Friday, August 27, 2010

Based on a True Story

Once upon a time a very lucky family received a free ipod Touch. But family's joy at receiving such a wonderful toy was temporarily deflated when THIS happened. Fortunately, everything was OK and the family merrily started down the path of device addiction.

It seemed that everyone wanted a piece of that ipod. The daddy liked to take the ipod into the bathroom with him to play games and surf the net while he was indisposed. The mommy became dependent upon it's glowing screen at bedtime for a round of sudoku. The ipod and it's many games were the incentive for the children's good behavior and a 'consequence' for naughtiness.

Everyone loved the ipod. Maybe a little too much.

Then one day something terrible happened. Something so horrible, the family was sure it was to be their destruction. Somewhere on the vast property of the Bear Lake Condos the ipod slipped out of the daddy's pocket, never to be seen again.

There was much worrying about the personal information stored on the ipod and what could happen if it fell into the wrong hands. There was nervousness about all the photos of the children. But mostly there was sadness.

The daddy was sad because now he would be bored in the bathroom. The mommy was sad because she didn't know how to fall asleep without the ipod. The children were sad because now they would be bored and fight for the 12 hour drive back to Arizona. Everyone was sad.

The family adjusted to life post-ipod. The daddy brought other things into the bathroom. The mommy read books at bedtime. The children started begging for a Nintendo DS. They began to wonder if they really missed the ipod at all.

Then one day something unexpected happened. An email! From a stranger! "I found an ipod Touch in the belly of a sofa at Bear Lake. Is it yours?" Yes! It was theirs! Kind, honest good person from Idaho was going to send it back to the family, refusing to accept money for shipping.

The mommy wondered if she should tell the rest of the family or keep it a secret. Hide the ipod during the day so it could hers, all hers! The rest of them spend too much time with a screen anyway. Right?

The ipod arrived and the mommy was determined not to share. Then child #3 started whining and wanted the mommy to play puzzles with her and doll house with her and color with her, but the mommy NEEDED TO GET SOME WORK DONE and she lost all resolve.

So the ipod made it back to the lucky family and they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Dancing and Disneyland for Seniors

Last week #3 wore a leotard for three days straight in anticipation for her first dance class Friday morning. She was so excited. Here she is in the first minutes of class:

A few minutes later her teacher handed the girls ribbons attached to batons. They were to make the ribbons dance to the music. But #3 got orange not pink and sat herself in the corner pouting for the rest of the 45 minute class.

What a diva.

Sometime I want to tell you about the community center where #3 takes her once-a-week preschool class and her dance class. It serves lunch everyday to senior citizens, so it has a strange cafeteria food smell, but it is wonderfully fascinating. It's like the happiest place on earth for the over 80 crowd. It makes me happy just being there.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

More Firsts

You may have forgotten that I have three kids because it seems like I usually write about #1 or #2. But I do have three. Here she is, #3 on her first day of preschool.

Since school started last week I've been realizing the precious gift this school year is: the chance to bond with and know #3 better. She's different than my other two. She has an iron will and a heart that breaks easily. She is affectionate and loves to snuggle more than the other two combined. She has a crazy good memory and loves all things beautiful and frilly. She has the most adorable, strong lisp.

Just for fun, here are the others on their first days of preschool. Seems just like yesterday....

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

day two

I attended three elementary schools. Starting Kindergarten was easy. I had the same teacher my sister had the year before and I knew my mom liked her. I was too young to think about friends. But old enough to learn after the first embarrassing time, that it was not OK to yell from the bathroom in the same sing-song voice I used at home, "Come wipe me!"

First grade was at a new school, almost 2,000 miles away. I remember standing on the playground alone, wondering what I was supposed to do at recess without friends. I know it's hard to imagine it, (especially after that horrible confession in the above paragraph) but I used to be very shy.

I finished my elementary years, 4th-6th at yet another new school, in a new state. By now I knew what to expect on the first day, so I wasn't surprised by the pit in my stomach or the embarrassed loneliness I felt standing alone on the playground with no one to talk to.

Two decades later and I feel like I'm doing it all over again. Nervous and apprehensive for #1 and #2, starting school in a new place. I'm reliving that sinking feeling you get when you feel entirely out of place.

