know she tried. She was handy with a needle and thread and she'd whip out a cross stitched bookmark for your child's baptism in nothing flat. She'd also give you a framed cross stitch work of art with your child's birthday and birth weight when you had a new baby. I always felt a bit awkward accepting these treasures she'd created because to me it seemed a bit like her proof that she was being good to us hanging there on the nursery wall, but the actions she showed didn't quite match up. She had a wicked tongue and never held back criticism. Sad but true.

My Step mother passed away last summer and about 6 months later my Dad re-married. The good news is that this time he married a real gem. I have been hearing stories of her settling into the house and making changes that to me, represent her spreading out the welcome mat. When I recently visited I was able to see for myself. She turned one of the downstairs bedrooms into a 'teenager hangout' with good books and movies to watch (almost all VHS... awesome!) there is a desk with paper and markers to do artwork. She pointed out some career choice books to my 17yr old who is thinking about his future a lot lately. So nice. The best part of the room is a large white fur rug that she will suggest you take your shoes and socks off and walk on. So plush! And so not something JoAnn would have done. Thelma is just fun. I was touched as she showed me where she re-hung our family photos back on the walls. They were taken down after my mother passed and placed in a dark corner of the house on the floor to collect dust.

We went out for Chinese food with my parents and here is just another example of her desire to please. Big Boy wanted to order the soup. He also had a hankering for some orange chicken, so he asked me to order it so he could taste some from my plate. I was still full from our pizza lunch at The Pie in Salt Lake earlier so I told him I would be ordering light. I ordered a side dish. When Thelma caught on to the situation (late in the ordering) she jumped out of her seat and rushed back to the kitchen to change her order to orange chicken so that my son could get some. My Dad protested but she insisted. It was a good thing too, because he hated his soup. I was super touched.

Yes- I'd say the welcome mat is officially out.

The Frosting

2011-07-27T04:12:00.003+09:00

Well I'm home from Utah. My oldest son and I took a 4 day trip to my home state to check out colleges for him. He would like to attend BYU but if he can't get in (it's very competitive) then he will look elsewhere. The other two colleges we toured were University of Utah and also Utah State University. They each had their own flavor and it was funny to see how we felt after each tour. They are pretty sly about putting the most outgoing attractive students to head up their tours. U of U had more ethnically diverse guides who were edgy and cool. BYU's tour guide was a typical clean cut returned missionary with a sense of humor and a way of working in a spiritual thought with every other stop. But I think they pulled out all the stops with the cute peppy blond tour guide at Utah State. Yes she was married (at 22), but she seemed to be the whisper of promise about the kind of girl Big Boy would like to date at Utah State. Pretty sneaky USU.

We also attended a wedding for my sister. It's a third marriage for her and it was very simple and sweet. It was held in the church's cultural hall. The ceremony was nice. Before the ceremony she had a close friend give a short speech which begs to be blogged about.... Perhaps I shouldn't, but I just cannot resist. Here goes. Her friend told us all that this analogy had come to her the night before. She told us that marriage was like a cake. That there were many ingredients in a cake that make it good. Then she went down the list of cake ingredients and made comparisons. The eggs, for instance are the two living things in a cake and so the two eggs represented the bride and groom. The vanilla and salt represented the spice in a cake and thus the spice in your marriage which, she said, meant the dating that needed to continue even after the wedding day. The baking soda represented the ingredient that makes everything rise and so it was compared to prayer and scripture study which you should do as a married couple. (I thought that one was good). I must have zoned out during the flour part but it represented something I can't remember. I was wide awake however when she mentioned the last ingredient, the frosting on your cake. The best sweetest part of marriage. The frosting was compared to the intimacy in your marriage. She went on to explain that the frosting doesn't always turn out right the first time you try and frost the cake.... but with practice you can frost your cake with perfection. Even my perfect brother Eric was snickering along with me on that line. You know, it was really sound advice but the setting was perhaps not the best for such a speech.

And the jokes about frosting just kept coming all evening long. They served cake after the wedding, and my 17 yr old son said that he probably ought to take a piece that didn't have too much frosting since he wasn't married yet. I told him I wanted a corner piece. We went over by some relatives and commented on how good the frosting was. That someone must have really practiced a lot before decorating that cake. So smooth... so white... okay I have gone too far, I realize this. I need help! But even my 82 yr old father said rather loudly after they kissed as man and wife "They need to practice that." Perhaps the apple doesn't fall far from the tree....

Utah Bound

2011-07-22T02:22:00.003+09:00

I think it is safe to say that my children need me. It has taken us the last 4 hours to pack for our trip to Utah. Just for me and Big Boy! He had to wash shirts to bring (told him to do it yesterday), couldn't find his wallet (under a towel in the bathroom). I had to re-pack all his pants (he took them out looking for his wallet). While he was putting away (per-mom's-request) the violin that had been left out for a second damaging this month I asked "what will you do when you are away from home and don't have me telling you what to do all the time?" His response was that he guessed he'd have to suddenly grow up and move on. As if he could... What a sec, maybe he could but he doesn't because I am always here reminding him to do stuff. It's an interesting thought to ponder anyways.

This time when we go to Utah I am going to have to view the mountains with a different perspective. Our family just signed on the dotted line to stay in the military. This means we won't be moving back to Utah any time soon. I have always been okay with that. Although it would be nice to be closer to family, the longer we have been away, the more we like our independence. That may sound harsh, but we enjoy the diversity here, we like the schools, we don't have to be so involved in family dramas, and we vote however we want to. Our kids are strong in the church even though they are in the minority. Or is it because they are in the minority- who knows. Whatever the case I have come to believe that it's not where you live but how you live that matters the most.

I used to dislike it when Easterners would come to BYU for college in my home town of Provo and dislike everything about it. No one hates that kind of critical talk more than the locals. Now I find myself seeing the little weird things that only I seem to notice. I am sure my family dislikes it when I point these Utahisms out to them. I will try and hold my tongue this time. Utah is a great place. It's THE place I hear. I love many many things about it. But I guess I have changed so much since I lived there that I don't really fit in there anymore. Not blonde, do recycle, make green salad and hate Jello, not outraged at Obama.

I always love books or movies that show change (hope and change even more-ha!) in a character. Now I've turned (somewhat) into one of those East coast people who I disliked once upon a time. Talk about weird! Now all I want is love and acceptance from my family members who just don't get me now. Or at least less ribbing from them. I wonder how they will take the news of us signing on for more military time. Probably not well. I will have to borrow Big Boy's line about finally growing up and moving on. Nope, That's not insulting at all : )

Do They Need Me?

2011-07-19T22:03:00.001+09:00

I have had so many things run through my head that I want to blog about, but alas I've had no time to do it. Yesterday I spent over 6 hours in the car. I drove my 14 yr old and his buddy to EFY in Virginia, had lunch with them and then drove home. I listened to an entire book on tape (Al Capone does my shirts- I recommend it!), chewed a whole pack of gum (yes my jaw is sore today), worried about the kids left at home without me, nearly got into an accident and then worried all the more for the rest of the drive home. What would my family do if I died in a car crash? Strangely T had the same thoughts at work yesterday. "What if she were in a fatal car accident?" Thank goodness I made it home safe but cranky. I don't really like driving that much in one day by myself. I certainly hope Middle Boy has a lot of spiritual experiences at EFY to make it all worth it. Buena Vista is the town he is in. It is a pretty small town. Dropping them off at their dorm room where they will be spending an entire week brought back a lot of memories of when my parents dropped me in a similar dorm in a similar small Colorado town many years ago. Then they took me to lunch just as I did with my son. Middle Boy wondered aloud about his potential room mates. He is with his friend but there are also two more boys in his room with him. I was glad to have a chance to speak to him last night and find out that they were nice.

Upon returning I expected to find that the house had been turned upside down. I thought probably nothing much happened outside of video games and movies, but that wasn't the case. I have been hearing tales of sprinklers and squirt gun fights in the back yard, painting, dog walking, swim team practice, & dishes done (sorta). Maybe they don't need a mom as much as I thought...

Ah yes, there is fighting going on in the next room. I believe I am needed after all : )

*ps to this post... Middle Boy has been home for 4 days and reports that he LOVED EFY. When I asked what he loved the most he said that he loved meeting new people, the testimony meeting and the medley they sang as a group.... I was stunned and asked my husband later on the phone where the real Middle Boy was. "medley singing" isn't a usual favorite of his...

Milano Memories

2011-07-15T11:11:00.003+09:00

Today I had my new-driver-son drive me to the library. He needs driving hours and since our local library is being renovated it's a good 20 minutes out to the next closest one. I thought it was a pretty easy straight shot that wouldn't stress him (or me) out too much. I thought wrong. I could see my life pass before my eyes at least 3 different times. Since I have no filter I utter every worried thought that comes into my head. His confidence must suffer when he drives with me. I cherish the stop lights during our drives. It's when I let my knuckles relax from the death grip I have on the armrest. I was literally kissing our driveway when we got home for good this afternoon.

When we arrived at the library I let out a huge sigh. Half way there, I thought. On the way in we got a look at a new baby in nothing but his diaper kicking back in his infant car seat. His eyes were bothered by the afternoon sun and his mother didn't bother to turn him around. "Cute baby" I told her admiring all the rolls of fat and remembering the same rolls I used to squeeze on my babies. On the way out we saw some vending machines. I felt the need for some chocolate to make it through the drive home. Twix was my drug of choice. Big Boy chose milano cookies. I told him I thought I knew why he liked those so much and his reply was "is it because I am your son?" ha ha. So. dang. funny. "No actually it's because when you were about that baby's age I used them on you more than once to calm you in the car." It's true. Even though I knew the rules about introducing solid foods to babies of a certain age, in moments of desperation I succumbed and gave a 2 month old cookies. I had read the baby books. But my new parent ears could not really stand the sound of my son's cries in the car. I had bought a case of sucrose water from the pharmacy before we left Utah and moved to the Bay Area. That is what the nurses in the infant nursery at the hospital used, who was I to question their techniques? He loved the stuff and it was quite soother for stress in the car. When the case of sugar water ran out, I asked my pediatrician where I could get more and he thought I was nuts and told me I didn't need that at all. Don't you just love being criticized by a pediatrician? Yeah, me too. So I smartly went with milanos and didn't mention it to the doctor at his next visit. I weighed the two evils and went with possible food allergies and a quiet car. It was (ironically) my newness to driving in a crowded area with actual traffic on El Camino that stressed me to the point of such bad parenting. But as I held the cookie in his mouth while driving, I watched him gum down his biscuit cookie smearing a messy chocolate center all over his happy face, calming down beautifully. I probably told him how good it was. That Pepperidge Farms really knows what they are doing.

We are now in the process of searching for a college for Big Boy to attend. He has taken the ACT and met with his counselor at school. We are headed west for some college visits at the end of the month. This is the big time! It has been interesting to see him spread his wings a bit. Taking on his eagle project and playing the boss for a Saturday morning of trail clearing. I am not sure how ready I am for this next step. Perhaps I will need a bag of mint milano cookies to sooth me while I think it over.

Family Motto

2011-07-08T02:08:00.000+09:00

Our Family has a motto. Sometimes we forget our motto. Sometimes we forget that we even have a motto. When evening rolls around and we are all together my husband will sometimes ask our crew "what is our family's motto?" Silence is the usual response. The family motto was my husband's idea and I can sometimes see his frustration that none of us can remember this motto. He reminds us what it is and a couple weeks later he asks what it is again, crickets chirp while we all search the empty spaces in our heads trying to recall the motto for our loving Father. One time a scout-aged son of mine replied "Do Your Best!" but alas that is the boy scout motto not our family motto. What's the motto with us anyways? (sorry, I can't resist a pun-op). This week we were saying that our second motto should be the Lion King's motto joke "What's the Motto With You?" Then this morning I thought of something for our family's third motto. As I went to spread butter on my waffle I looked at the sad sad state of our butter dish. There was messy spreading of butter everywhere from last nights corn on the cob, crumbs were throughout. "When I get some butter" I bragged, "I always try and shape the butter back into a cube taking away crumbs as I see them" I believe in leaving the butter better than when I found it. Sorta like the 'leave no trace' scout motto. Our third motto ought to be "Leave the Butter Better." It has a nice ring to it don't you think?

I think I have new motivation to remember our family motto this week. Big Girl has encountered a neighborhood bully. Let me describe him to you. He often has a mohawk and rides around the block on his bike at high speed without helmet or shoes. He's often the kid in class who can't sit still. I've worked with him in school, and he struggles. We have always treated him and his sisters (who are lovely) with kindness. Sometimes he makes my eyebrows raise and I think to myself "where is your mother!" as he rides on his stomach face first down the hill on a skateboard in the middle of the street. I have sensed a bit of a crush on his part toward Big Girl and perhaps this is the reason for his new teasing at the pool. Both he and a friend have been asking her repeatedly why she is swimming with the younger pre-team swimmers instead of being on the swim team. It's starting to bug her. So the other day I went up to him (he totally knows me so I felt more comfortable doing this) and asked why he kept asking her age if he already knew it. He hasn't bugged her since. T happened to be present when I jumped up out of my seat to remedy the situation. He has a much cooler head than I. He told me I needed to let these things go. I argued that if you don't put a bully in his place it will only escalate. And I also reminded him of our family's motto "All For One & One For ALL!" I told Big Girl that the next time Mr Mohawk says anything to her she should remind him of her three older brothers and of the motto in our family. But first I better remind the brothers what the motto is.

PS We also have a family SONG! Everyone remembers the song.

Thoughts on Independence

2011-07-04T11:30:00.000+09:00

Vive la Indepenace

Tomorrow is the 4th of July. A day when we as Americans celebrate how great we are. We rejoice in our independence. I am 100% behind being proud of our American heritage but as I have aged I see some things a bit differently. Sometimes our free thinking, we-know-it-all attitude limits our ability to embrace or even see other cultures. Does anyone else find it funny (or is it just me) that every alien invasion movie has the USA as the prime invasion location? If I were an alien thinking about visiting earth. I would probably not start with Ohio. I'd hit Paris France first. Maybe that's not very patriotic. I apologize if I offend.

When we lived overseas I had my eyes opened wider as to the way other cultures lived. There was a blind obedience to the rules in Asia that sometimes left me wondering if they were born without any will to think for themselves. Here's an example for you. One day my family went to a local amusement park on a rainy day. The park was unbelievably empty. We counted ourselves lucky to be away from the crowd in a city of 14 million even if we were a bit soggy. My kids kept wanting to ride the merry-go-round. They were the only ones in sight and yet each time as the ride ended we were escorted out and around and through the chained line-designation space, through the turnstile and back onto the ride. I tried through my often used charades method of conversation, to persuade the worker just to let them stay on their horses instead of getting off and on again one minute later. She would not be convinced. She had been told the rules and she was there to strictly follow them, line or no line. I found this idea so weird. Why couldn't she see the silliness of this? As we drove home the thought came to me that perhaps in a country that has been oppressed by government for so long, free thinking isn't their way. And yet there is room for admiration in that kind of blind obedience. Too much free thinking makes for bad case scenarios in many ways as well. In the USA we have far more crime, corruption, and people basically making poor choices causing chaos. In Seoul Korea there were no guns, no crime, and no one would ever think of doing something to lose face and shame their family or their country's name. We could do with some of that kind of pride (or is it fear of what others may think) over here. American's were somewhat looked down upon by the Koreans was the impression I got. We were fat and lazy. We smelled like cheese. We didn't know how to properly recycle. The US soldiers drank too much and were always getting into trouble. We had no clue how to respect our elders. We were easy to take advantage of. Sloppy dressers who let our homes become cluttered. We did not push our children enough to do well academically, and were always overexposing ourselves to the elements. Silly Americans!

So tonight as I hear the illegal bottle rockets going off in my neighborhood putting us all at risk for a brush fire I am thinking of the hardworking obedient people of Seoul. The ones who would never be so free spirited as to think of doing such a thing. But who also probably could not have produced the likes of Thomas Edison, Betsy Ross, or Joseph Smith for that matter. Happy Independence Day! Let's all cherish our freedoms and treat them with the respect (and boundaries) they deserve.

The Boys are Back (from scout camp)

2011-07-03T21:54:00.000+09:00

Here are the signs....

Courtesy of Big Boy

Remember the poem 'If you sprinkle while you tinkle, be a sweetie-wipe the seatie' I need one of those framed in my bathroom. Also this toilet had been left un-flushed. Normal...

Someone did the leather work merit badge I see...

Someone presented me with this awesome heart shaped rock... at 1:00 in the morning

And that someone is seen here.

What's been going on...

2011-06-29T03:32:00.002+09:00

You would never know that it is summer and that it is supposed to be relaxing around here. We have had one event after another. After Wicked we took our two teen-aged boys to U2 in Baltimore. They were the cheapest last minute tickets I could find and they were at the very tippy top row of the football stadium. I felt like I'd had a week's work-out by the time we reached the top. The one nice thing about being there was the breeze and the view. We could see a beautiful sunset over the Baltimore skyline. Bono, however looked like an ant. Thank goodness for the large screen under the alien spider apparatus. That thing was a show in an of itself! I repeated something I used to say to my oldest boy when he was 9 and we were going through the tunnels of the ride 'it's a small world' "It's a feast for the eyes!" I shouted over the music. I think I saw a smirk of remembrance come over him. I am sure glad we had the chance to do this with our boys. Even if they don't appreciate U2 the way a 1987 graduate would, they still had fun.

Moving on with our events, next came youth conference with our church. My oldest two boys spent two days (and 12 hrs of driving?!) in Kirtland Ohio. Even though it was a long long way to go for just a short period of time they had a great time and especially loved the bus ride. I think it must have been a tour bus because it had a rest room and TV where they watched several movies. They were not allowed any cell phones or Ipods or anything like that. My Middle Boy didn't like that idea too much. But somehow he survived. Upon returning from the conference Middle Boy did an uncharacteristic thing and stayed up talking to his parents about his experiences for like 2 hours. It could have been all the candy they gave out on the bus giving him a sugar buzz, but I think it was just that he had some really great experiences that he wanted to talk about. I was tired but there was no way I was going to bed until he was good and ready. Those teenaged moments are few and far between. I was only slightly surprised that I got the exact opposite reaction from his older brother the next day. One word answers, didn't want to talk. Typical for a teen I guess.

