Prize for Posing

Tidings of Great Joy

2011-12-20T20:29:00.000-08:00

Every year at Christmas I worry that my children will hear the racket of the world screaming of consumerism more than they'll hear the subtle stirrings of the spirit. I worry that they won't get it, what Christmas is really about.

But I have some reasons to hope:

1) In her yearly attempt to make sense of Santa #1 deduced, "There really is only one person who loves everyone in the world and who is really watching what we are all saying and doing. There is only one person who wants to give everyone a gift. Heavenly Father must be Santa!"

2) After I became impatient and expressed a few graceless and less than loving expressions, #2 approached me, and without a trace of self-righteousness, sincerely pleaded with me, "But mom, now is the time for good cheer and happiness and love!"

3) #3 asks to read "The Nativity Story" almost every night and is often re-enacting the narrative with toys or drawings she's made. Yesterday I asked her to do it one more time so I could capture it as she tells the story in her own words.

Merry Christmas!

We've got spirit! Yes, we do! The Christmas kind. Do you?

2011-12-03T15:32:00.000-08:00

'Tis the season to be jolly because Baby, it's cold outside and I'm seriously dreaming of a white Christmas.

How Christmassy are you? Take my Christmas quiz to see if you are more of an Ebenezer Scrooge or a Clark Griswold.

Check your answers after each section then leave your final score in the comments. And no Googling, cheaters!

Christmas in the Movies

1. In “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” what does Lucy want for Christmas?

2. Where does “It’s a Wonderful Life,” take place?

3. What is the little boy’s name who stayed home in the movie Home Alone?

4. What was the most likely reason that the Grinch hated Christmas?

5. At the beginning of “It’s a Wonderful Life,” what book is Clarence reading?

1. real estate 2. Bedford Falls 3. Kevin 4. his heart was 2 sizes too small 5. Tom Sawyer

Christmas according to the Bible

1. After Joseph, Mary and Jesus left Bethlehem, they went to what country?

2. What is the translation of Emmanuel?

3. What is the name of the angel that appeared to Mary?

4. What was the name of the old prophetess who saw Jesus in the temple when he was presented to the Lord after his birth?

5. How many wise men come to see the Savior?

1. Egypt 2. God with us 3. Gabriel 4. Anna 5. the Bible never says a number

Christmas in Literature

1. What is Scrooge’s first name?

2. How many ghosts visit Scrooge in the course of “A Christmas Carol”?

3. In “Little Women” who says, “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents” ?

4. In “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” Gladys Herdman pushed her way to the front of the angel choir and shouted these famous words: “Hey! __ __ __ ___ ___ ___!” (6 words)

5. Complete the line from “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” “More rapid than ____ his coursers they came and he ___ and shouted and called them by name.”

1. Ebenezer 2. 4 3. Jo March 4. Unto you a child is born! 5. eagles, whistled

Historical Christmas

1. What river did General Washington cross on December 25, 1776?

2. What Christmas treat is a round or oval candy filled with fruit preserves or cream and covered with chocolate?

3. In which country was eggnog created?

4. In which country did the custom of having and decorating a Christmas tree originate?

5. A copywriter for which major department store in 1939 wrote the first poem about Rudolph, the 9th reindeer?

1. The Delware 2. sugarplums 3. England 4. Germany 5. Montgomery Ward

20-25 correct - You are a serious lover of Christmas, welcome to the club! You are in the ranks with fellow Christmas die-hards, Cindy Lou Who, Ralphie Parker and Santa Claus himself.

10-20 correct - You love Christmas too!

5-10 correct - Don't be ashamed, some of these questions were hard!

>5 correct - Yikes, you're in trouble! Don't be surprised if you get kicked out of Who-ville for your Grinchy ways.

Giblert Days Fun Run

2011-11-26T09:18:00.000-08:00

Two days post-Thanksgiving feasting, (and still feasting!) my body is begging for some exercise and to slow down on the butter. Maybe now is a good time to post about healthier days!

Last month I mentioned to my kids that it was time to register for the Gilbert Days Family Fun Run and asked if they would be interested in participating again this year. The answer was yes!