Today was actually their second day and it was almost worse than yesterday. At least yesterday was accompanied by some excitement. Today it seemed like almost pure dread. For me or them?

I know that the kids are where they are supposed to be and things will work out happily for them. We just have to make it through the first few weeks.

A quiet moment in the car on the ride over.

Heading over to the big kid playground. I had to drop #1 off and leave her ALL ALONE while I took Buster over to the Kindergarten playground. I did not like that!

Here is #1 getting in her teacher's line, her nervousness written all over her face.

My Kindergartener! This boy asked to wear his new "Kindergarten shoes" this summer. He was very excited until the moment we stepped into the Kindergarten playground, then he was all business, "Mom we are going to be late!"

Monday, August 2, 2010

Back to School Fashion

We are experiencing the excitement and the expense of having to purchase "school clothes" for the first time. #1 has been at a uniform only school for the past two years and even if it was a little annoying to have to pay for things I didn't necessarily like there were some big advantages:

1) No fuss about what to wear each day. Would you like to wear this light blue polo or this light blue polo? Khaki skirt or khaki shorts? Will you be wearing your long white socks today or the short white socks?

2) Very cheap. We only needed 3-4 identical tops (Friday was college shirt day) and 5 bottoms, 5 socks and one pair of shoes. For the entire year. There was no point in buying #1 clothes that she couldn't wear.

I will not deny that it has been just a little bit fun HAVING to spend money on cute clothes. Sometimes I fantasize about me getting a paying job so I would be forced to buy some nice clothes for myself.

So to commemorate this new experience for our family I have prepared a little treat for you readers: a back to school fashion show! It stars #1 and #2, my two school kids, and a few random shots of #3 who wouldn't be left out of the fun even though she isn't going to school and didn't have any new clothes to model. You may note a few things 1) the movie is short because they don't have very many new clothes and 2) #2 has considerably less face time (and not all of his clothes are new).... Lets face it, it was really about #1 all along.

Enjoy and happy back to school shopping!


Mike Tyson's Victim

I was making my family late to church and late = folding chairs in the back, which I hate. So I sent Spouse on ahead with the promise to follow quickly. When I arrived the meeting was well underway. I slid into our pew and sat down next to #2. He smothered me with kisses as if we've never been separated before. Then he excitedly began to fill me in on everything I'd missed.

"Mom! Look at that man! He has gold teeth. Gold teeth right here! (pointing to his front teeth). And, AND someone bit his ear off! Look!"

A little embarrassed by #2's very loud whispering voice, I did not follow his gaze, but instead gestured for him to hush. But he was insistent.

"Just turn around (trying to push my face around) and look. His ear is eaten! Someone bit his ear off. And he has gold teeth!"

Now I was a lot embarrassed. In my mind I could imagine the poor man, an investigator, sitting with the missionaries, feeling out of place with the gold grill in his mouth and mangled ear, which I assumed was from prison or street violence, here in our well-bred, homogeneous, East Valley ward. And my son, MY son yelling his differences to the entire congregation.

I quieted down #2 and whispered some things in his ear about the Lord loving everyone and wanting everyone to come to church and how pointing is impolite. In my heart I was praying that no one had heard #2's outburst.

The meeting ended and I had forgotten all about the man with gold teeth and bitten ear. A nice looking lady in her 60s leaned across the pew bench from behind us. We are still pretty new in our ward and I assumed she was going to introduce herself or welcome us into the ward.... or ask us not to sit in front of her anymore because my kids were too rowdy. But she didn't speak to me. She looked over at #2 with an understanding smile.

"Did you know that a long time ago they didn't have sunscreen? And when Brother .... was a little boy he used to play in the sun a lot and his little ears got really bad sunburns. So when he was older he got skin cancer and they had to take off part of his ear. I didn't bite his ear, but it looks just like someone did! So when your mommy tells you to put on sunscreen you should always listen."

During this little talk, I turned around to finally see the man with gold teeth and bitten ear, the man I had assumed was an out-of-place-looking investigator. It wasn't. Brother ... was a nice looking older gentlemen, wearing a blue sports coat and a few gold capped teeth near the front of his mouth.

Oh, Toto, we are definitely not on the West Side anymore.