After youth conference, we had one day of rest on Sunday and the following Monday we had to have them ready for a 6:00 am departure for scout camp. Scout camp times 3 boys this year. That's 3 times as many pre-requisites to get done. That's 3 times as many batteries and flashlights that need to be rummaged around to find. 3 times the pain, but 3 times the silence while they are away my friends. I am 3 times as worried about them too though. There was a news story on the radio about a scout who was lost from his troop last week who ended up drowned. Not the kind of thing a mother wants to hear just before sending off her brood. I will keep praying for them and hoping they will have good sense and good watchful leaders, cuz I am kinda attached to these kiddos.

The busy continued will a vacation bible school the girls both did last week.... that is a post for another day in and of itself. Let's just say I was new to the VBS experience and I am still wondering what just happened. Now we have pre-team swim for Big Girl and Little Girl will probably start swimming lessons of her own next week. She also wants to continue taking dance classes. We'll see if I can push myself to drive one more place during the week. It will be so nice when Big Boy gets his driver's license. We just got home from the library and I am ready for a break.

So...... How is your summer so far?

PS In other great news I ate the first tomato from our garden!!!! Yeah summer!

Wicked

2011-06-24T07:50:00.001+09:00

We took Big Girl to the Kennedy Center to see Wicked Saturday afternoon. It was amazing! Please see it if you ever have the chance. Elphaba's character was played by the same actress who we saw in NY a couple years back. She has not lost her ability to give you goosebumps. The memory of her high notes are still fresh enough in my brain now that I can get chills just thinking about her singing. She (Dee Roscioli) is that good. I was so thrilled to be able to share this with my daughter. We had been listening at home and talking about the story. Seeing it the second time for me was just as great as the first. I noticed more political undertones than before. It's a really interesting story on many levels actually.

We made the horrific mistake of taking the Metro. I had taken the subway when Little Boy and I scored free orchestra tickets last month and it couldn't have gone more smoothly. That had been on a week day. On a Saturday afternoon we expected no problems. However that was not the case. As soon as we hit the first platform we were in a crowd who had been waiting for 30 minutes for a train to arrive. We heard that there is a new budget cutting policy about running fewer trains on weekends. So that combined with a Nationals baseball game was a wicked combination! We were packed in there like crowded sardines. We also almost didn't make it on time to the show, which made the friend who we were meeting up with rather nervous since we had her tickets. She smartly drove from Virgina and was there an hour early.

Things really got worse though on the ride home. I thought our train was crowded before but the one on the way home was even more crowded. And we had the misfortune to be squished in next to a most unpleasant passenger. He was a rather large man who was seated. When I got within a couple feet of his air space he told me I was "close enough!" I shifted my body so as not to be giving him a view of my backside and asked him if that was any better. He rudely told me "no!" I guess he didn't like my hip either. I didn't know why he was complaining, at least he had a seat. I told him that was the best I could do. My neighbor was a friendly type who made a comment about not everyone being as patient as they should be on the subway that day. This probably had him fuming because a few stops later when my husband accidentally stepped on his outstretched foot he loudly expressed himself with a "You stepped on my F____ing foot!" Troy politely replied "sorry buddy" but I was not letting him off that easily. I called him out on his foul mouth and pointed out that I had my 8 yr old with me. He told me he didn't care and said it was my husband's fault for stepping on his foot. I should have thought of the obvious here and said that one thing was not intentional while the other was but instead I said "well I am sorry that happened now was he going to say sorry for his mouth?" Guess what? He wasn't. So I just said we were going to try and get as far away from him as possible, he said "GOOD!" At this point some nice teenagers gave up their seats for us (right behind him). There was lots of "sheesh" ing from me on the way to our newly scored seats at which point my husband mentioned that I simmer down. Big Girl was a bit shaken. She had dreams that night of the man coming to find us in our beds and harm us. Perhaps that was because he issued a threat to me "keep it up lady and I will come back there and cause a scene!" "Oh I am just shaking in my black sandals here!" I replied not wanting to be bullied. More 'simmer downs' from T. I don't know why he got me so riled. I just really really hate it when people are foul-mouthed in front of my kids. There is just no reason for being that stupid in my opinion.

So for the next 10 stops or so behind this large foul man I wondered as did the munchkins,"are people naturally wicked or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?" I whispered in Big Girl's ear that I felt sorry for that man because surely he can't be very happy. She may have gotten my message but instead she shushed me for fear that he would hear and become an insane angry man again. That is when I began to regret ever saying anything at all to him. Surely I didn't change his behavior and possibly only made it worse. I guess it's as they say in the musical 'no good deed goes unpunished.'

Mercy vs Justice

2011-06-13T20:52:00.001+09:00

This morning I was going to allow myself to sleep in. Big Girl was sick yesterday so I am keeping her home from school just to be sure she is okay. I am in a pretty happy stage with the boys who get themselves up and off to school without needing anything from me. Sometimes I wonder if I should be up with them baking muffins and squeezing them good-bye after gently applying sunscreen. Then after wondering that, I go back to sleep.

Sleep did not come easy last night due to an intense movie I watched that I probably shouldn't have. So my overactive imagination kicked in and I dreamt about cutting off my arm to save my life while stuck in a canyon all night long. I really needed to sleep in. Instead I got a phone call on my cell phone at 6:25 am. I jumped out of bed and ran to the spot where it is usually kept. The ringing was coming from the right place but it wasn't there! BTW I am the kind of person who is always calling her cell to find it's location. Last time it was the pool bag. This time I was in too much of a sleepy daze to notice it had been placed in the cubby hole below it's usual spot. Whoever put it there must have been drunk. Or overwhelmed with making meatball sandwiches for dinner on a fast Sunday or something.

The caller tried a second time on our land line. This could only mean one thing -he/she was someone who knows me and my cell phone habits. Someone like Middle Boy with a request at this early hour. I turned to answer the land line and found the phone had not been hung up. ARGH thought I! Why is it so impossible for people to put things where they go around here?! It was too early for this (as seen by my hypocritical thoughts). I found another extension and answered the call from my son who was about to get on his bus. He needed me to find a review sheet worth a lot of points that was due at 10:30 am. For some strange reason he placed it on his desk and then emptied all the contents of a semester's worth of paperwork from all of his classes from his back pack burying the review sheet where it could barely be remembered, let alone found by a mother who still had sleep in her eyes and a sore right arm caused by weird sleeping positions. Still I will be getting it there before his 10:30 am class.

Whenever this kind of thing happens (and it isn't often -so that is key I think), I am reminded of a friend I knew once who was so strict with her kids about being forgetful. She had a 3 yr old son who forgot his pizza party money for a pre-school party and when the teacher paid for his portion that was NOT okay with my friend. She had her son doing hard labor at home to earn the money to repay the teacher. She read some book by the Eyres about teaching responsibility to young children. My friend insisted that kids will rise to whatever level we expect of them. She felt she was teaching her young son to rise up and be responsible but to me it looked like she was showing him how merciless his mother could be. If your pre-schooler forgets something I'm thinking that one should be on you.

It was just last fall when Middle boy (who forgot his Spanish review sheet), left his lacrosse gear unattended and it got moved to a secure location by another coach. For a weekend we thought it had been stolen. I was so mad at him for not heeding my last words while dropping him off at school to "not leave that equipment in an unlocked location." I could see that he felt pretty bad about it. I was trying to decide how to handle this. If he needed new gear who would be paying? I consulted my magic 8 ball: Facebook. After much back and forth with people suggesting hard labor at home for 4 months I got this response from the one guy that kept saying I should show mercy..."Here's the deal: We all learn justice by receiving it. We only learn mercy by extending it (we kind of learn by seeing others extend or having it extended to us). In this instance you're kinda forced to choose between your son learning justice, or you learning mercy. As a general rule, simple existence in the world will teach justice; but the chances to extend mercy can become scarce. As a parent, I'm not worried about how well I teach justice; that will get taught on multiple fronts. But if I fail to teach mercy (by demonstrating it); well I don't even want to contemplate that." While I can see the logic on both sides, this argument stuck me as more true. IF my son did this kind of thing all the time it would be different. But for now I am leaning towards mercy. Because like my friend also said earlier "we are all beggars." I lose my cell phone regularly. He can misplace a Spanish review sheet now and then.

Stay Cool

2011-06-11T07:30:00.002+09:00

We are in the middle of a long heat wave. To be honest heat like this that lasts more than one afternoon is too long for me. It's true what they say you know. It's not just the heat it's the humidity. You would be wise to look not only at the temperature but the humidity index before leaving your house. I am concerned about what July will bring if this is what June has to offer.

Today as I rushed my cold milk and hamburger meat to the car from the grocery store a nice teen-aged bag boy said to me "be sure and stay cool!" I told him to do the same and on my drive home I thought about that saying 'stay cool.' Remember in high school when kids would sprawl that everywhere in your yearbook at the end of the year. "Stay cool, and have a good summer" or the other good one was "stay cute and cool" Like we were planning over the next 3 months to get ugly and lame. As if someone who is truly cool can just turn their coolness off like that. Are there nerd classes over the summer that I was unaware of? And who in their right mind would enroll?

When I was a teenager I was convinced that my parents could teach that class. They were so not cool. They were old. Super old! My mother had no fashion sense and my Dad was loud and overly confident. Now when I see old photos of them during that time period I think my Mom had the good sense to dress more classically (she ignored the fads thankfully), and my Dad's confidence was the essence of cool actually. However at the time I vowed that when I had kids that I would strive to be a cool parent. I would be Samantha from Bewitched. I would be the Kool Aide mom that everyone wanted hosting the back yard sprinkler party. I'd keep up with the styles and take my girls for pedicures.

Now that I have 5 kids and I am in my forties I have to say that being cool is totally overrated. My 17yr old tells me how uncool I am all the time. He berated me the other day for parting his hair on the side all through elementary school. He claims he was too nice to let me know what I nerdy move that was. Now he is not holding back and he lets me know how un-cool a side part is. He refers to it as "church style" Who knew I could have such bad taste because of parting hair!? I try telling my son that his baggy bottomed pants that hang too low are not cool but he has no confidence in my opinions. He's no gangsta, but if he weren't wearing a shirt we'd all be seeing more that we care to. Lets just put it that way. I would love to find a way to restore his confidence in my sense of fashion, but I am afraid that time has passed. Or perhaps parted, if you will. Maybe I should have listened to all those classmates who wrote in my yearbook telling me to stay cool. Between you and me, I've also struggled with staying cute. In my defense the humidity really messes with my hair.

*update... Big Boy combed his hair this morning Julius Ceasar style. All combed forward. It's especially ironic since my mother used to do this to me when I was 4, and as a teen I looked at those photos and hated that style! Very peculiar. indeed.

Sick Ramble

2011-06-08T20:35:00.000+09:00

Starting this post with nowhere in mind to go. Yesterday was hard. I had a sick child and that is always hard. Then I started to worry about her because she threw up so many times and had not peed all day. She had been acting lethargic. Thankfully she turned a corner around 4:00. I had been running the boys to their music lessons and had left Middle Boy in charge of the sickling. I also went to the grocery store thinking about how this could turn bad in a hurry and I loaded up on gatorade and sugar cookies to coax eating out of her. When I arrived at home and found her on the toilet peeing I couldn't have been more pleased. Then a fever started a couple hours later and my worry returned. This morning she has eaten half a bowl of cereal so I am happy again.

Parenthood is so hard sometimes. Worry, relief, anger, stress, guilt. They are all a part of this job on a daily basis for me. Then by the end of the day I am spent and so is my patience. That's when things really get hard. But I wake up the next day and the birds are singing and there's a gentle spring breeze coming through the window. The checkbook just balanced and my boy who was so upset with me last night is out the door with smilles and 'I love yous' and I think I just might be able to go on. Perhaps the library today. Perhaps more strawberry picking before the heat gets too high. Maybe the pool after school. The possibilities of being a good Mom are endless. And so (sigh) are the possibilities that I will mess up again and again. Maybe I need to sit down and make a list of my blessings. That always helps...

1-I am healthy
2-My husband loves me
3-God loves me
4-I have great kids
5-We have enough money
6-I can sing
7-I love where we live
8-Summer vacation is almost here
9-We will go to the beach
10-We can afford to have the area rug cleaned where Little Girl barfed up red strawberries

That's all for now.... I need to get someone up for school.

Hope your day is a good one!
Kelly

A Pet Peeve of Mine.....Don't Hand Me Your Stuff

2011-06-07T21:32:00.000+09:00

Some of you may know that I come from a family of Dentists. A long line of them actually. As a Dentist's child we got zero candy in my house. Captain Crunch never graced our breakfast table, and our Halloween stash was sold to our Dad for a nickel a piece. We also had the unique opportunity to work in his office starting at a very tender age. We would start at around 12 yrs or so emptying trash or filing charts. We'd move up to answering the phones and confirming appointments. Sometimes we just got paid to sit around and read People Magazine. The salary wasn't much so I didn't feel too bad.

By the time I was old enough to assist my Father in dental procedures I was about 17 yrs old. It was then that his impatient nature really stood out. If you didn't have the right instrument waiting for him on time, his hand would make a grabbing motion as if to say "why isn't my hand full right now?!" He didn't like waiting even half a second to have that explorer or plugger or drill placed in his anxious hands. Efficiency was key with him. Every thing is a race to my Dad. Driving home for lunch was no different. Choose the fastest lane and 'get ahead at every chance' was his motto. Snap your fingers 3 times at the red light to make it turn green. He was a terrible tail-gate driver. We once got in an accident (surprise!) on the way home and then every day following that fender bender, when we would pass that same spot, my Dad would say "I remember when" referring to our accident. My teenage self would roll my eyes but my 43 yr old self now smiles at the memory.

So you may think that I am going to say that his chair-side impatience drove me crazy, but that is not what I started to write about. Although, yes that was bothersome at times, I understood that need for speed. I actually love to be efficient if possible just like my Father. Something that is part of my make up perhaps inherited from dear old Dad. The thing that irritates me to all ends of the earth is people handing me stuff. This always reminds me of those assisting days. When someone comes up to me and hands me something I get irritable. Like, what am I? Their own personal assistant? My Dad used to do this with his wife a lot (it bugged her too) and I assumed he did it because he was accustomed to having an assistant in the dental office taking things out of his hands. I notice this habit crosses over to children and their mothers as well. Something as easily taken care of by the children will often end up in Mom's hands simply because she is there. Because she is the lady of perpetual servitude. Because when you shove something in someone's mid-section the instinct is to grab whatever is there kicks in, and kids will take advantage of that.

Most recently I was annoyed at this by my son at church. It was at the end of stake conference and Big Boy had played his violin with the youth choir. He had disappeared to go and get his violin case and music binder that had been put in classroom somewhere. When he came back we were sitting on a nearly empty bench waiting. Instead of placing his binder on the bench (we were still in waiting mode for my husband...), he handed it to me. I looked at him in a way that stated "are you serious?" as I placed it on the bench for him... one inch away from our transfer spot. My look went right over his head as he then plopped the case in my lap. I know, Moms are here to take care of things for their children but whatever happened to every kettle resting on it's own bottom?! And how, HOW for heaven's sake can I teach this to my children? Do I schedule an alone round-trip overseas flight for them somewhere? Do I empty a box of cereal in the center of the floor and leave for a week myself? Those seem like extreme ideas but these are extreme conditions right?

Or perhaps a better solution would be to decide to write about this pet peeve in the morning while my 2nd grade daughter completely gets herself ready for school. I was, just now, so engrossed in writing this post that she picked out her own clothes, poured her own cereal, and made a lunch of "snacks" for herself. Yes... I think blogging may just be the answer. However this situation has led to another pet peeve of mine (maybe I have too many) and it is this...

See the ripped Life Cereal box? It means a child opened it.... and it drives me nuts.
At least she attempted a tape repair to sooth her mother.

PE

2011-06-03T20:48:00.006+09:00

When I was a PE student, back in the dinosaur age, the grading system must have been different than it is today. You showed up, dressed for PE, participated (even participated poorly at times in my case), finished by pretending to shower with your towel wrapped around you at all times sticking your big toe in the water, rushing back out, and dressing as discretely as possible in a corner. An easy A would be granted. It's not that way any more. At least it would seem that way for my son Little Boy.

This kid of mine is a straight A student. I have never seen a kid (at least in my home) with such self motivation in school. I think it has come from a lifetime of trying to keep up with his older brothers. I have visions of him as a small boy chasing them down in the yard with his funny run. We called it the 'chicken arm' run, and he was not the first in my family to have this left-side, bent arm-popping-out, phenomenon happen to him inexplicably with random timing while running. And no, he no longer does the chicken arm run (which breaks his mother's heart), and which could possibly account for the struggle for an A in PE. I just like to recall the run for old times sake. The important part is the run to keep up with his brothers who usually left him in the dust back then.

He's just always had a drive to be like the big boys. Which actually helped him with endurance and speed. Today he can play lacrosse with Middle Boy and hang in there like a champ. He can out run both of his brothers now because he just. doesn't. quit. He's like the energizer bunny of the family. He used to play amazing T-ball and coach pitch baseball. He was the kid everyone would back up for when he would come to bat. Then he decided he hated baseball when the kids started pitching instead of the coaches. More often the kids would be hitting the batter instead of properly pitching. We endured that last season with him back in 4th grade and he never wanted to go back. Even though his team made it to the finals (and won), he decided baseball was not for him. We moved on to running which he enjoys and he doesn't have to doge baseballs.