A week ago yesterday was the big day. All three ran their hearts out and crossed the finish line with big smiles and their chins up.

Here is the Buster, who shaved almost two minutes from his time last year. What a champ! I think next year I'll run the 5K with him and see if I can keep up!

Next in, #3. I ran along side her and expected any minute for her to need a walking break, but it never happened. She plowed through the whole mile barely breaking a sweat. And yes, she most definitely is running in a skirt. What else would you expect from her?

Poor #1 had to learn a lesson on pacing the hard way. She shot out of the starting line at a full sprint and kept sprinting until she was out of breath and needed to walk in order to recover. After that she kept up a nice even pace and came in about 15 seconds after #3. I was so proud of her for persevering and pushing it until the end!

I'm loving our Gilbert Days Family Fun Run tradition. As I tried to convince Spouse to run it with us, he aptly pointed out that we needed him not to run so there was someone on camera duty at the finish line. Hmm. Good point.

Familial visits!

2011-11-18T13:58:00.000-08:00

A week ago I happily hosted my Texas-inhabiting sister, Jess, and her daughter for the weekend. They arrived just in time to help #1 blow out her birthday candles (more on that later).

Although we did walk over to the local bouncy-place and then to ice-cream, we mostly stayed close to home where the kids could ride bikes outside or throw pretend surprise birthday parties inside. Jess and I talked. And talked. And talked.

I think Jess and I could live right next door to each other for the rest of our lives and always have something interesting to talk about.

That's mostly because Jess is a thinking, compassionate soul who notices and analyzes the world and it's people. Plus she's a great listener and just when I think I shouldn't say any more because I've already hogged the conversation too much, she wants to know my opinion about something else.

Photographic evidence:

Saturday we overdressed for #2's football game. By the 2nd half we were all sweating! I thought I'd try to get a good picture of #1 and her cousin, but #3 felt left out and, as you see, I never got that good picture.

#2 LOVES his cousin. He told her so in his sincere, straightforward way.

Not only is she an amazing sister, Jess is also an amazing aunt. She was patient and loving with my children, even though she saw the dark side of them when it was way past their bed times or too early in the morning.

As I mentioned earlier there was a birthday last week.

Quick! Let's play Two Truths and a Lie!

#1 is nine.

#1 is nine.

I'm not getting older.

Happy Birthday to my beautiful, book reading, Lego building, cartoon drawing baby!

Evidence of sweetness

2011-11-13T13:46:00.000-08:00

Life moves at a pretty brisk pace these days. Children included, we are all working hard and focused on what needs to be done.

It's all too easy to let time fly by me without pausing to enjoy the sweetness of this stage of our life.

Last week there were three moments that caused me to stop and smile and taste the sweetness.

1
Sitting with friends at the park #3 overheard me compliment my friend for always being so prepared. My praise included me telling her that she was "the best mom." A moment later, #3 put her face near my ear and whispered, "But I thought you were the best mom."

2
Way past the time I thought she had been asleep, #1 came bursting out of her room, ran into my room and jumped into bed next to me. She has never had an easy time expressing or admitting her feelings and it took her a while to explain that she had just read a sad part in her book (Dobby's death in Harry Potter, part 7) and just needed to be with someone while she felt so sad.

3
Our kids are very protective of their turns. When it was #2's turn to choose the song before evening family prayers, he generously (and unprompted) gave his turn over to his sister, #1 to let her pick.

These are tiny, almost insignificant moments. But added together, if I pay attention, they are the stuff that changes my job from a chore to blessing.

Happy November

2011-11-01T10:00:00.000-07:00

Buster woke up this morning, stumbled into the kitchen and politely demanded turkey for lunch. "I've got ham. Or you can have pizza at school." Nope, only turkey would satisfy my boy. As much as my son loves Halloween candy, I think he loves his Thanksgiving turkey even more.

Before I turn my attention to turkey planning let me share with you some our Halloween joys:

This kitten, who sometimes was sweet and sometimes scary.