So you can see why I would be confused by this PE teacher who is so tough on him. Last semester it was the only B he got and it irked me that his perfect GPA should be marred by a B in PE. Now I am not usually one of those parents who has to hover over a kid making sure that no imperfect grade comes home. I am usually pleased with a B. But not in PE! I started thinking "what does this guy have against my kid?" I let it go. Time passed and we ended up in the same boat this past quarter (all A's and one B in PE). This time we actually got a note from his teacher on the report card stating that Little Boy is too social in class. So it's not related to his ability in PE but that he has been getting under the coaches skin by not giving him the attention he feels he deserves. Maybe that is okay to knock down grades for talking, maybe the coach is being a jerk. I don't really know, but it seems to be coming more into focus. So I had a chat with Little Boy and told him to keep his mouth on pause during PE. He assures me he has been doing this. His grade has stayed the same, a high B.

Today I emailed the teacher... tell me what you think.

Hello
My son has a high B in your gym class. He is a straight A student and seems to only get B's in gym. He has tried to stop being social in gym since we saw your note. Is there anything he can do to tip his grade up during the final exams?

He is not usually athletically challenged. He is my 3rd boy and usually keeps up with his brothers just fine. I am a bit confused by his grades in gym.

Thanks
Kelly T

I have no idea if I will be ruffling feathers here but I figure, it's the end of the year, he will hopefully get another coach next year for PE, and even if he now grades more harshly during Little Boy's final we will still most likely have the B we started with. I just wanted to let the coach know I have my eye on him and his unfair non-A giving tendency here. I have no idea how these PE teacher's minds work. But I can make a guess.... Here's my guess, he's thinking "those Math teachers think they are so great with their interactive promethean boards after school tutorials and their make up exams. My subject is just as important for creating all around good citizens of this nation. I'll show them a thing or two about PE. This class will be so hard to get an A in. I'll show them all! I will finally get the respect I deserve around here, my new whistle I put in for hasn't even come yet. This old rusty thing I've been using could give me tetanus!"

After I sent this email this morning I asked Little Boy to ask around in class and see who is getting A's in the class. I asked him again if he had been giving the coach his attention like he should. I wanted to make sure before going to bat for him like this. Now I just have to wait to see if the ball will be aimed at me next and be ready to dodge.

What Once Was Mine

2011-06-02T21:10:00.001+09:00

An appropriate thing for her to be singing on a Sunday morning

considering this is what she did to herself about a month ago....

Oh if we could only make the clock reverse...

In Memory...

2011-05-31T02:12:00.000+09:00

Anticipation....

April 6, 2009

Happy Memorial Day!!!

End of the Year Awards

2011-05-26T23:37:00.001+09:00

It's that time of the year when everything is winding down before summer and we have the finals. The final lacrosse game, the spring concerts, field day at the elementary school, the end of the year sports banquets, the last day of French breakfast-in-class. I was ping ponging between activities yesterday thinking that we are either really blessed with rich opportunity or overbooked. One of those two.

Big Girl had her first scrimmage at the end of an "instructional" season of lacrosse. When they are at this level there are no games during the season and the coaches run around on the field with the girls shouting instructions into their ears. There's no one posted at the goal to defend should someone decide to shoot and we all cheer the loudest when someone actually catches a pass from a team mate. During most sports events, I am used to watching my kids be the hesitant players out there. If someone from my family actually scores once during an entire season we talk about it all the time and it goes down in history with boys arguing as to what really happened out there. As I watched my daughter on the field, I had to do a double take. Was that tiger out there actually my flesh and blood? She was getting in everybody's business and not taking no for an answer. I had to laugh watching her as they were positioning themselves in offense/defense poses. The whistle to start play had not yet been blown, but here was my undersized 8 yr old vying for the spot in front of her opponent. The other player would re-position herself one half step closer to center field and then pop out her hip. Big Girl would imitate her move, and so on and so forth. I found out later there was also some words about cheating from the hip popping girl. Big girl was having none of that trashy talk! I see her really going places with this sport.

She is number 22

Proud of herself

She couldn't be more pleased with the participation trophy she received, and she carried it around all evening not wanting to leave it behind in the car while we went to a concert at the middle school. So cute! Little Girl was content with her bouquet of clover picked in the grass during her sister's scrimmage.

On to the spring concert for Little Boy.... He is currently first chair, and although I missed the 'tuning up with the first chair violinist' part, it does my heart good to know it happened. It's probably best I wasn't there to be seen gloating. He was moved down from that position a while back and just regained it a couple weeks ago. It's an honorable position. One which our family has never had a chance to be in until now. They sounded wonderful and so much improved from the winter concert I could hardly believe it. I wish I had brought my video camera but I am lame and forgetful like that. The girls were very antsy and it was unbearably hot in that gym, so we headed out to the hallway where there were fans and room to roam.

Free at last!

Peek-a boo. I have my first sports trophy!

Then at the end I started to hear an awards ceremony taking place. Surely there would be some awards for my first chair violinist son, so we rushed back in there. He did receive two awards. One for being in honor's orchestra last winter

The posing girl to his right has been seen flirting with my innocent boy

He also received an award for (from what I could understand from the description) having parents willing to fork out money for private lessons. It was a bit weird when those three stood up. Still I snapped a picture. We make great sacrifice to pay for those lessons, I think it's worth a photo op.

The other embarrassing part was his un-tucked shirt... Oh well

Then his awesome orchestra teacher handed out several awards for different reasons. She'd get choked up while saying this kid never gave up or that kid was always so happy no matter what she dished out. She gave an award for the most responsible kid to leave in charge. One girl got 8 awards in total! That was one over achieving Korean girl! Every time Ms V would go on about how much she loved this or that student for this or that reason I was thinking 'oh this has to be about Little Boy' and it wouldn't be him. Later my son told me that she was giving out awards to the 8th graders who were leaving. My son is in 6th grade. That made me feel better, (why do I care so much? I tried to show indifference). I know she likes my kid a lot so in 2013 I am anticipating about 6-7 awards. I have learned that you don't try and top the Asians when it comes to violin. You will only end up depressed.

Little Boy told me that when they combined orchestras for one number with the 7-8th grade advanced students, that he sat by the award winning Korean girl. They are both first chairs in their age groups. She turned to him and said (possibly joking), "I play really loud and strong, so I might actually hurt your ears... sorry." I watched as he hung tough with her. His bowing strong, his vibrato almost there. To be honest the orchestra pieces are not that challenging for a student with private lessons. I never even hear them played at home, but you can tell by watching who's got the strong leadership bowing and who is following a half second behind. The trick is to watch the tips of the bows and see who is ahead. So like I said, he's hanging in there like a champ. When the number was over she turned to him and said "Hmm... you're actually good." That statement was worth way more than her 8 slips of paper printed out that afternoon on the school's printer. I guess we'll keep having T moonlight to pay for those lessons after all.

Looking up to his 8th grade 'friend'

The House Decline

2011-05-25T23:25:00.003+09:00

The previous owners of our current house were nothing like us. A husband and wife in their sixties who's children (2) had left the nest. They maintained a business from the house. The office is now a playroom. In fact when I google my address, it comes up as the storage facility business they owned. They were gardeners. They were crafty. They were ex-hippies. She had an entire wall of the master bedroom dedicated to clothing stored in a wardrobe they had purchased from IKEA. She had a lot of clothes!!! But before you judge her to harshly she also knew how to make a bamboo coffee table with wrought iron legs she crafted herself, and boy could she do a nice rag technique on the walls. Everyone asks me about it. I always give her credit.

When we all happened to be in the same kitchen of the home during the stage where they were almost moved out and we were still at the Holiday Inn, she voiced real concern about the birds. They had taken down the bird feeder and the birds were confused. "Please have a heart and get a new feeder up as soon as possible. The poor birds are starving! They keep coming here and wondering where the food is" She said with real worry in her voice. Then she had her husband show me where they hang it just outside the windows. We did as we were told, and we have enjoyed the bird show outside our window. However I am quite certain that I do not keep the supply of bird seed coming as steadily as Sammie did. In fact I totally stop feeding them for weeks until I can remember to get some seed at the grocery store. No I don't go to the fancy 'Naturalist' store for my seed. It's super expensive there. Once I did buy into the line about it being less full of the junk the birds let drop to the ground making it lasting longer. I bought my one bag and decided the birds were pigging out just as fast. I won't go back. I bet Sammie would have though.

Sammie would probably be upset with the amount of weeds in her yard. Especially on the South fence. The bamboo is out of control. That is one tricky weed to keep up with! I am raising children here not flower beds. Although I am always impressed with a nicely tended yard. Maybe I can train the kids to weed the yard. At least I have kept up the tomato and herb gardens.

We did some improvements to the house with new appliances and automatic garage doors. Just recently a new driveway was added. A costly new driveway that ate up our music-lesson stash. But it had to be done. Sammie and Jeff's culvert was rotting away. Anything that goes wrong we can put ownership on them right?

Even though we live very different lifestyles I totally appreciated what Jeff told us on closing day, he said "We'll leave all the good vibes behind!"

Here is the vibe that was here before we moved in...

And this is the vibe we have going on now... Keep your criticisms to yourself please.

Purple rag paint job... for M-Cat to see. Does it seem dark? We have gotten used to it.

Another rag job

The Oreo Decoy

2011-05-13T01:13:00.000+09:00

I just managed to eat 3 Oreo cookies (three is my limit- most of the time) in the same room as my youngest daughter and she hasn't caught on in the least. I am surprised because she is known to smell chocolate on your breath from the 3rd row back in the mini van. The secret today was timing. I waited until she finished her lunch and started playing with a toy car on the ground saying "are you watching this mom?" I snuck over to the cupboard and grabbed my dessert along with a tall glass of skim milk to wash them down, and acted natural. "Are you watching this Little Girl?" I thought in my head. Neither of us watching. I looked at Facebook and nibbled silently and she looked at the floor playing with her car, and we both minded our own business. As long as she doesn't get a whiff of my breath at story time before her nap we are good to go.

I used to resent my parents having special food in the house that was for the adults only. My Dad had his special block of sharp cheddar. My mother had her 100% pure Welches grape juice, while the rest of the family drank juice made from concentrate. She also loved a good chocolate stash not to be consumed by the masses in the house. Although she'd share a bite with you if you caught her in the act of eating it. She wasn't completely heartless. As a kid I thought I would never make my kids feel second class with food. But after trying to keep up with the massive amounts of food my teenaged boys eat, I can see that some foods just need to be saved for more adult palates. Mouths that actually take the time to chew.

Here's a yogurt example: My favorite flavor of yogurt is the Yoplait key lime pie flavored yogurt. Unfortunately it is everyone's favorite around here. I will buy 6, and the very next day I go to eat one and there are none to be had. I felt a bit crazy at the grocery store buying 14 of them. I just explained to the clerk that I simply have to get that many if I expect to get one myself. It's nuts! So I must have been thinking this way during my entire shopping trip on Tuesday because I found myself doubling up on everything. Two containers of yogurt covered pretzels, two packages of Oreos, two bags of corn chips. You know, the important stuff. It had been a while since my family had seen Oreos and the week before when my husband brought home a package for our mother's day dessert (ice cream with Oreos), the package was voided within an hour. Long gone before mother's day even arrived. I was touched. So this time (Tuesday) I thought I'd better get two packages.

Oreo package number one was devoured on Tuesday (all but 2) and put in the usual spot in the cupboard. The next day I found that someone had left a couple of crumbs too small for a mouse but had left the package right there in it's spot on the shelf. How considerate I thought as I threw the empty package in the trash. I went to the pantry to get the second package... the one I had predicted I would need to get if I wanted to see an Oreo long enough to eat one..... The one only I knew about come to think of it.... and a plan began to formulate in my brain. Everyone is going to think this full package of Oreos is actually the empty one and they will leave it be for a few days perhaps not knowing it's actually choc full of a boat-load of mystery Oreos. It will be my little secret. I will actually get to eat some. The package will be open in front of everyone, yet fool them all! What an evil sneaky plan full of revenge yet so absolutely deserved! My evil chocolate loving heart let out a horrible greedy laugh (inside so as to remain cool and calm in front of my one offspring who still stays at home with me during the day). I have a feeling my plan may dissolve tonight when they trash the house and see the empty Oreos in the trash. Shall I go to the extreme measure of taking out that trash before anyone sees it? Am I that desperate for Oreos? Perhaps in effort to lose some weight I will leave it there and let the fates decide what happens next.

My Mother's Day

2011-05-10T00:22:00.001+09:00

In September 2001 I started a memory book for my oldest son. He was just about to start a new school in Maryland as a second grader and I wrote how nervous he was because he had heard they taught fractions in his new school and that wasn't on the agenda at his old school in Iowa. He was excited to walk to his new school just around the corner. As a student who took his mother's van to school he had envied those walking children. He still prefers not to drive it would seem. Putting off his driver's license seems foreign to me.

I stumbled across this book this morning, while sorting. It is now the day after mother's day 2011. I hadn't written very many entries in the book. In fact the last entry was just as he was about to turn eight. I must have been busy. I decided to sit down and write something in it this morning. I needed some writing therapy. Mother's day was wonderful, but also hard. I wrote about the almost-man he is today. I left out the part where he was running around in the park with his head tucked into his shirt, trying to scare his brother. He is 17 in body but not always in spirit.

I spent a lot of time yesterday musing about his future. Another kid at church who is of age to be on his mission is still at home. He has had a great upbringing in the church but just doesn't seem ready to go yet. Will my son be ready? Dinner times are often silly. Respect for mom not always what it should be. Is there a push at the end before 19 where they mature overnight? That is what I am praying for.

And yet on Mother's day we reflect about our job as mothers and think "what happened|?' or "I could have been better." I know that as recently as Saturday I could have done better. Where does the fault lie? With the upbringing or the individual? Both? I wonder.

Mother's Day is also hard because my own mother has passed. My step mother now too. The week before mother's day I had my kids signing a card for their new step Grandmother. "Thanks for being my new Grandma, can't wait to meet you!" or "Thanks for Mothering my Dad" we wrote. Should I have called on Mother's Day too? I thought maybe I'd leave time in her day to hear from her actual offspring first. I'll call today perhaps. She is a wonderful addition to our family.

I am grateful for the mother I had for 20 years. She was a great example of patience, kindness and good child psychology. I don't believe she had any faults. It's a hard act for a mother like me to follow. I hope all the mothers out there had a great day yesterday. I was spoiled with waffles, bacon and hash browns in bed and a shiny new stainless steel trash can with a silent slow closing lid. As any mother knows... more silence is a good thing. A very good thing.

Baby Girl on during her first week home. What an awesome Mother I was...

Small Sperrys

2011-05-06T02:11:00.002+09:00

Last night I took my Middle Boy shopping for shoes. He has made the lacrosse team at school and on game days the team has to dress in a shirt and tie for school. I find it funny that the boy who absolutely hated church clothes as a kid, and the boy who still highly values his comfort, takes great pride in dressing up with his team at school. It marks him at school as one of those cool kids from the LAX team and he digs it. It makes me happy too.

So at the end of the JV games, while cheering on the varsity kids from the stands, all the boys sport their Sperry topsiders (I know right? So eighties-I had some violet colored imitation Sperrys in 10th grade) with socks and gym shorts. So my poor Middle Boy has to wear his Vans (I know again right? Mine were Hawaiian print and they were real!) and he feels all out of it because he has been forced, sadly, to wear his black lace up shoes to school instead of Sperry topsiders. As you well know, black lace up Sunday shoes with shorts and sport socks just won't do. I am all for efficiency in the locker room and for bringing fewer shoes to school. Plus I wanted to reward him for all his hard work making the team this year. He almost let his fears show him the door causing him to quit in the middle of try out week. But he didn't. So even though there is just one game left, (today) I decided to take him to the mall and look for some Sperrys. Try as we might there was just nothing in his size. He's at that awkward size between the boys and men's sizes in shoes. It did NOT help when I suggested he try the women's size shoe that looked exactly like the one he'd been looking at. How could I possibly think that would be a solution? When the clerk suggested the same thing and I said "that's what I was just telling him a moment ago." Middle Boy's mood then went from bad to worse. I may as well have said "why don't we go shopping for pink tutus after this?"

Middle Boy has always been little. He's always hated it. And as we struck out looking for his size in store after store I watched his countenance fall more and more. He got grouchy with me. It was like each time we asked if the shoes came in his size and we were told no that the clerk might have been saying in an Arnold Scharzenegger voice "You're small. You're little, why don't you go home and take a nap with your blanket and your binky you little boy?" Man how I pray that the testosterone will kick in soon with that kid. It doesn't seem to help that he older brother is towering over everyone these days. It's like salt in his tiny wounds.

Just last week he was acting glum after a game. He's had some good playing time this year but this was a game that he'd had zero playing time in. A close game where they don't put in the second string players. A game where he had plenty of time to think and look around at all the giants on his team. He isn't the smallest (but almost). So here he was at home acting blue and suddenly he went to the drawer, pulled out a pencil and handed it my husband asking to be measured. We just measured a few weeks ago so it wasn't likely that there would be change this soon. We all held our breath for the results..... He was actually 1/4 inch bigger! Suddenly his frown was turned upside down. Now we just have to get online and order him some topsiders and possibly hide the fact that they came from the women's section.

Spring Break Update

2011-05-04T23:34:00.004+09:00

It seems like the more I take blogging breaks the harder it is to come back. I truly get writer's block unless I am consistent.

We had a wonderful spring break with the kids in upstate New York and Kirtland Ohio. Despite the cold weather and the stomach flu we passed around every other day. It was great to feel the spirit in so many of the church history sites. I was a bit worried that the kids would be sick of seeing old building after old restored building and so we tried to mix in some fun stuff as well. There was very little grumbling and one teenager actually shared with me how much he liked seeing the spiritual stuff. He would not admit to it later for some reason, but I was there and I testify that he did say it! Even my four yr old had a spiritual highlight of her own when they showed her a replica of the golden plates (she even got to touch which is more than Emma Smith could boast). For days following the event, she'd tell us all that she'd seen the "real gold plates!" over and over. It was pretty sweet. Of coarse now when you ask her what her favorite part of the vacation was she will tell you "the pool at the hotel." But I think that pool experience will fade and she will recall the 'gold plates' forever. (At least that is what I am hoping).

Don't Touch?

The Falls Were Amazing

But a cold day!

Happy to be Inside!

He Loves a Photo Op

Little Boy at the Sawmill

We also got to go to an amazing museum called the Strong in Rochester NY. An incredible place to learn through play. Video hall of fame for the boys. Butterfly exhibit for the girls (and Big Boy who loved the butterflies!) If you are ever in Rochester on a snowy day in spring where your Niagra Falls day trip gets bumped, I highly recommend it!

Since returning I have been battling a cold/sinusitis making my life a bit miserable. But today is the day I am willing myself to turn the corner, meet life head on and go out and gather milk for the children. I may even buy bread. I mean to work out as well, but I always mean to do that : )

In other Family News....

Big Boy took an AP exam in phycology. He can now officially tell us all that is wrong with our parenting techniques.

Middle Boy is at the tail end of a great lacrosse season. He is proud of himself which is wonderful.

Little Boy continues to lose his violin books and has bet his teacher a dollar or a piece of candy that he will have them all at the next lesson. This comes after I verbally reminded him to get his bag of books together the night before. I asked him why he didn't do it then and he said something he picked up from Big Boy "did I answer when you said that? If not I didn't hear you- so it's your fault mom" I just may kill him before his next birthday... Speaking of birthdays. He recently had one.

Happy Twelveth

Big Girl recently earned a chain necklace with a plastic foot on it for choosing to walk for 5 miles during her recesses. It's part of something called the mileage club. Me likey! Today she was asking if it was real silver and how much it was worth...

Little Girl claims to know all there is to know about ballet after two months worth of lessons. Her Swan Lake is to die for in cuteness. She also chopped off a big clump of hair in the front of her head making it necessary to part her hair on the other side or introduce more hats and headbands...

Kelly- I am getting new dining room chairs this Friday. That is very big news for me!

T-T and I celebrated 19 yrs of marriage with expensive root beer, flowers, black jelly beans, Little Boy's birthday, Easter, and a promise that next year will be a cruise or something. I really love him!

At the Newel K Whitney Home

'The Face' says it all

Kirtland Temple

Car Games

2011-04-13T22:24:00.000+09:00

We are approaching Spring Break around here. That means we will be spending lots of family time in the car together. That also means I am trying to think of ways to keep the peace in the car. The best method is usually a movie or a good book on tape. Got any good book on tape suggestions? Send them my way please! It's hard to find something that is appealing to all the age groups in my family. Strangely, Beverly Cleary and Laura Ingalls Wilder have both been able to captivate my teen aged boys before.

No matter what videos or books I bring I know that there will be the car games that we always play during a drive. I don't know why we do it every. single. time. but even on the shortest trip to the school we play this game where-in we spot flags and call out the word "mem!" Let me explain. I guess the mem game started back in our Iowa days. So like 11 years ago. It was Memorial Day and there were flags out everywhere in celebration of our dead war heroes. Iowa has got some patriotic spirit and goes all out for this day. My kids were noticing the flags, and I was explaining why they were there. Somehow that evolved into shouting out "memorial day!" at every flag sighting. Then it shortened to "memorial!" and then "mem!" We have not yet shortened to me or mm (so far). But the game has now extended to so many things that we spot that it is verging on the ridiculous. If we see a random flag like a holiday themed flag or an advertising banner-type flag or even the small orange ones they put up for marking a construction dig, we yell out "ran!" (short for random... we like to shorten things for efficiency). If there are a lot of rans we say "rans-a-lot" and it makes me think of Camelot every time. We say "fore" for a foreign flag. If we see a really BIG mem we say M.O.M. for mother of all mems. If there is a Maryland state flag we yell out "Mare" If there is a cemetery we say "I see dead people." (self explanatory)

Now if we see something really odd, we say "odd." Examples of odd things are a garbage can in a tree or a flying mannequin witch stuck to a pole, or a cow mailbox, a tennis racket hanging in the yard, or say...a white ceramic head with matching hands peeking over a fence, (all of which are seen on our routine drives). It's the odd things that usually spur on the biggest fights in our car. Classifying "odd" seems particularly hard for my youngest boy. He confuses unique for odd. Just because there isn't another one like it doesn't make it odd. What makes it odd is the fact that your eyes pop a bit when you see it, and you have to do a double take. The other stimulus for contention is the question of who said it first. The second person can also cause friction by playing dumb and calling it for themselves (repeat this several times and it makes for a lot of fighting). There is a certain low hanging tree/bush that we call a "creepy tree" I couldn't find one online to show you but I did find this...

I can't decide if its more odd or more creepy...

My Middle Boy has the best skills for this game. He has memorized every flag within a 3 mile radius of our home and says them with the exact timing required to claim it was in view. The only time I was able to beat him was when he was doped up after dental surgery. Yet the competitive side in him still shined through and he moaned out mems from under his gauze stuffed mouth.

Yes to say our family is competitive would be like saying the tsunami in Japan was inconvenient for them. I don't really know how to stop this monster. I am thinking they get the competitive nature from me because I can't help but play along when they start, dancing victory shoulder dances in my seat. One thing I refuse to do is let them add any more items to the list. That is forbidden because my brain and eyes can't handle it anymore. A parent can only do so much for their children.

Big Heart

2011-04-11T18:39:00.000+09:00

Last night as my husband and I shared a brief moment of uninterrupted conversation before drifting off to sleep he asked me this question. "Someday when I die, what will you tell people about me?" I told him that I would tell people about his intelligence, his testimony, his work ethic, his calm demeanor and his awesome body. Then I asked the same question of him. "What will you tell people about me, should I go first in this scenario?" He told me several things but the one that stood out was that I have a big heart. I have been told that before from other sources. I wear my emotions close to the surface I'm afraid. (For good or for bad).

This week has been an emotional roller coaster. Middle Boy's piano teacher pretty much dropped us and my heart has yet to recover from that one. My best evaluation of the situation is that he just didn't feel that we were committed when he made the lacrosse team and our lesson time was compromised. Just when he was making such great strides. My poor poor heart has caused me to lose more than one night's sleep this week over that one. When I spoke to our violin teacher about the situation she told me I was compassionate. I'm not sure why it turned there. Perhaps because I was trying to give our diva piano teacher the benefit of the doubt (as mad as I was at him).

All week I have been quick to laugh and quick to cry. Something needs to be fixed here I think. How do you shut off emotions? Is there a switch somewhere?

Someone is moving out of the ward. I cry when I hear the testimonies. Someone plays a beautiful violin piece at the recital, I am moved. A friend tells me they made a last minute decision to go to Disney World over spring break and they got a super cheap deal on a last minute condo rental, and I feel a lump forming in my throat.... I am a sucker for the Magic Kingdom! It's not even PMS- I swear.

At times I am aware more keenly of this big heart being a liability. At our committee meeting the question was asked "can anyone make a flyer for us to pass out at today's Relief Society meeting?" and when no one volunteers my heart does the volunteering for me. Never mind the 5 children at home who still need whipping into Sunday ready best and the two dozen cookies that need frosting before church and the absent husband attending various meetings himself. The end result? No flyer and me feeling like an idiot. Dang that big heart of mine!

Ramble!

2011-04-06T01:40:00.000+09:00

You know when you have the urge to write. You have a brilliant idea even. But something gets in the way of you and your computer connecting? Then when you finally get to the computer, the idea is suddenly lost because you get distracted by all the 'shiny things' to look at on the Internet. That happened to me this morning. I totally had something to say and now when I try and retrieve it, I just hear crickets chirping. Oh well. If it was important enough I am sure it will hit me like a boomerang later. Probably while I'm driving to buy granola bars today.

So until my brain starts working I have some random facts from my week.....

Last night Big Boy found a piece of school paperwork from back when he was in middle school. His handwriting was so bad that he shocked himself and came to me all worried about (his words) his "first grader's" handwriting. He was visibly miffed when Big Girl snickered at his comment. He then asked why I never sat him down and explained the importance of doing well in school at that age. I was at a loss for words I'm afraid.

Middle Boy has made the JV lacrosse team. It's not for the weak of heart -that sport. His legs look like someone is beating him daily with a stick and that is because someone has been beating him daily with a stick. During last night's game he got "sandwiched" between two big guys while he had the ball. We were icing him down at dinner and I must admit it made me want to pull him out. If he hadn't worked so hard for this I just might do it too. As it is, I want to have a stern talk with some players from Bethesda Chevy Chase high school....

Little Boy- I got nothing. Is that typical middle child syndrome evidence or what?

Big Girl gave the sweetest lesson in Family Home Evening last night. It was about Joseph Smith's First Vision and she held out her pictures for us to see in a wide back and forth arch. Then there was even a little pop quiz at the end. As much as the boys wanted to roll their eyes at her they couldn't control the competitive side in them and had to shout out the answers. It just may have been the most spiritual FHE we've had in a while. Maybe it was the blackberry milkshakes. We go to Palmyra NY to visit the sacred grove in two weeks. I can't wait! Any ideas on how to keep the kids interested while visiting church history sites I will gladly take btw.

Little Girl is taking dance class and does the "tummy tango" better than any of the others (well almost). Much better than sitting in a self imposed time out with her legs up on the wall/mirror and her back to the class. That is what she had been doing for the first 3 classes. She spontaneously started singing "catch a falling star and put it in your pocket save it for a rainy day" on our way to a friend's house today. It was raining outside. I changed up the words a bit and sang "catch a falling (Little Girl's name)____ put her in your pocket, save her for a rainy day." She was highly offended! I guess that does seem a bit abusive. I meant no harm really.

Well I am off to buy 3 ring binders for scout projects. Wish me luck!

Kelly

PG 13

2011-03-31T00:52:00.000+09:00

A slightly scandalous conversation I had with my 4 yr old this morning. So glad we exposed her to the wonderful world of Loony Tunes by the way. It's so much better than the Disney Channel crap they could be watching : )

Bringing out the Crazy

2011-03-23T22:41:00.001+09:00

Today was Crazy Hair Day at the elementary school. Basically you come to school with a dollar for charity and some crazy hair. It's somebody's crazy hair-brained idea to make a buck.... (HA! I kill me). We opted for a multiple braids with ribbons braided into the hair for more craziness! I wasn't completely happy with the bad parting I had started off with on the left side of her head so, in the morning my mild OCD hinted to me that it must be corrected. With all that wave from being braided overnight I just had to do something with it and so we put two frizzy pony tails into the mix. It was pretty darn crazy I tell ya. By the time we put together a crazyish outfit for Big Girl she was doing her hip-pop pose in the full-length mirror and I noticed her little sister getting a bit crazy with jealousy. Suddenly her outfit wasn't nearly good enough and her own hair was "ugly!" She pouted and whined all through breakfast and eventually got sent to her room so we could give our ears a rest.

This reminded me of a time when one of my sisters had a bit of the green-eyed monster with me. We were probably 9 and 16 at the time (me being older). We were on vacation in Idaho at the time for a family reunion. As we both got ready to go out to a play (Into the Woods- don't ask my why I remember this...), M looked at me with a sigh and said "No matter how hard I try, I never look as cute as you do!" and she meant it fiercely. I didn't know if I should have been insulted or thankful for the compliment. It was weird. And she had nothing to worry about since she was adorable. By the time she was sixteen she was batting of boys with sticks while at that age I was hugging the walls at stag dances waiting for anyone to notice me.

It must have been a good hair day that night in Idaho. But it struck me at the time and made me realize something about women. We are always sizing each other up in comparison to ourselves. Even for my Little Girl today watching her big sister look crazy/cute in her plaid pleated skirt denim jacket and grey chucks. Why (at 4!) does she get mad instead of just be happy that her sister looked cute? Where is the bouquet of flowers and tiara at the end of this day? It's not a competition! What am I doing wrong with my girls that makes them equate looking good as being better? How do I combat this?

Sometimes I think the better a person looks, the more society places them into a certain category of 'not that smart' or 'nothing on the inside.' And that's not fair either. I worry that some of these types may not rise to the occasions in life because they have already being labeled as 'just something to look at.' So I say bring on the acne some day for Big Girl so she can develop on the inside. But then bring on the clearasil because it just doesn't look good and we can't have that right? : )

It's after school... Little Girl seems to know how to hold on to her anger

Ode to Rhino

2011-03-21T09:30:00.000+09:00

Rhino was our dwarf hamster. He was greyish, somewhat bitey, and he was Middle Boy's birthday gift. He was with us for just 6 short months. Like Forest Gump, he. Liked. Running. and he would run and run in his wheel not even stopping to pee. His wheel often had caked on pee promoting 'better traction.' At least that is what our animal expert MP told us we should think of it as. I never quite got used to that idea. I would often tell Middle Boy to please clean that disgusting urine stain out of the wheel before we all threw up from looking at it. He usually would obey in a timely matter, but it wouldn't be long before the mustard colored coating would appear again, creating stinky traction for Rhino and a gag reflex for all of us.

Rhino would join T in late night exercise. T on his stationary bike in the hobby room, and Rhino in his well-used wheel of pee stains. We liked watching Rhino stuff food into his cheeks for long periods of time only to expel them later and hide them in his wooden shelter. He was a true believer in food storage. A good example to us all. His toys included a hamster ball to roll around in, two shelters, and of course, the pee-wheel. Sometimes we'd have to move the wheel into the center of the cage at night so that Big Boy (who has an adjacent room), could sleep better. The noise could get loud if it was too close to the side of his cage. We were just contemplating a ramped up cool-looking cage for Rhino when he up and bit the dust. He had no cool tubes to run through or crow's nest to hide out in, just a boring glass aquarium. It made my son sensitive I think. He had hamster cage envy. Middle Boy and I had discussed shopping online for something better because the local pet store had limited options and the employees had opinions about dwarf hamsters sliding through the slots of the metal cages that didn't sit well with my son, (or me for a whole other set of reasons).

Rhino's passing was a surprise to us all since he had been running in his wheel just hours before he fell ill. In fact I think that wheel may have taken part in his demise. He seemed possessed by that wheel! Here it was 4:30 in the afternoon on a Friday and when he should have been resting up, he was awake partying in his wheel. Hamsters are nocturnal so 4:30 was way past his bedtime. Or way too early for him to be up depending on how you look at it. Still- he couldn't resist the temptation of the wheel. He probably forgot to hydrate well after his run in the wheel. Maybe he got low blood sugar due to not eating enough. He had food in his cage, but perhaps he didn't think to eat due to his wheel obsession. Don't laugh, my sister is a almost a vet and that was her suggestion, low blood sugar.

We took my almost-vet sister's advise, and we placed the cold, hardly moving Rhino on a hot water bottle. We forced fluids and encouraged ingestion of Karo syrup. We got out our heat lamp and placed it over him. We felt bad about the bright light in his eyes so sweet Big Girl came down with a paper party umbrella (in yellow as she thought he'd like that color best.... I didn't understand her yellow suggestion now but perhaps she meant it as a reminder of his yellow-stained wheel. She really is my most thoughtful child). After breaking off the sharp end (for safety!) we placed the party decoration over his eyes. We were all shocked when he actually started breathing better and moving around a bit more. I had thought once he started to turn cold that it was time to start singing "circle of life" from Lion King. But now we had some hope! I found it sweet how our family pulled together during this stressful time for Middle Boy. My oldest texted a friend to request a prayer and got out his violin and played something soothing for our pet. He placed a piece of food nearby in case Rhino was too tired to search for it and he even thought to move the water dispenser within an inch of the rodent. Perhaps Big Boy is a close contender for most thoughtful child (MTC). Alas, when Middle Boy got up with his alarm at 2:00am for another force feeding of Karo syrup, he found only the remains remained. He was buried on a Sunday without ceremony in the backyard while I napped. Maybe I should have been more thoughtful. I hope this post will help reflect my true feelings. Here are my feelings... He was a beloved pet to my son and the joy he brought will be missed, but death is a part of life and I am grateful for the lesson that his death brought. But I won't miss seeing the poo he peppered his cage with or the yellow wheel. And I won't be rushing right out for another hamster anytime too soon. Word to the wise: Pets defecate and someone has to clean it up. Maybe I will just tell the kids that the memory of Rhino is just too fresh and I can't really move on to get a new hamster. How long will that last I wonder? On the other hand, just look at that face!

Not Rhino, but a very close likeness

Keeping Tabs

2011-03-19T05:36:00.000+09:00

I don't know if you other bloggers do this, but sometimes I find the most enjoyment in reading my own posts from the past. I hate to admit this because I know it sounds narcissistic, and as my title implies, I hate bragging. I think the reason for this is because I like to keep tabs on myself and my family and note how much we've grown. I also feel a kinship to these posts that I edited with care. I sorta take pride in them. I don't just blog to chronicle what we did that day, taking photos of every event for the audience. I blog to vent my thoughts and feelings about a topic. If I don't have much to say, you won't hear from me for a while. At least this is what I think this blog has evolved into... I have even stated this with pride on occasion. Just the other day during a church meeting when someone referred to blogging as 'a journal for the world to see' I spoke up and said "that's not how I blog." But now I feel my opinion on the subject changing. As I took a gander at my writing from the fall of 2008, when I was writing to record our daily events for my deployed husband, and I changed my mind. By the way I love it when this happens- change. I love it when a character in a book goes through a transformation and someone I loathed I suddenly understand more. The more my opinions about things change the more I realize that I am growing. That is what we are here on earth to do right? Change! Grow! So I found my opinion on my ever important opinions changing because as I read my posts the ones I found the most interest in, were the ones that involved my children and what they were doing that day. What I had thought was the boring stuff! Probably it would be boring to the general public but not to me.

Now I ask my writing-self. What do I want to write? Who is my audience anyways? Do I still care about followers? There was a time when I really did and I was out there commenting a lot more than I do today. Why? Because I wanted a return visit. Now I find myself not having enough time or interest. It's change people! And I just told you how I love change. So maybe there is change in the future for "We Don't Mean to Brag' Maybe it's going to be a internet journal after all... nah! I think there will probably be opinions as well. But in an attempt to write about what really matters to me, I am going to write an update on what's going on with my kids. I will probably do it monthly. For those who don't know me personally these will probably be boring but reading back for us, they will be a treat. The reason I want to do this is because if I don't keep tabs on us who will? Nothing is more important than my family. And like my opinions- they are changing.