Tron. Dumbest movie ever made but my kids inexplicably love it. #1 and #2 decided to be "Tron people" for Halloween. Spouse took on the challenge. It was entertaining to watch his creative genius at work as he cut out and carefully applied the reflective tape to the kid's black clothes. #1 and #2 especially loved their 'identity discs.' As soon as #2 got suited up he immediately started slicing up invisible enemies.

Between our church party, school parties and the actual party of trick or treating, we reached new heights of candy collecting. Our house has never seen so much candy! It's actually kind of disgusting.

I'm with Buster on this one: bring on the turkey!

October's Light

2011-10-27T13:52:00.000-07:00

For my non-Arizona inhabitant readers: You know that wonderful, deep down feeling of joy you experience sometime in the end of May (sometimes in June!) that is inspired by the knowledge that winter is most definitely over? You feel parts of your soul emerge from hibernation. You are happier, calmer; life is more joyful and you notice beautiful things again. The extended, dark and frustrating winter is finally ended.

In Arizona our extended, hot and frustrating summer is finally ended and I feel like I'm coming back to life again. I want to be outside, soak up the sun and take everything in. The flowers are more beautiful and the songs of the birds have never been lovelier.

I was doing dishes last night, my hands warm in the water and my neck cooled by the breeze blowing in from an open window. Through our back window I watched the neighbor's tree sway in the wind and I thought, "My goodness, even the light is more beautiful."

It made me think of an afternoon earlier this month in Logan Canyon when I had the same thought: My goodness, this light is beautiful.

Don't you agree? Isn't October's light the prettiest?

Directions for a perfect fall afternoon

2011-10-23T19:29:00.000-07:00

1) Begin with a hand cart. Watch your smallest child climb in the back while the two older children attempt to pull. Soon the older two will release the handle and the back will drop to the ground and the youngest will land with a thud a roll out. Strangers may come running.

2) Storm the barricades! Or summit the hay fort and be the first to dare to jump.

p.s. It always helps when an uncle says he'll catch you and then he doesn't.

3) Don't worry if the train ride is out of commission for the day. There's always this old farm equipment to pose by.

4) The secret to having fun in a corn maze (with or without kids) is to control the map. Periodically show your children the progress you are making. But really you've gone in about 1/5 of the way, turned around and exited at the entrance. Win/win for everyone!

5) The final requirement for a perfect fall afternoon: getting buried in hay and then bursting out like Frankenstein awakening.

And there you have it! A perfect fall afternoon. Thank you American West Historical Farm.

The birds and the bees

2011-10-04T14:45:00.000-07:00

Last night, after a long and busy day, I was in the girl's bedroom helping #3 into her pajamas when Spouse arrived home from work. I heard the front door shut and then heard #1 and #2 greeting him and making surprised sounds. They followed him as he found me back in the bedroom. He was carrying a lovely bunch of flowers which he handed to me as he bent over to kiss me. It was quite romantic (and thoughtful, given my stressful day) and Spouse must have seemed the perfect hero to his children. They were happy for me and liked seeing Spouse surprise and please me.

In all her joy, #3 exclaimed, "Now you can get married and have a baby!"

Done. And done. That's how all this trouble started in the first place.

Interesting, to say the least

2011-09-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

Have you ever found yourself in "an interesting situation"? One that was never on your radar of possible life experiences?

At about 7:30 Friday night, I found myself thinking, "This is a very interesting situation. I never imagined myself doing this."

What was I doing?

I was standing in neck deep, moving water, unable to get out, waiting and hoping for someone to come along to help me get out. And it was dark - both the water and the night.

A couple hours earlier my family met up with some friends for a bike ride. We rode along the paved path next to the irrigation canal behind our house. The plan was to ride for about a mile and a half down to a park where we would play some bocci and then head home before dark.

Things were rocky right from the start. #2's bike chain fell off. We got moving again, then #1's bike chain fell off. Then #2 fell off his bike. Then #1's bike chain came off again and yet again. The simple bike ride was taking much longer than expected. Did I mention that Spouse drove to meet us at the park? So it was just me, dealing with all these set backs, and getting increasingly more frustrated and embarrassed.