So here I go.... Keeping tabs on us:

Big Boy- This guy is really really growing people. I can't keep enough food in the fridge for him. He loves cheese. The other day for an after school snack he was having Baby Bell, Laughing Cow and I think some colby jack. I looked at the table and told him I didn't think he was including enough dairy in his diet. I then put a container of grapes in front of him to see if he'd take the hint. He also has a habit of not caring where all these cheese wrappers end up. I will walk into his room and find 3-4 string cheese wrappers scattered on the dresser bed and floor. You'd think he had no garbage can in his room, but he does! I swear! Speaking of his room, we have a new deal this week. He found something he wanted to order online and it was only $4.00. It would probably surprise you to find out what it was... He wants the sheet music to the song 'the Devil Went Down to Georgia' so he can learn it and try out for a musical at school called Rock 'n Roll Revival which is a huge deal in this area. I told him he could buy it if he kept his room clean for a week. We are on day three and so far he's managed to keep it up. So much for him telling me he has no time in the morning to make his bed anymore : ) And for that song to make it in the musical he would need an electric violin. Those are not $4.00 unfortunately.

Middle Boy- This kid has really made me proud this week. He faced his fears -and that is something for him. He has wanted to try out for the lacrosse team at his high school for the entire year. He only has one instructional two week summer camp and one spring season of playing behind him. Most of the kids his age have played for several years already and it is intimidating to say the least. Not to mention that everyone is about a foot taller than he is. We can't wait for growth spurting to happen with this kid. The week of tryouts he met several speed bumps along the way. Forgetting to meet with the team on the first day, being behind turning in paperwork, losing expensive lacrosse gear for a day, and finally after playing with the team for one day having a melt-down at the thought of ever going back. Thank goodness for the tender mercies of his coach who let him back for a second try after missing an early morning scrimmage. At the end of the week he has made the JV team and he is actually not the worst! He's getting in shape and progressing (especially mentally/emotionally). Now we have kinks to work out with his piano teacher who isn't being as flexible as we had hoped, but oh well. It's all working out though, and we are proud of Middle Boy! There is a young married man in our ward who is a lacrosse pro who has agreed to invite E over to show him a few moves. Totally an answer to our prayers!

Little Boy- He continues to impress me. I think it's due to having two older brothers. All his life he has been chugging along trying to keep up with the older kids and it has turned him into a motivated hard worker. He has really enjoyed being a part of his middle school orchestra this year. His teacher is one tough cookie and they have a bantering-type relationship with one another that he likes to share with me. That's another odd thing about this kid. He actually comes home and shares stuff with me. He tells me about a girl he has a crush on (we call her curly girly after her email address-and her hair). It's so refreshing! He's nearly a straight A student and it's pretty funny the classes he won't get an A in to me. Like gym or orchestra where he is the first chair violinist. His 'group performances' are the things that are giving him the B. I don't quite see how that is fair and maybe I am living in a dream world here and he isn't as good as all that, but for the amount I am paying in private violin lessons, I'm thinking he deserves an A!

Big Girl- She is super sweet and sometimes not. Just now I overheard her looking for her sister's Zhu Zhu pet so the two of them could have a 'pet playdate' when they couldn't find it Big Girl suggested a prayer. She melts my heart that one. Wouldn't you know it, within five minutes they have found it under a seat cushion downstairs. The pesky noisemaker was stuffed there so that they could hear themselves think. Yes the Zhu Zhu is right up there on my list of not favorite toys right along with Heelys. And no, I didn't stuff it there. Poor Big Girl has had some 2nd grade drama at school. A three-some of friends is never fun. She was insightful enough to make this analogy the other day. She said "I feel like I am in a tug of war with Z and J is the rope" I suggested she not play this game and just 'let go of the rope.' The next day Little Girl told me that Big Girl was "breaking up with her friend today".....I asked what on earth she meant and she reminded me about 'letting go of her rope.' I couldn't believe she was following all of that!

Little Girl- Her new nick name these days is "Kissy Face." Not only does she have the most kissable cheeks but she is a love bug herself. I am sad for every other parent who doesn't have a girl like her in their lives. Wow, do I sound braggy! Maybe it's just because she is my last that I am smothering her with my love. She starts pre-school next year and I think it may kill me. Or maybe I will just feel all kinds of freedom and be okay with it. She started a little dance class this month and her first class she did great! That was the trial class and the teacher gave out candy. Smart teacher. Once I paid the month's tuition the candy has disappeared and so has Little Girls good attitude. I am just glad I didn't go out and buy multiple leotards yet. We own two from her sister's days in gymnastics. Kissy Face's previous nick names should probably be recorded for history. Her alias names are also 'Biggy One' and 'Strawberry One.' With names like that in your repertoire how can one go wrong in life?

Us in 2008

Stages

2011-03-15T00:36:00.001+09:00

I once had a childhood friend who was a bit of a stinker sometimes. She was a year ahead of me in school but only a few months older in age. She never let me forget who was the boss though. We lived just a few houses from each other making us friends of convenience. She had a weird habit of warning me at the beginning of each school year about how hard the grade I was going into would be ("speaking from experience"). She'd have me shaking in my new school shoes every year only to find out that it wasn't nearly as bad as I had been told. Soon I began to feel that Sara was just a bit of a baby. She had to make me feel bad in order to make herself feel good. By the time we hit middle school we parted ways. In high school we barely said hello.

I sometimes think of this relationship though when I see how people deal with one another. And I have had this on my mind as I sit down to write today.

The other day a friend of mine (who is in a different stage of life than I am), gave me and some other friends some flowers. She said the reason for the unbloomed daffodils that she was handing out with her freezer meal that month, was that she admired all of us in the group so much. She claimed that when she looked at us and our smooth lives and how we are managing that she thinks of bright possibilities blooming in her future as a mother. She is in a difficult stage with several (is it 4 or 5?) small kids of very young ages. She is struggling and she sees things as easier for us on the 'other side.' When she left for home, three of us sat and visited for a few moments before packing up ourselves. The subject of troubles with our children came up as it often does and I commented that perhaps it was a good thing that our flower-giving friend wasn't there to hear how it really is with all of us. It was a thing I said in jest, but really- it's true. Every stage has it's challenges and what my stressed-out friend doesn't realize yet is that you only exchange one set of troubles for the next ones. I sometimes wish that I could go back to potty training and sleepless nights and give back the emotional turmoil of raising teenagers. But you can't really burst her bubble and let her know this yet. It would only be like rubbing salt in her wounds. Like my friend Sara telling me how much worse 3rd grade was because of all the multiplication tables. Yes the tables turn (pun intended) and you turn in wiping bottoms for yelling and disrespect. But at least with one you get a built in babysitter so you can escape the madness.

I find I am often guilty of the very same thing my friend from freezer meals is guilty of. I think "I can't wait until I am in a different stage because this one is killing me." Then it's not too long before an older wiser person reminds me that this is the best and happiest stage of life and that I should just enjoy it. I think they must be losing their memories and I go on thinking the same things. But the other day I had my eyes opened. An empty-nester friend from my ward accidentally called me. She had hit the wrong button on her cell phone and started talking to me about some problems she was having with her son. It was totally awkward when she realized she wasn't talking to the person she thought she was. Her son is in his thirties. After I hung up I had the thought that those problems she was having are ones I could possibly be going through in 15 years. The problems don't stop once they leave the house do they? They are always our children. The big thing that hit me was that life is messy. At all stages. And just like I would trade someone's little kid problems for my teen aged ones. I would trade the problems of a 32 yr old struggling with keeping his family together for a sassy teen. Pretty depressing. So what is my take away message? I guess it's to be grateful for the stage you are in because it only gets worse. Still depressing. How about to try and gain the wisdom it takes to get through those serious problems of the future. Maybe that is why the Lord doesn't give us kids going through the big stuff until we are mature enough to handle it. I hope I can keep up with everything coming my way. I hope I can be more thankful for the problems I don't have yet and enjoy my current stage. I am going to try and buckle seat belt for what's possibly coming.

*PS: Almost as if it were a symbol of my life lesson, my flowers were killed by my 11 yr old son when he accidentally put them in the freezer with the rest of my food. They were not blooming yet and he didn't recognize what they were. He is too young to know any better .....just like my friend.... and me.

The Competition

2011-03-09T03:23:00.004+09:00

Recently I saw the movie The Social Network. My favorite scene is the opening one where Mark and his girlfriend break up in the bar. He's talking about what he needs to do to be noticed and she advises him to just try and be the best person he can be. The dialogue in that scene is outstanding. I watched it twice. I loved the line,"dating you is like dating a stair master."

This hit a nerve with me because we live in an area where it seems people are breeding children to be very successful robots with no flaws. The number of 'my child is an honor student' bumper stickers on the back of people's minivans is obnoxious. Even though I now (finally) have a son who can bring these stickers home I refuse to put them anywhere on my vehicle. They go on the fridge. I just think is smacks of "my kid is better than yours" and it isn't sensitive. Maybe I am the sensitive one. So sorry if I offend those of you with stickers on your vans...

The competition out there is not just in academics or music. Parents start their kids in sports as soon as they can walk it seems and they don't accept failure. The yelling from the sidelines is enough to make one want to call social services sometimes. Okay, I know not everyone is like this and I may exaggerate a bit, but there seems to be a lot of pressure to win in Montgomery County. Those parents with only 1 or 2 kids seem to have an unfair advantage over me, with fewer places to drive and fewer children to prod along. It would seem we are doomed for last place in many things. I am okay with that... really. I just want my kids to be well rounded and happy with themselves. But they feel the pressure too, and sometimes it gets to be too much for them. My mother's heart then gets a bit on the defensive and I feel like lashing out at this crazy system where we are taught that if you're not the best you should start digging a hole to hide your head in. I had to hold my feelings back when a jockish teenager in my Sunday school class seemed to be poking fun at any boy who would play the violin. I needed to remember he is just a teen, and probably tainted by the competitive environment we are raising our children in.

I am not against competition or achieving at your highest level. I think it's even somewhat healthy and is what drives us to achieve. I just think there is a balance there that some overlook. And there is never room for putting others down for what they choose or for not being the best. My friend was telling me about an article she read recently about how Chinese parents are the best because they push their kids to achieve. I informed my friend (not Chinese btw) that she should know that teenage suicide rates are much higher amongst Asian teenagers. When we lived in Korea we saw the poor kids who would have no play-time at all due to studying. Many of them, from a very young age, stay up past 10:00 pm every night studying. During the biggest exam week of the year when high school students take their big entrance to college exams, no one is allowed to honk their horns while driving through the streets. I found that pretty funny.

So it was no surprise to me when I took my two violinist sons to the music festival this weekend that it seemed about 80% of all the musician children there were Asian. Some of them played so beautifully I was moved to tears. I thought they we wouldn't stand a chance because sometimes I let my kids play video games and watch TV. So you can imagine how proud I was when Little Boy's group tied for 2nd place in his division and Big Boy's group placed 1st! I overheard Big Boy telling one of his leaders at church "We let the hammer DOWN on those other groups with our Mozart Quintet in C Major YO!"

Yeah, he's not competitive at all.... : )

This is actually Little Boy's group playing a quartet by Telemann
Big Boy's piece is over 10 minutes and won't seem to download.

Eating My Words

2011-03-01T12:49:00.001+09:00

Well wouldn't you know it, just as I was getting cocky, thinking I was making great strides in the parenting department, the weekend had to go and happen. Turns out I am much more patient when they are away at school for 8 hours. Saturday I tried to plan something that would get us out of the house and also motivate them to do some chores. We went to see the movie Gnomeo and Juliet. I had heard that it was surprisingly clever. I wish I had not heard that because I'm afraid I raised the bar a bit too high. It was worth it to see my 4 yr old laughing her head of next to me though. I just love seeing their personalities blossom. She has quite a sense of humor that one. Big Boy and I had a harder day. He was especially cranky and wanted to argue over everything. I kept my cool but it was not easy. Later on the way home from the movies he turned on me hard after I mentioned his taking all the hot water for his shower again today. It must have been bad timing for me to mention such a thing because this is what he said to me "Did you know that there hasn't been a moment this entire day where I wasn't seething with anger towards you?!" I had to smile underneath the shock of it. Dramatics always make me a bit silly inside. "Really?" I replied. "Should I be afraid for my life?" Being dramatic in return may have not been the wisest choice and a bit of a seed-planter as well. "Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind" was his quick reply. I wish I could have eaten those words prompting his death threat, or just have been quiet after that. Why can't I? I know one shouldn't take their teenagers words personally. It's just the hormones talking right? But what is hard for me is this... Where do you draw the line between letting things run off your back and ignoring the insult, or saying 'that's enough, you just crossed a line buddy- you cannot do that' I went with the 'that's enough' parenting this time. Will he learn from my punishments not to threaten his mother's life (even in jest)? I hope so. But more than likely he will just think I am mean.

Family night tonight was both great and awful. There was charades (great!) and then there was a cheating accusation (awful). There was poster decorating for T's return and at one point someone said "our family is really cool" (great!) Then one of the boys shouted "shut-up!" and that was awful. The worst of it was that he was telling me to shut up. He spent the rest of the night in his room and couldn't be coaxed out even with two girl scout cookies. But to be fair, they were the trefoils. The dog ate them off the floor. The most I could get out of him was that he was over-reacting to me because of something I had done earlier to make him feel/look stupid. I can't for the life of me think of what that could have been. And he fell asleep before we could talk it all out. Maybe that is what he needed was sleep. Frankly, it's what I need too. My nights sleep was awful last night. T will be home tomorrow so HOORAY! We will all be more sane with him around I think/hope.

On the bright side we got our tax returns and I am secretly spending it (in my head) on furniture. We need something to help out with limited space in our kitchen and I am thinking possibly an island from IKEA. While I was at it, I looked into a secretary desk from Ebay to put the lap top on in our kitchen/dining area. I am tired of using the kitchen table for my lap top and moving it around for meal times all the time. But we are limited on space in here. Do you like this one or this one better? I am torn myself. Probably we will end up with neither. Do you think I can convince my spouse that these options are cheaper than a kitchen remodel thus making him happily skip on over to IKEA and buy me that island? He hates the idea of cheap furniture from IKEA. Maybe the walnut antique Ebay desk will balance things out. Maybe not. Because when I started talking furniture to T on the phone earlier today he quickly told me he was falling asleep. Maybe I should do the same when he starts talking about buying a new road bike....

A Rambler

2011-02-25T12:19:00.003+09:00

Sometimes I just feel like writing but I don't know where it's going to go. This is one of those times. I am going solo as a parent this week as T is in Spokane doing a week of night shift work. It's his first time moonlighting, and it's strange how even though I do miss him, I feel much better about his being away this time than I do for a conference or... a deployment, say, because when he gets back he'll be bringing home a big slab of bacon with him. I think of the reason he is gone, and I am just grateful that we have this opportunity for our family. Doctors in the military don't get paid as much as MDs on the outside you know, and braces x3 + music lessons x4 (+ a recent last minute trip to Utah) really add up. Looks like I made up my own math equation there. 3x+4x+700.00= locum tenens for T.

He is working in a 24 hr stroke clinic and he tells me working nights reminds him of residency and brings back all sorts of bad memories of having to make decisions without any sleep. Hopefully he will be doing better and have his internal clock turned around asap. Speaking of sleep, that's one thing I don't do well when T is gone. This reminds me of 2008 when I had 6 months of bad sleeping due to his deployment (and my neurotic behavior). I can't seem to find the right time to turn in. Even the dog can feel something is off and she barks in the middle of the night at strange stuff like the wind blowing or the hamster running in his wheel at night.

Something funny about this moonlighting job that I just have to mention is this: at dinner tonight we were talking about the job that T is doing and how his second night went much better than the first and Little Boy spoke up and asked what kind of job his Dad was doing. When I told him, his response had us all laughing because he actually thought that T was in Washington state flipping burgers in a hamburger joint. That boy is so funny. He has a touch of the ADD, and sometimes he tunes out. When he comes back to us it is clear he wasn't following 100%. This was one of those times for sure. Yeah- we thought we'd send our Dad clear across the US to work for Five Guys even though they just built one down the street from us. He has some serious burger flipping skills that he had to school them on.

Luckily Little Boy didn't get his feathers ruffled. There was a good spirit here to tonight. I'm not sure why. Especially surprising because my Middle son and I were having a tough time just minutes before dinner that ended up with him in his room and grounded from TV for a week. I was so worried about him all though dinner (he was too mad to eat with us).

When T is here, he is usually the more emotionally stable one when dealing with the kids. I lose it more, and the week leading up to T's departure was one of our worst ones in history- so I was worried. I often tell my husband that if the tables were turned and he was the one staying at home, he might not be as patient either. However, this week has opened my eyes to something new about myself. When I am the only one at home for a week, I have to own the role of parent better. And since there is no one else to lean on, I straighten up and take it on like a more experienced parent, who isn't going to let the teens get the best of me. I either do that or you have a miserable pity party. And I have had enough of those I think. So it has been a good parenting week. I've caught myself many times re-grouping instead of losing it and it's like I am flexing a new muscle and it keeps getting stronger.

After Middle Boy (and I) cooled down a bit, I went in to talk to him, saying a quick prayer in my heart because dealing with this kid is tricky- not gonna lie. He was still upset and not letting me in. I let him know what he had done was wrong but that I still loved him. Then I re-directed him to his grade in Geometry that we have been watching. He let me know that he had a big test tomorrow (likely the reason for his stress and bad behavior- I was beginning to understand him). When it became clear that I couldn't help him with his math (too bad his Dad wasn't here), we both got down on our knees and prayed together for help. He knows the material but stresses during the tests. Then he studied some more. I offered to let him skip seminary in the morning so that he could study in the morning hours. He ultimately decided he would go tomorrow. He is s good kid. Even if he bombs his test tomorrow I hope he will remember what I said to him. "I don't remember anything about this subject, but I know someone who knows everything about this... do you think we should ask Him for help?"

I know I have been asking for His help all week. Thank goodness He has been answering me.

Clutter

2011-02-22T23:28:00.003+09:00

I have a secret. And it's not that I ate two of Sister V's brownies for breakfast this morning. It's this: Even though I (may) appear to have things together, I really don't. I am a hider of clutter. I have way to many junk drawers (probably 10). The playroom closets could probably even be deemed 'clutter closets.' I want things to look good, but open my linen closet and I will blush. It's funny because I can't stand clutter in visible places but out of sight is okay by me! I recently saw my Dad's bedroom after 6 months of him being widowed. The clutter was almost as high as your eye in some places and he was basically sleeping with his mail. It gave be the willies. It was right there in the open for his new bride to see! I was embarrassed for him. Hopefully she has taken care of that problem for him (in a nice way).

There is one person who knows this about me. I can't hide it from Brian. Brian is my super-nice pest control guy from Century Pest Control. I call him whenever the ants come back and he usually has to look under my kitchen sink and spray his poison down there. Since I don't ever have to look there much myself, I let that area go. It's filthy down there! I apologize for it, and he kindly tells me that everyone's under-sink area is like that.

Why oh why do I have the desire for clean but not the clean habits? It's a curse. Or maybe it's the fact that raising a family is a busy business, leaving me no time to de-clutter. Some day when I am an empty nester, perhaps all my secret clutter spots will magically be organized. When it gets to be too much for me, I will get around to cleaning 'inside the box', and I must admit it feels great to be organized in the hidden places as well as having the 'outward appearance' of organization. It's like finally scratching a place that has been itching me for months. I also love getting rid of things. It's like I told my Dad only yesterday, "The only thing that feels better than getting something new is getting rid of things you don't need."

I have a sister who is super organized and when I visit her home I am so impressed by her alphabetized food storage closet and the bathroom drawers with bobby-pins in their specific small cardboard box. When I can't find the nutmeg in my unorganized spice cupboard I think to myself "I bet S never has this problem" I fret at all the wasted time I spend looking for things when they aren't in the right place. Maybe it's because I have all these "helpers" around here putting things away in the wrong place. It's probably also because I don't have the time to really organize and then follow up and keep things where they go. It's faster to just put things away in the nearest junk drawer than to take the time to put it away properly. But by doing this I know I am contributing to future insanity when I can't find that item. Do you think it's something I could be cured of? Is there hope for me? I think there just might be, because the other day I snapped while getting under the kitchen sink for a trash bag. I dropped everything (even the trash bag) and used the closest wet rag I could find from the sink to wipe down the under-sink cupboard. I organized the space so beautifully even S would be proud.

I can't wait for Brian's next visit!

Too lazy to take my own junk drawer photo.... This one is off the internets.

Wide Mouth Frog (reloaded)

2011-02-18T22:50:00.001+09:00

I used to tell this joke when I was a child. Nothing like history repeating itself. This video was taken on her 4th birthday. We think she has a future in stand up comedy if she will just enunciate more.

17!?

2011-02-08T08:54:00.001+09:00

Seventeen years ago on this very evening I had been in labor all day long. I started out the day a chipper naive 25 year old, clueless to the pains of motherhood. I had been pretty impatient during the last month of my pregnancy. After all, his due date was the 21st of January, so by Feb 7th I was dying to give birth already. I was scheduled to be induced and practically skipped into labor and delivery announcing in my most happiest voice "we're here to be induced!" Looking back I wish I had been more proactive on my own behalf with my doctor. No one these days lets their patients go that far over their due date and I should not have waited that long either. Letting him grow another 2.5 weeks could possibly be what set me up for a very difficult delivery, and grueling recovery (level IV tear ladies. I don't advise looking it up). But I guess no one could predict the size of his noggin.

On Feb 7th 1994 I went through all the nurse's shifts. AM, afternoon, PM, nightshift and back to AM once again. Boy were they surprised to see me. I also got to see (for a second time) the same nursing school students who sheepishly asked (for the second time) if they could watch my birth. I, once again granted permission (although feeling the way I was I really should have said "no"I don't think it was in my vocabulary at the time though). Once again the young students had to leave disappointed and unenriched. He wasn't coming out in time for them to learn on me. By now my Doctor was coming in and looking stressed. I thought he was showing an ample amount of concern for me and my son. That could have been the case. However he was also worried about another deadline. He was scheduled to leave on a cruise that day and was concerned about passing me off to someone else.

Eventually Big Boy was born. When I think back on that experience I remember it as... overwhelming and painful. I was fully numb but super exhausted. I had the shakes and felt sick while holding him for the first time. Then came some guilt at not bonding instantly with my newborn. What did that say about me? It just said that after 28 hours of labor I couldn't really muster the strength to care about anything.

When T and I discussed getting pregnant again two years later the memory of that delivery (and some horrible postpartum care) still haunted me and I almost couldn't go through with it again. I am so glad I did because the next experience was so much better! I guess you could say Big Boy was the trail blazer that made it all possible for the next in line. Thanks big guy! We all owe you big time.

I can hardly believe he is 17 tomorrow. How did that even happen? He is so close to leaving me and I find that impossible. Big Boy is such a great and interesting kid/man-child. I guess if someone shaves and talks in a deep baritone voice then they are no longer a kid. He is musical, and comical, and smart. He is sensitive and thoughtful and intense. He shows great potential. He also has a lot of growing still to do. I am trying to wait patiently for that to happen. Just as he kept me waiting for 2.5 weeks in the beginning of his life, he's still playing that game of "I'll get there when I'm good and ready and not before." I am proud to be his mother. I am regretful that he had to be my guinea pig. I hope he will forgive me someday for all my matronly shortcomings. I love him. He is my Big Boy, and he's now 17.

Big Boy and his personality shown here

Snow Storm: Part 2

2011-02-02T12:40:00.001+09:00

I realize that there is another storm on the way right now. I guess I better blog about the last one we had before new storm stuff starts to happen : ) My Dad calls me whenever there is something big headed my way (as if I don't listen to the weather reports). He just wants to know if I have bought myself a generator yet. They only cost 1,300.00. We just need one with 500 watts to run our heater he tells me. One thing we did manage to get during the last power outage was more firewood. Half a cord to be exact. What's a cord you ask? I couldn't really say but we have a half of one sitting out on our back porch just now if you want to take a look. What we need next is a rack to stack it on. Maybe next year. Hopefully we will use enough of it this winter to be able to put our patio furniture back where it belongs come summertime.

The interesting thing to me about this years outage (which was twice as long as last years) is that it didn't seem nearly as bad. Perhaps because we weren't snowed in, we didn't actually go anywhere but the fact that we could have made a big difference I think. Also, the next day was bright and sunny. We spent a fair amount of time sitting outside soaking in the rays. We played in the snow, having snowball fights and making a snow fort. We shoveled for the needy neighbors, and had some good old fashioned family time. Then T warmed up some water for cocoa on the camp stove and it tasted so much better than the cocoa we make straight from our water dispenser. We have a hot water option on the water dispenser that gets the water pretty darn hot, but this camp-stove water was so great! Possibly because we were so cold. We spent time playing games inside and building Big Girl's Lego house that had been half finished since Christmas. We sat around the fire and played the game "would you rather." You play this by taking turns asking questions like "would you rather... slide down a slide full of razor blades or climb up a rope full of prickly burrs." or "would you rather always wear earmuffs or nose plugs." Stuff like that.

After we finally got our neighbor to come by and move his car out of our driveway T and Big Boy went for firewood. We formed an assembly line to transfer it all from the van to the back porch and played another fun game. T would say to Little Boy as he passed on his small stack of wood "tell your mother I love her." So my son would relay that message down the line to me. I would then hear another message a minute later like "Dad thinks your pretty." I gotta tell you, there is nothing better than the happy look on your son's face when he is giving you a message like that from your sweetheart. I, of coarse sent a few messages of my own reinforcing the knowledge of parental love in our home. Some of them were kinda steamy and I thought they would fly over my kids heads. I was wrong. Oh well.

By the time we finished that chore the daylight had ended. We were forced to order pizza instead of making hamburgers in the dark of our kitchen. We had planned on cooking them outside on the grill. We were pretty sure the pizza place had power when a lost delivery guy showed up at our house with someone else's pizza. But it gave us the idea I guess. After dinner we sat around the fire reading from My Father's Dragon. It's a family favorite from way back. The power came on in the middle of our reading and we actually decided to turn the lights back off and continue reading by the fire. My oldest was so content and feeling the love of our family unit that he vocalized the words "I love our family" with a sigh. Now how often does he say things like that? Never I say! So maybe a little power outage here and there is just what a family needs to stay close these days. No distractions of the world to confuse us. Was it a perfect day? No. Were there meltdowns? Yes. But in the end we all looked back on the day with fondness. So I say bring on the next storm. We can handle it!

The day after the storm was lovely!

Big Girl working on a fort

Snow Storm: Part 1

2011-01-30T09:51:00.001+09:00

Wednesday night I was concerned. We were we pretty unprepared for a big storm that had just blown in, and our power had been flirting with the possibility of going out. It would go out, and then 30 seconds later it would flit back on again, causing us to hurry up and load the dishes into the dishwasher, and to quickly find flashlights in the various flashlight hide-outs of our home. However my main reason for concern was that T was still on his way home from work and the storm was looking bad. He had called to say that his drive was going about as slow as possible. He was literally inching his way home. Little Girl did a cute impression of how fast his car was moving by placing a flattened hand on the table and telling us "this is Daddy's car" and then moving her hand at it's slowest possible pace. I figured it would take him an extra hour or so to get home. I figured wrong, and the longer it took him the more on edge I became. I think I have a pretty unhealthy fear of losing a loved one since my mother passed away when I was 20. I often dream of being widowed, then I wake up with such relief that I can't really describe it. It's only second or third to the other nightmares I have of being an old maid or being cheated on by my husband. I think I need therapy. But I digress...

Finally our power did go out forcing us to bed. I had my fire-starter middle son start us a fire downstairs for some warmth. We looked outside at our small wood pile and hoped we could make it last as long as it was needed. Unfortunately T and I were not successful in replenishing that pile. Just two days before, we had tried a few places without luck. We saw huge wood piles just sitting there with signs saying "For Sale" but no one around to buy it from. Weird. If we weren't honest people we could have just helped ourselves. Without power our home gets cold pretty fast and so some of us slept downstairs in front of the fire. I let the two girls sleep in my bed with me and they thought it was a great-girly-sleepover-party. I tried to act happy but by now I was feeling the stress. Last year we lost power for a day and were snowed in for a week with back to back storms breaking all kinds of snowfall records. The memory of last year is still a bit too fresh I'm afraid.

After everyone was asleep I drifted off for a bit then woke up worried. Still no T. I texted my husband and asked if he was OK. He replied that he was. I asked how his gas tank was holding out. It was now about 9:30 pm. He had been on the road since 4:00. He didn't reply. I tried to convince myself that it was because he was driving faster and so he couldn't text. But soon my overactive imagination crept in and told me it was because he was stuck or hurt or kidnapped, who can guess?! My rational side calmed me down and I waited. I waited and waited and waited. I started to hear trees cracking under the pressure of the storm and ice tumbling down my rain gutters (or so I imagined). Then I heard a new sound. The sound of a car stuck in the snow trying to get up the hill, tires spinning. I thought to myself "poor sap." It also occurred to me that this was the first car I had heard outside for some time. No plow sounds either. 'No one was getting in this neighborhood tonight' I thought. I worried more. It sounded like the sap was giving up hope of getting unstuck. His car stopped. Then about 10 minutes later I heard a loud and alarming bang bang bang on the door. I jolted upright and dropped my cell phone I'd been clutching behind the mattress at the top of my bed. Shoot! I'd have to fish that out later. I fumbled for my flashlight and my robe. I ran to the door thinking it might be a stranger who needed to borrow a shovel and I was trying to decide weather to err on the side of caution or humanity. There is no need to tell you how super relieved I was to see that the poor sap at the door was, in fact, my husband! He was the driver of the poor stuck car!!! Happy day! And just as I was letting my stress bubble pop he said something to me that, at the time, seemed like such a strange thing. He said "what a blessing!" Not the first thing you'd think to hear after the man spent 6 hrs on the road without dinner. I acted confused and he explained how lucky he felt to have gotten stuck just outside our home. How fortunate it was that at the last minute he decided that a quarter tank of gas might not be enough, so he filled up the tank. I guess he'd had a few close calls on his journey, almost getting stuck. Cars were being abandoned right and left. He had thought about walking the last 8 miles home but he was wearing ankle socks and sneakers. So, then I understood how "blessed" we were. He woke up a willing helper (middle boy) who loves to shovel and the two of them spent the next hour not only shoveling his car out but our entire driveway as well. We ended up letting a couple neighbors park their cars in our drive overnight.

As I watched them shoveling from my front window, (too wound up to go back to sleep yet) I noticed an exodus of walkers coming down the streets without their cars and felt we really did have cause to be grateful. I am not sure how I would have handled it if T hadn't made it home. I had been sick for the past few days with a painful sinus infection. The kids had been home due to school closures, etc and I have been a bit of a mess emotionally. So I am so thankful for this bright spot this week. Maybe now the normal 45 minute commute won't feel quite so bad for either of us.

Cheese Evolution

2011-01-24T03:57:00.002+09:00

I was just doing a fridge-rummage getting some ingredients together for my Sunday dinner. I counted 13 different kinds of cheese in my dairy drawer. Is that too many kinds of cheese? It seemed like a lot to me. I grew up in a family where we had one kind of cheese in our home. Cheddar cheese. Usually it was purchased in large one foot long blocks, grated up with Mom's food processor, and put into a large plastic container for easy access. A handful of grated cheese made a quick snack at my home. Sometimes there may have been a block of swiss (so fancy!). If there was an extra sharp block of cheese it was reserved for slicing and sharing. When my husband-to-be came up to my home one time, and he felt a great sense of acceptance into the family when my father shared a precious slice of cheese from the "sharp block." Still that is only 3 types of cheese that I had been exposed to by the time I was 23 yrs old. I was totally confused as a teenager when a rival school teenager made an insulting comment one night after a basketball game. He asked me "So are you from Provo High?" I told him yes (he was from Timpview), and he tried to make a stupid joke comparing Provo High to provolone cheese. Something like "What do they serve you guys for lunch over there a bunch of provolone?" I wasn't even sure what provolone was and I had to go and look it up. And in case you were curious, no that didn't get him far with me and no, our cafeteria did not in fact serve provolone cheese, although it would make perfect sense right?

Recently I got a bit of flack from one of my Utah relatives over my post observing Utahisms that I notice whenever I am in town. I even got a call from my brother who ribbed me a bit telling me that I shouldn't make fun of Utah when I am a Utah girl. I remember (back when I had never lived outside Utah) feeling offended by non-Utah people bashing Utah when they would come there for college. I'd think "why are you here then? If you don't like it then leave, just don't complain to the locals for heavens sake!" Now I understand a bit more about where they are coming from. I still don't think you should poop where you live. Having lived in many places I think you should always look for what is good about your place of residence. Especially when you are among the natives. But his statement about me being a Utah girl makes me wonder... Am I still a Utahn? It's where I came from and I am proud of that. But I have changed in many ways since I moved away in 1994. I think one of those ways might be cheese related. Would I have evolved in the world of cheese if I had stayed put? Maybe. I can't really say. I can say that I'm grateful that now, my dairy is varied. I recommend branching out. So, now I'm curious, tell me fellow bloggers... what cheese is in your fridge and where are you living? (I promise I won't judge) For the record here are my cheeses: cottage, ricotta, string, swiss, cheddar,velveeta (maybe I shouldn't count that), parmesan, mozzarella, havarti, monterey jack, babybel, laughing cow, cream cheese and we just ran out of gorgonzola!

Reflections on the Wedding

2011-01-22T01:37:00.001+09:00

My bloggy friend Noyb (aka: Single Mormon Chick) has requested that I blog about the events of the wedding. She finds LDS men who re-marry quickly a fascinating topic. I must say that the timing of the wedding six months after his wife passed away was not at all shocking to any of us. This is the second time he has rebounded quickly after losing a wife to cancer. The first time was with my mother and his single life lasted about 3 months that time. There are no shortage of widows in Utah Valley and my Dad was definitely looking to re-marry as soon as possible. He just doesn't do well without a spouse. My sisters and I cleaned his house for him before the reception of people that were coming, and it was pretty clear that clutter and dust (not to mention urine stains) don't bother him much. He could totally afford a cleaning lady if he wanted one, but it was just not a priority. His priority was finding a new bride. I would call and talk to him about once a week from Maryland and hear about all the new gals he'd been taking out. I knew it wouldn't be long. I can't really explain it except to say that he is an 81 yr old who is a mover and a shaker!

I am glad to report that his new bride seemed to be everything I had heard from those who knew her. When we first met and I introduced myself she hugged me once and said "that's for being you" then hugged me twice and said "and that's for coming so far to be here" I was tickled with this validating way to greet me. She was witty, fun, welcoming, artsy, eclectic, nervous, and lovely. Her home was where she wanted to be married and although I didn't understand that at first, (why not a chapel where more family members could be present?), after seeing her place it made more sense to me. When you walked through the entry way there was another set of doors to go through but before that, you were greeted by a huge 20 yr old rubber-tree plant that had been growing up through the earth below. They must have built the house around it and I sensed that this home was special to her. She had placed votive candles throughout the leaves and branches. I loved looking at all the old photos of her family on the walls in her home. There were old school photos of her children, black and white photos of her as an airline stewardess in front of a plane, photos of her first husband who'd been killed in Vietnam who was quite the looker! Prom photos, family photos, kids with dreadlocks and bare shoulders on the beaches of Hawaii, kids playing violin or rock climbing. It was not a fancy display with matching frames equally spaced and level, but it was a testament of a loving mother, and it touched me. Another thing that touched me was the glass display case full of dolls from all nations. Not only was the amount impressive but the fact that I interpreted this to mean that she appreciated diversity, and that she was accepting. Not always an easy trait to find in a step mother I have found. The ceremony was simple and she recited some John Denver lyrics to my Dad and he repeated them back to her. There was a flower giving and taking with kisses on cheeks arranged by her I am certain. It was sweet. Then her cute grand daughter threw petals in celebration. My uncle made a horrible insulting toast and my 'cream of the crop' brother redeemed our family with some more appropriate words about how my Dad accepted his step children (calling them "chosen" children) wholeheartedly some 41 years ago. I know there was to be some cataract surgery on the groom the following Monday and my Dad said they would be honeymooning in a cave up the canyon somewhere, so I haven't called. I wish them all the best. Especially when they try and combine all her stuff with his into one house. That will be quite the test indeed. If they can make it through that they can make it through anything.

Blogging From the West

2011-01-15T23:32:00.002+09:00

As it turns out I nabbed myself a last minute plane ticket (and an invitation-wahoo) to my Father's wedding so I am in Utah for the weekend. I know it may seem odd that I wasn't invited at first. Let's just say it's complicated and an 81 yr old man without much patience or taste for sentimentallity didn't mind the exclusion of family. He still loves us and all. I guess that's the main thing.

I am anxious to meet his fiance. She sounds like a lovely lady. An ex-stewardess who has travelled the world, speaks multiple languages, and wears beres with matching plad skirts to church. What's not to like?! I have been assigned the job of taking photos at the wedding. Oh how I wish now that I had packed my Nikkon D90. I am not sure borrowing my brother-in-law's point and shoot will even compare. I had limited space in my carry on luggage, and we all know that the D90 takes up quite a bit of space.

So one of my favorite things to do whenever I come to Utah is notice the cultural differences compared to where I live in the East. Everyone's got a happy springy outlook which I love. The lady at the Alamo car rental counter couldn't have been more shiny. But almost 5 minutes into my drive from the airport in my Hyundai, I noticed a distinct undefinable difference in (of all things) the commercials on the radio station. The first commercial was a scripted ad read by the disc jockey. It endorsed lazer hair removal which in and of itself is not Utah specific. We have our fair share of hair in unwanted places. It was the angle the ad was coming from. The last line he said was "don't worry about it being an indulgence ladies, just think about all the service you could render to others with the extra time on your hands not having to do your own hair removal!" I wondered how he could even read that without cracking up! I mean all that shaving in the shower was starting to give me a guilty concience lately. I could have been baking cookies for someone, or taking a widow without a car to the grocery store or something. But, you know... all that hair removal I spend my time on has been getting in the way and I feel I need to re-evaluate my priorities.

The next two commercials were about tanning beds and safire rings on sale at the jewelers. By the time I got to Provo I began to have low self esteem due to hairy white legs and lack of bling. No wonder there are rumors that anti-depressants are prescribed in high amounts to the women here. So much pressure to be perfect angels of service without roots that ever need toching up. Maybe I am too harsh. It's just that these things really stick out when I visit.

One last obervation before I click 'publish post' and get my day started. We went on BYU's campus to go through the Harris Fine Arts center. The exhibit was amazing! The IPad walking tour really added to the experience and the Carl Bloch paintings up close were breathtaking. I love me some art! But that isn't what I wanted to write about. The second we saw the Zoobies (students) I couldn't stop giggling. They all looked so young! My memories of Provo are to when I was young myself and the students on BYU's campus looked older than me or my same age. I used to feel intimidated by them and now they looked like punks who should be wearing more than just a hoodie in 20 degree weather. I jokingly called out to one of them from my car and told them about the pimple that needed popping on their chin and did their mother know they were wearing shorts in January. I was tickled. I'm a big girl now I guess. Now excuse my while I go spend a selfish amont of time shaving my legs. I may even indulge in some lotion afterwards.

Nothing More Than Feelings

2011-01-11T23:06:00.001+09:00

A feverish child needing medication and hugging in the night makes me feel needed and worried.

A sick child who can't make it to the potty (darn those footsie PJs!) in time at 2:00 am makes me feel tired.

A new storm coming our way tonight makes me feel excited. It also makes me want to get more milk and Motrin.

A sassy teenager makes me feel angry and sad.

Hearing my sons play church hymns together makes me feel proud.

Hearing those same sons argue over who is messing up makes me feel like a parental failure.

Seeing my Little Boy's feelings get hurt by his brother makes me cry inside for him.

Talking to my friend on the phone for a long time makes me feel validated.

Cleaning the house angry makes me feel productive.

Reading updates on Facebook for too long, makes me feel like a bit of a loser.

Wondering what is for dinner makes me feel stressed.

Having my husband hug me after arriving home from work makes me feel relieved.

Not being invited to a wedding in Utah makes me feel hurt.

Talking it over with another uninvited sister makes me feel better.

No Spam Please

2011-01-07T03:56:00.001+09:00

So I am doing pretty good with my goal this year to give myself a break and not worrying so much. Today for instance, after I got Big Girl, (Audrey) (- that was for you Paula-) off to early morning French today, I climbed back into my bed (unshowered btw) and went back to sleep while Little Girl (Eliza) watched Shrek the 3rd. [An aside: Shrek the third is possibly the worst of the Shrek movies with the exception of the Snow White scream/sing scene]. I had intended to actually cuddle up with my daughter and watch a movie while the dishes sat undone but soon it turned into a nap. A nap at 8:00 am! Can you believe how incredibly well I am doing at relaxing? Now let me assure you of my non-laziness. The previous day I never stopped for a moment. And the day before that was a very similar story. So I was due for some rest. I am also doing great this year at avoiding getting sick. People around me have been getting sick right and left! Even in my own home. I don't know how I am doing it but I think changing the filter in our heater at the beginning of the cold months has helped. Someone said it would and I believed them. Now that I have said this openly I will probably be sick by the weekend. Keep me in your thoughts please!

Now for my next resolution (just recently made) I am trying to cut out spam in my life. Due to online shopping (a weakness) I am cursed with an incredible amount of emails from vendors that I would just assume not be getting. I will come to them if and when I am interested but I don't want to hear about every sale going on 10 times a day. Oh my goodness! I just checked my email in the midst of writing this post and got some spam comment on my blog. Lovesecrets.com is calling and I don't want to answer. That has to be some sort of weird fate. It's like Big Brother is always watching and He can see what I am writing about. I guess I better put my spam blocking word verification back up.

To stop all the emails I have been "unsubscribing" like crazy for the past week. I know it takes time for the block to work but I am not seeing any improvement yet. The ones I hate are the ones where you are directed to the shopping site itself in order to unsubscribe. They are just counting on someone as impatient as me to forget about reading all the fine print, possibly go shopping for a bit, and keep getting their stupid junk mail. Yes, I mean you QVC. And I never even bought from you but I had to sign on with an account just to look. Pretty sneaky Sis! Someone showed me a trick of 'bouncing' the email back to the sender making it seem as if it's not a valid email address. I haven't had much luck doing this. Maybe I am not bouncing the right way. If anyone knows of some good suggestions for me I am all ears. Those are some emails I would be glad to click on. I will also be glad to open up a can of processed meat and grill it up for dinner. We can all use more of that kind of Spam in my opinion.

"Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow"

2011-01-05T03:53:00.000+09:00

"...Creeps in it's petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out out brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; Signifying nothing."

This was one of the Shakespeare quotes that my high school english teacher had us memorize. It's nice and dark. It sometimes comes into my mind while I am washing dishes, or reading Christmas cards (you know the kind don't you?), or while folding the laundry (also "Out out damned spot" is a good one for the laundry). January is the time for reflection on the past and looking forward with hope to the future. In our family we have a tradition that is hanging on by a thread. We like to make predictions for the coming year and then we stash them in a box. Then on New Year's Day the following year we open the box and see how accurate we were. Then we predict (or make goals) for the next year. The problem is that sometimes (like this year), we can't find our prediction box... I predict that next year we won't have any predictions if we don't find that box soon.

It always seems that my predictions are (predictably) about getting in better shape. I would also like to read more and have more peace in our home. We'll see if any of that happens. I can really relate to Shakespeare's line in the quote above about strutting and fretting our hour upon the stage. Why do we put so much pressure on ourselves to achieve something big every January? It makes the month of January a bit of a downer for me. Why not make January a month of looking back at what you did do the previous year and give yourself a nice pat on the back or a cheeseburger at Five Guys? To say "I made it this year" "I am still here!" "I may not be perfect but none of us is perfect and that is OK!"

For Christmas this year we got a movie I am adoring more and more each time a watch 5-10 minutes of it here and there. We all know I can't sit down and waste time watching an entire movie downstairs with the kids. My TV watching is limited to the times when I have to fold laundry. Maybe that should be my resolution for this year, to sit back and relax more with my kids and let the laundry and housework wait. Anyways, back to my point which was the movie I am loving... It's Fantastic Mr Fox and there is some interesting and confusing symbolism in it. I am still trying to figure out the scene where he waves to the Wolf. There is a running theme that we shouldn't have to live up to what others (or even we) expect of ourselves. There is also the theme that no matter what we try to be underneath we are all just what we were meant to be "wild" or "different."

So we can make goals of course, but let's be realistic. Most of us look exactly the same in the Christmas card photo year after year. Most of us should just focus on learning to be content with the money we make, the achievements we have done thus far, the people we have helped along the way. Let's just focus on being content this year. That is my goal... BTW my arms hurt today from starting off the first Monday of the year with some good effort at my Pilates on the Ball with Lizbeth Garcia. Happy New Year!

A Conversation About Sex

2010-12-31T12:09:00.003+09:00

Does my title surprise you a bit? Sorry to be blunt. I have always thought that when approaching the topic of the birds and the bees that we shouldn't bring insects and flowers into the mix. It's just confusing. And I hate the symbolism of the bee flitting from flower to flower without commitment to any one flower, spreading pollen willy nilly without a care. I know the flower needs the pollen to produce more flowers and it's part of the cycle of life but when comparing that to human interaction, it leaves me a bit miffed. I believe in being up front and not giggling about it when you tell your kids. Practice saying all the body parts without smirking so your kids will follow suit and take you seriously... It's a good thing.

Tonight I had a conversation not involving birds or bees with my daughter Big Girl. I like to explain it to my kids before the playground version gets to them. She will be 8 in a couple of months. The others before her already knew the facts by this age. So, while I was wrapping presents for Little Girl's birthday party, I sprang the subject on her. Of course I was gentle. I told her about the sacred nature of intercourse. I emphasized the commitment levels that should be involved first. I told her that our bodies are amazing gifts that are sacred. I told her sex was enjoyable and that it was a way to show love, but only within the right boundaries.

I am always a bit surprised by the various responses I have had over the years having this talk with my kids. My first son was amazed by the biology aspect, my second son asked me a very important question "Are we done talking about this now?" and my third son said "So you guys have had sex 5 times!?" Big Girls reaction made me think that perhaps I had spoken to her about this sensitive subject a bit too soon. Her big query was if Santa and Mrs Claus did this with each other. I said I think most married couples do have sex, and we left it at that. When I told T this he laughed and said that Mr and Mrs Claus definitely do have sex. After all, they have all that mistletoe around the place.

So, what do you readers think? If a kid is young enough to still believe in Santa that they are too young for "the talk"?

Maybe it is time for us to have another eye-opening chat about St Nick.... Just not this close to Christmas.

Today

2010-12-28T09:48:00.000+09:00

I am currently enjoying a break with T home for the holidays. He goes back tomorrow and then I will officially start my Christmas Mourn. Today we decided to brave the wintery winds and go see a movie. I cannot recommend Tron I am afraid. I was warned too. I heard one reviewer on the radio who claimed to have a brain tumor caused by watching that movie. Seemed a bit severe I thought, and then I saw it. I now see his point. I told our friends who recommended the movie choice that I sure liked the ending. That was code for "I was sure glad when it was over!" So do yourself a favor and skip that movie.

Before our Tron experience we tried out our the brand new Five Guys that opened up in our fair city a couple weeks ago. We were standing there waiting to order and looked behind us to find two Mormon missionaries. We can spot them you see, because we are also LDS. (Latter Day Saints). I said hello to them. They had been figuring us out too I think. A family of 7 you don't see often around these parts, and if you do they are either Mormon or Catholic. Looking back I wish we had bought their lunch for them. I wasn't thinking. I know they are on a budget while they serve their missions.

Tragedy hit when I made a discovery at the movies. Just as we were getting out of the car I looked around and found that my purse was missing. I had left it at the hamburger place. I was just about to return to Five Guys when my cell phone rang. It was a friend who was dropping off a gift at my home. She and I see each other 2-3 times weekly but couldn't seem to ever remember to exchange our neighborly gift. We'd meant to do it several times and it had begun to be a bit of a joke. Now here she was at my door and what just happened to be right on the way home from my house to hers? You guessed it, Five Guys! So she graciously agreed to go and check on my purse. I sat there at the movies looking out at the freezing geese on the pond hoping that humanity would be on my side and that some honest person out there would turn in my purse preventing a huge headache for me. Luckily someone did the right thing (I think, I haven't looked in the purse yet) and they turned in my purse for me. I am grateful! And now this gives me a perfect reason for gift giving (two days after Christmas) to my purse rescuing friend. I think I should throw in a little something extra.

Are You Ready?

2010-12-24T01:56:00.001+09:00

Are you ready for Christmas? I hope so. I'm ready in that I have purchased all my gifts and I would even declare myself ahead since I have started wrapping. However, today I am in a sticky spot. My youngest is home and I would love to wrap more but there are only so many movies I dare let her watch. Not wrapping when I would like to is like having an itch that needs to be scratched and I can't reach it. I need to wrap but alas, I cannot. I am beginning to understand why the Santa I had growing up didn't bother with the trimmings and trappings of wrapping things up. We'd rush in to a feast for the eyes taking in each unwrapped present all at once. I thought I liked the idea of taking our time and appreciating each present individually. So I wrap my kid's presents. Instead we now get a glimpse of parents scolding children for not waiting and taking turns and we also know how each present is received (good or bad I might add). I don't like the idea of staying up into the wee hours wrapping, so maybe our Santa needs a new approach. But how do you change something like that mid-stream?

Yesterday I tried wrapping while Little Girl slept and it totally backfired on me. She snuck downstairs and walked right in on me! She saw a Christmas gift intended for one of her brothers and asked what it was. I just didn't have time to hide it. I was lucky to get the stuff intended for her put away fast enough. Now I am in a quandary as to what to do with this gift. Do I still give it as a gift from Santa? Will she be smart enough to remember? Do I count on the distraction of her gifts to mask my mistake? Then, to make matters worse, this morning she was foraging for stickers in a drawer in my bedroom and instead found some candy intended for our stockings. I had been separating packages of Ande's mints out for everyone's stockings and had an extra so I stashed it unsafely away. Now what? Does everyone have to sacrifice for my foolish mistake? Do I just tell her that Santa has the same taste in after-dinner-mints as me? Will she even notice? I know she probably will. I hate to spoil the magic of Christmas for my 3 yr old. It's almost over for Big Girl. She plays along pretending to believe in Santa, and she is a terrible actress. I have been down this road before and I know what I will say when the truth comes to the table. Believing in Santa is believing in the true spirit of Christmas because we give without the recognition of being the giver. Santa was once a real person on the earth (wasn't he?) who inspired these charitable acts and we follow in that tradition choosing to give on Christmas because that is the day that we recognize the biggest gift ever given. The gift of Jesus Christ on the earth. Then I tell them that I am just one of Santa's helpers. I will never forget the reaction of my oldest son when I broke down and told him to prevent him being teased at school over it (he was getting too old and still believed). He looked up at me and said "so it was you all the time?!" and I thought he was going to lose it. Then he surprised me by saying "Thank you for all those gifts Mom." Yeah, he was once a sweet sweet boy. Now sometimes I am tempted to put coal in his stocking, but overall he's alright.

I hope all you friends out there in bloggy land have a wonderful holiday! And don't get caught with Andie's mints in your drawers two days before Christmas now you hear?

Christmas Mourn Remembered

2010-12-20T21:14:00.000+09:00

I am re-posting an old entry today because I'm too busy to write much lately. This post was from two years ago and only got one comment back then, so I am assuming many of you have not read it. If I do say so myself, it is worth repeating. It was written by my husband while in Iraq for our Christmas letter that year. Yesterday in church, my husband was one of the speakers, and he used this letter as a part of his talk. The response was good. I would compare it to getting about 17 comments on the blog (which, for me is great!). Hope you are all doing your best to be in the right Christmas spirit this year.... Happy last week before Christmas!
-Kelly

T in his nerdy dust resistant glasses

Christmas in Babylon

For me, Christmas Day is anti-climactic. So much that I usually slip into clinical depression for about 24 hours. I’m not sure when it started to be like that but I think it began around the time we started having children. “Oh sure, blame it on the kids” you say, but really, I think that’s when it began. And anyway, I’ll remind you that someone very wise and childless once wrote “there are no bad children, only bad parents.” To be sure, I enjoy the season- the anticipation, the decorations, the sights, smells, sounds, and tastes of Christmas. The shopping I could maybe do without but everything else I like. On Christmas Eve though, as we stuff the stockings, and barricade the tree with presents – that’s when it starts. It blooms in full the next morning - just after the kids have their melee of ripping open and pillaging the presents, when all that’s left are heaps and mounds of paper, instruction manuals, boxes, and warranty cards. I wade through the living room like it’s a battlefield, feeling a bit devastated and trying to decide what to do next. Then I surrender. I find that tin of cashews from my own stocking and start eating. I’ll usually make it half way through before I realize that I’m in a cashew-eating daze and standing like a statue in the middle of the room, clueless what to do. This forlorn feeling will find expression throughout the day in napping, more cashews, video games, and staring at the walls. I’ve reluctantly acquiesced to this phenomenon and even given it a name: “Christmas Mourn.” I don’t like it one bit and for years I wished it were different, though I’ve done nothing to change it.

Babylon was the greatest city in the world at one time. The ruins of Babylon are located just south of my location here in Iraq. The scriptures use Babylon as a symbol of the great antagonist of the Lord’s Kingdom and even today the term “Babylon” is used to symbolize the World and worldliness. I’m no Babylon wonk but I know enough to realize that this smacks a little of poetic justice and irony. This Christmas, I am in Babylon. This year will bring none of the festivities to which I’m so accustomed. There will be for me no fetching of and trimming the tree, no caroling, no wassail, and no tradition. There will be no vicarious joy in seeing the children buzz with excitement on Christmas morning. There will be no staring deeply into the eyes of my beautiful wife. In short, there will be none of the romance of Christmas. I’ll spend Christmas this year in a war-torn land where for the locals, survival is the order of the day, depravity is everywhere, and all are in need of a miracle. The Army will try to feed me a Christmas meal, but it won’t be the same. The turkey served for Thanksgiving dinner was a perfectly-shaped disc, having been cut from a “tube o’ turkey”. I’m sure there will be an equivalent “tube o’ ________” on Dec 25th. Are you starting to feel sorry for me? Well don’t because I deserve it. After squandering so many Christmases at home, I needed a good slap-in-the-face wake-up call. Quite simply, Christmas has been boiled down to the basics this year and I’ve been compelled to return to its nucleus.

What have I found? Well, for one thing, I’ve found more gratitude. Gratitude for the supportive friends and family I left behind. Gratitude for a fantastic wife and five great children. Gratitude for the freedom we enjoy in America. Gratitude for our Founding Fathers who spent their lives in the service of God and Country. But those aren’t Christmas-y themes, you say?! Those are things one should be grateful for year-round, I know. Well, I’ve also found what the Grinch found after he stole Christmas and then it came anyway for the Whos down in Whoville; that you don’t need stuff for Christmas. But there’s more. Lots more. I figured out that Christmas at it’s core is about Christ. Always a little slow on the uptake, I realized that on the eve of His birth, there was no tree and there were no presents and there was no great feast – not even a turkey disc. Mary and Joseph must have known something of depravity and oppression for she gave birth in a Manger, in a land occupied by a foreign government. On the day of His birth, I’m sure Joseph didn’t walk about in a daze, eating cashews, wondering what’s next. He must have felt the magnitude of the great event, the Advent of the Savior of the World. They both must have been at once profoundly humbled and grateful, for to Mary had been born the great Miracle for all generations. They probably spent the day in wonder, awe, gratitude and not a little trepidation for the great task ahead of raising the Son of God. They probably looked forward that day with a renewed hope for the future of mankind.

Hopefully I will have learned my lesson this year and celebrate Christmas as intended. Hopefully, I will never return to Christmas in Babylon and there will never be another Christmas Mourn. - NTT.

Spoiler Alert! If you are on our Christmas card list don't read....Unless you are the type who peeks into closets finding out what you get for Christmas early each year. Then you can go ahead : )

2010-12-13T21:14:00.005+09:00

Here is our 2010 Christmas card letter. It may have lost something in translation due to the formate and name changes I have made for use on the blog. It may be a bit too long for those who don't really know my family. It may be great writing or it may be a lame attempt. But what you should know is that we usually take the writing of the Christmas letter pretty seriously around here. This year we have a newspaper theme and it's the first repeat idea we've recycled in about 10 years of writing this stupid thing. Do I sound bitter? Well that is because it hasn't been mailed yet and I am in the throws of finding addresses, folding paper, getting stamps, wondering why we have 89 people on our list, etc... I will be much better in a couple days. Happy Holidays!

(Our Last Name) Times

December 2010

Little Girls’s Beat

Little Girl is on the case, with reporting skills like no other 3 yr old we know. Her powers of observation know no limits. Some may call it ‘tattling’ but that is just their bitterness talking. Freedom of the press reigns supreme in this household. In other Little Girl news, she reports that she is enjoying being “home schooled” by her Mother and is at the head of her preschool class. Maybe next year Kelly will be able to cut the apron strings and send her last chick off to school. Even though she is the youngest in the nest she rules the roost!

Ask Big Girl

Big Girl is so thoughtful and she loves giving advice. Just ask! She will solve any problem you readers have. She is also our talented staff artist and now has a claim to fame with a fist full of ribbons, and $16.00 in prize money from our local fair this year. Who cares if the dusty, un-mastered two-wheeled bike still taunts her from the garage. She’s a friend to one and all. Her other activities include piano, girl scouts, and pretending she is a teacher to her many stuffed animals. We adore our Big Girl.

Little Boy About Town

SMMSS (single male middle school student) has recently discovered girls and is not ashamed. He likes hot chocolate with whip cream, digging holes on the beach at sunset, and trying out new dance moves. Anyone interested may find him in the middle school cafeteria each day at noon with a white carnation in his teeth and a peanut butter sandwich he’s willing to split with you in his sack lunch (peanut-allergic females need not reply). In his spare time, he can be found practicing violin or running cross-country. His parents are not trying to get rid of him any time soon.

Middle Boy For Hire

Whatever you need, Middle Boy’s your man. He’s more than just your average handyman. His handy texting skills are unmatched!! He works hard at almost everything he does. He also finds great pleasure in relaxing. Middle Boy’s baking is impressive and he is officially in charge of making our staff’s Sunday afternoon treats. Middle Boy plays piano and lacrosse. He does a good Justin Bieber impression for your next BGP (boy-girl party). However, you’d have to pay him a million dollars first. Hire him now, he needs the money for a new cell phone.

Big Boy News

Big Boy is growing by leaps and bounds and the only thing going faster around here is the food from the fridge. His parents can’t understand where that cute little frog-loving boy went. He has turned into a handsome prince who runs cross-country and plays violin beautifully. He has been known to shave, drive and even date (usually in that order). He will be leaving the nest in a few short years and we will all be crying into our pillows every night when that happens.

T and Kelly

These two have successfully completed another year of parenting together. T ran a marathon in Baltimore. Kelly watched him run a marathon in Baltimore. Both felt very satisfied, but only one still has all her toenails in tact. They are happy to still be together running in the marathon of life, and trying to pace themselves for the long haul!

We hope this letter finds you well and happy. Thank you for your friendship and love. Please feel free to check in with us if you are ever in the DC area. We love visitors! Please visit our family website: www.familyylogg.blogspot.com

*All facts were accurate at the time this edition went to print. To renew your subscription to the Times please keep in touch!

Naughty...or Nice?

2010-12-11T07:46:00.001+09:00

So of coarse I do what every mother does this time of year. When a child misbehaves I tell them that "Santa is watching." I even told my teenaged son that Santa was watching him just the other day. He knew just what I meant too. Santa can see into the rear view mirror in the van and see just what he is up to. In years past I have even gone so far as to make a pretend telephone call to St Nick in front of the naughty child. Why wouldn't any self-respecting mother resort to this tactic? I say milk Santa for all he's worth while you still have kids believing and influenced by his magic mirror ball. This year I have had an interesting reaction from Little Girl. No one has ever taken this message so internally before. Each day when we go through the process of getting dressed there is stress. Girls are so finicky about clothes. What gives? And it always seems that when time is short there will be some sort of clothing dilemma followed by short tempered mothers and crying girls. Sometimes we make it through unscathed.

Anyways the usual conversation this Christmas season, after we have finally put clothing on her back, goes as follows: She looks up at me with her big blue eyes asking for an honest behavior evaluation. She says sincerely "am I still on the good list?" I always assure her that she is still good in my book. She refers to Santa's list of course. Ever since I told her about it she seems obsessed with being on the right list. In fact when things are not going well, I need only to mention the list and I get quite the reaction from her. It is good in some ways but it has me wondering what windows to her personality I am getting a glance at here. Since I have older kids too I know that some things they displayed as young toddlers are still with them later in life. Does this mean she will be overly concerned with what people are thinking (or writing) about her. Seeking too much for approval from others could be bad right? Or good... Naughty or nice. Only time will tell I guess. I wish I had a magic mirror ball to see into the future for her.

What She Said

2010-12-09T00:20:00.000+09:00

I found this essay on Facebook this morning. Written by my lovely and newly engaged friend Stacey G. Enjoy.....

Dear John Edwards,

We’ve never met. I’m a 33 year old single mother of two. I’ve been studying for the LSAT all day and getting less than desirable scores on my practice tests, so I’ll admit from the outset that I may be blunt, even coarse. I’m too tired now to be anything else.

I realize that it is bad karma for me to judge you at all. Not just bad karma, but a bad idea altogether. I’ve made a myriad of mistakes in my life. I don’t have the answers to the universe. Actually, I don’t have any answers at all. I especially don’t know the private battles that you’ve waged. I haven’t been inside your head or walked in your shoes. I have no idea what sorts or scopes of emotions you have experienced. It isn’t really that I want to judge you, however. I don’t want to judge you. I want to question as a means to understanding. It is my own questions I want to answer, not yours.

I suppose by existing as a public figure, you are susceptible to this imposing of my personal questions upon your personal struggles. I admired you. Some time ago I endorsed your candidacy, wrote blog entries on your qualifications. But in actuality, you could be anyone. You could be Tiger Woods. Tony Parker. Bill Clinton. Prince Charles. The list. The list goes on.

What I really want to know: Was she worth it? Or if I was going to ask Tiger: were they worth it? Even as I ask the question, I’m not sure if I’m asking about people or orgasms or flattering words pressed against ears or texts jumping off cell phone screens. But in any of these cases, I would love to know: Were they worth it?

What was the motivation? I’m dying to know. Was it a need for power? An ego thing—an intense need for approval, flattery, attention? Was it part of an addiction? Was it for no discernable reason at all? Does it even matter?

You see, I guess I am old-fashioned in that I still believe that people who love each other should be true to each other. It’s hard for me to understand what proves difficult about this. Isn’t it possible? I don’t want to hear about the evolutionary baggage that you carry as a man, the instinctual and continual urge you may have to reproduce and guarantee the continuance of the human race (that was millions of years ago, surely you can rise above it) or the pressure involved in being a public figure. I’m sure it presents its challenges, but we all choose our paths and we all have to deal with the effects of those decisions. Some people have to bust concrete all day and can barely feed their families and they find ways to deal with their stress which doesn’t involve hurting and humiliating their significant other.

I guess I am also old-fashioned in that I believe that if you aren’t happy in a particular situation you find yourself in, then you should definitely change something or many things, but change them in the correct order. If you don’t want to be with someone, tell them that and get out. Then move forward and begin again. Sometimes I feel like the world I live in finds these ideas horrifically antiquated. And that makes me sad. I’m not a traditionally religious woman. I don’t think that God will smite me if I hurt others. I don’t believe in any real concept of hell. I do believe that a basic humanity exists in love, kindness and compassion. I do believe that we should have a basic reverence in our interactions with other people. Whenever our actions significantly affect another life we should tread cautiously, thoughtfully, purposefully.

Was it worth it? I have no idea. I’m asking. Maybe Elizabeth yelled at you daily over breakfast and hit you over the head with a frying pan each time you walked in the door and you felt so claustrophobic in your marriage that you had trouble sleeping. How should I know? All I could see was a beautiful, intelligent woman who stood by your side in so many ways. Beautiful children. Something that maybe you would want to see in a tribute video projected on a backyard screen for your 85th birthday party someday. Something worth fighting for. Maybe? I hear stories like yours and I wonder how a moment or even a string of moments could be worth risking something you have been laboring for your whole life.

Why do I care about your life? Why am I spending whatever free time I have at the end of this long day pounding out an imaginary letter to you on my laptop keyboard? Maybe because the media doesn’t let me ignore the list. And maybe because these questions float above me like a trailing cloud. Just as I haven’t lived inside your head, you haven’t lived inside mine. You don’t know the personal sorrows I’ve experienced or the battle wounds that have resulted in my own personal scars. I see Elizabeth and I see that she was one woman. And at the same time, she was every woman. She worked hard for her family, she suffered personal sorrows. She supported her significant other. For every individual, the details vary, but a basic desire remains the same. All of us, male or female, want to know that the person who we labor beside is truly in our corner. On our side of the river. We have to trust. We have to believe in that. We hope, with all of our hearts, that it is possible.

I wish you all the best John Edwards—politician, father, estranged husband. I hope you can find happiness in your life and live out the rest of your days in peace. May Elizabeth rest in peace. Her work will not be forgotten. I hope many find it in their hearts to donate to the Wade Edwards foundation. I also hope many find it in their hearts to treat others as they would like to be treated. A basic humanity that encompasses honesty, trust and compassionate love. I don’t care if it is antiquated. I’m standing by the definitions of what I hope to be able to live and experience.

My Christmas Rx

2010-12-04T12:02:00.000+09:00

This holiday season I am trying to keep a level head. I love the Christmas season but I do not enjoy the stress of Christmas preparations. I also feel the over indulgence of this season to be a bit of a downer. I look at the toys tossed aside and broken from last year's Christmas holiday (or even this past October's birthday) and I get a bit sick inside. Why are we training our children to be selfish and to look for their happiness in the next new thing? Why is it that on one of the most thankful days of the year (Thanksgiving) I find myself wondering what things I can shop for the next day on black Friday? What kind of example am I setting here?

I found myself in a cranky pre-season mood the other day and I diagnosed myself with the stress-of-the-Christmas-season blues. I think I may have just concocted a cure. Quiet time, and service to others. Recommended dose? One time daily.

The other day on the radio I heard that as a society we spend over 80 percent more time taking in information in one form or another (TV, computer, cell phones, emails, etc) than we did just 40 yrs ago. All this uptake of information isn't necessarily good. We need to make time for silence. One caller pointed out that Einstein used to take long quiet walks to reflect on the deep things he was thinking about. I thought to myself, now that seems like a good idea! It's just that as a mother of 5 I find quiet time a bit hard to come by. I am always thinking of what stuff needs to be done and I can't really sit still for long without feeling guilt. But like I said, I had this cranky day and I needed to think about how to make the next one better. I am a repentant person generally, and if I can make things better I will try. So after a long day of decorating the house for Christmas I decided to just sit back and admire my handiwork for a spell. I sat there for over 15 minutes just taking in the pretty mantel in my banana rocking chair on the floor. Someone called me and I ignored. I thought of something I needed to do, but brushed it aside. Middle Boy came down and we had a nice chat. I just stared into the twinkle lights on the mini-trees. Then in my stillness came the idea to do something nice for my grumpy oldest teenager. Melt his cold winter heart a bit. So I enlisted the help of my two youngest girls who are always up for some niceness. We decorated a one foot white plastic tree that we had sitting in a box and we placed it secretly on the desk in his room. We propped up with orthodontic wax under one side since it's missing one of it's legs. Then we excitedly waited for him to be surprised. It was fun. He really did like it I think. Although, with teens it's hard to tell sometimes. All I know is that he has been more charming to me ever since.

And since that day I have managed to find (at least one time a day) time to reflect and do nothing. And in that time I usually think about what I can do that day (however small) to serve another person. I find this is helping my perspective on the season to be much more in focus. And just so you won't think me a bragging patron saint of service I will divulge that today my act of service was to not lose it with my 3 year old when she had a mega tantrum about her hairdo minutes before we had to be out the door this morning. I just walked away and let her scream her "I hate Moms" at me from afar. As it turned out, she managed to turn her frown upside down much sooner than usual. And we weren't even late for school : )

Fa la la la la la la la la!

A Tangled Day

2010-11-27T11:14:00.001+09:00

Well I just got back from our family's traditional black Friday movie. The parents and the girls were going to see Tangled and the boys had their sights set on the new Harry Potter movie. It didn't turn out to be so traditional this year since we were late, and the movie we wanted to take the girls to was sold out. We were worried during the drive over that Harry Potter would be the movie we'd have to do the ticket pre-order thing for, but Disney's Tangled was the most popular I guess. Or maybe it was just that I took too long at the self-ticket-purchase computer, deciding how to get it to work. I get super muddled and sloppy when it comes to doing technical stuff in front of a hurried audience. I could just feel the irritation behind me. Although the lady over my shoulder was very nice actually and she pointed out my silly problem of not swiping my card in the right direction. Why for the love of all that is holy can they not just make those things universal?! Some face up some face down. Some want the strip West, some like it to the East. They should just get together have a meeting and get universal-swiping worked out already. I mean they can put a man on the moon but they can't make credit card swiping the same everywhere... Sheesh! (I think I might have me some PMS).

Anyways we had to go to a later showing of Tangled and T took over the roll of driver for both groups of people. That's what T gets for making us late with his running. I did offer to drive and let him see the movie with the girls but he wouldn't hear of it. We accidentally paid for the 3D version and I thought I would regret that since my 3 year old doesn't usually like the glasses so it's a waste of the extra money. Not this time! It was so dang beautiful she couldn't stop talking to me about it during the film. Her funniest thing said was at the beginning of the movie when we first put on the glasses. She said "let's cheer our glasses together" (like a toast). We often clink things together when we have two of the same thing. Don't ask me why. We also make a sound effect that sounds like "sha-shingah." Yes, we are bizarre. You gotta problem? So we clinked our faces together and said the words. We had a bit of a moment there, and I was so grateful for her. Then the movie started and I proceeded to have my socks blown off by Disney and their magical story telling skills. The animation was amazing, the music was wonderful. They are some seriously talented people at Disney, and the movie made me cry... twice. Maybe something is up with me (see PMS comment above), but I was so moved by the tale of an kidnapped, abused, abandoned girl who doubts herself but still moves forward hesitantly pursuing her dreams.

I think we all have self doubt sometimes. I know I do. I have also felt the load of family members with hurt feelings venting them on me all last week. I hate being in the middle of family disputes. Why can't we all just hold hands and sing? I tried calling the other party and telling them my feelings on the matter and of course it went in one ear and out the other. I need to get to a happier place. Not in the middle... A place where there are more leftovers in the fridge and the door handle is not sticky. Where my kids leave me more than just a sliver of the french chocolate silk pie. Maybe next Thanksgiving? Maybe I need more perspective. Maybe I just got up too early to shop today and by 9:02pm, I am cranky. Maybe I will go and snuggle with T now. Hope your black Friday was happy and gay.

For me, "tomorrow is another day"

-Scarlett O.