We eventually made it to the park and played a couple rounds of bocci before it got dark and we decided we had better hit the trail for home. Spouse got in the jeep to meet us at home and the rest of us got on our bikes.

Before I continue I feel I must disclose that Buster is a much better bike rider than will appear in my story. He got a new bike for his birthday (in February!) but it's been too big for him and this night was the first time he had ever taken it out. Apparently it is still a bit too big.

At first the entire group was riding together but then Buster crashed on his bike which bent his handles. While I bent them back (again, no Spouse!) the group went on ahead. He hopped back on and within seconds, crashed again! This time in mud. By the time we got going the group was so far ahead of us, they were way out of sight.

Finally we were moving; Buster was gaining momentum and I was feeling grateful that this nightmare of a bike ride would soon be over. Suddenly, without warning, Buster veered sharp to his right and corrected hard to left and went straight into the canal, bike and all.

My first thought was, "You've got to be kidding me."

The canal is about 25 feet wide with steep walls. It flows at a leisurely pace and is full of brown, fish-and-turtle-infested waters. I run on this canal, often, and have seen it's depth vary but have never been sure exactly how deep it is. I've taken my kids for walks along its path and we've had many, many family bike or scooter rides next to it. Although it is big, I've never felt threatened by it and always felt it definitely unlikely that anyone would end up in it. My kids are strong swimmers and I felt assured if they ever fell in they could easily swim to the side.

So to watch one of my children actually plunge into the canal was somewhat shocking and totally unexpected.

I immediately knew the situation was urgent but didn't fully comprehend the threat. I jumped off my bike and ran to the edge shouting, "Swim! Buster, swim!"

But Buster couldn't swim. He kept going under the water. He was panicked and the canal's current was much stronger than I had expected. In my mind I was thinking, "I can't believe I'm going to have to get in there!"

This was all happening very quickly, there really wasn't time to think things through or make a decision. I jumped in and swam to the middle where Buster was coasting in the current. I was quite surprised that in the middle it was too deep for me to touch without submerging my head - which I was NOT going to do.

It wasn't too hard to get Buster over to the side where I could stand in about neck deep water. He was panicked and out of his mind scared. He was screaming for his bike which was at the bottom of the muddy canal. I rested, holding him, while I tried to think how I was going to get him out.

The canal walls are steep and I had totally underestimated how far down the water was from the path. The path was at least two arm lengths above me. The concrete sides of the canal were slimy with moss and there were no hand holds or rocks within reach to grab onto. I knew I was going to have to push him up high in order for him to grab something and pull himself out.

It was difficult because I didn't have a very stable stance. The bottom was muddy and slimy and the canal's current made it hard to stand up right for very long. Between the seriousness of the situation and my son's panicking screams, my body must have produced a lot of adrenaline because I was able to push all 68 pounds of him over my head and hold him there until he transferred enough weight and climbed out.

Getting myself out was a different story. I made several attempts, but it didn't take long to figure out it was impossible. It was surprising to discover how difficult it is to move in water up to my neck - my attempts at jumping were futile. There were no ledges, no hand holds, nothing for me to grab onto. The walls were slimy and steep.

With Buster out of the water, I relaxed considerably. I felt in no immediate danger. Despite the cool water and the disgusting carp swimming around me, I knew I could stay there all night if I needed to. But seeing me neck deep in dark water, unable to get out had Buster in near delirium with panic and worry. It breaks my heart to remember him on that pathway screaming, "Don't die, mom! Keep swimming! Please don't die!"

I got him to sit down and take some breaths. We sang a few songs. Prayed. I explained that we were just going to have to wait until someone came along and could help me out.

It was in the middle of "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam," that I started laughing. That was the moment when I thought, "Never in a million years would I ever have expected to be stuck in a disgusting canal, at night, singing primary songs!" I tried to imagine what I would look like to the first jogger or bike rider that came along. The picture was hysterical.

I don't know how long we waited. While I waited I threw my shoes onto the pathway and felt around with my toes, hoping to locate Buster's bike. I found it, pulled it up and with Buster's help, got it out of the water.

Finally, it seemed like forever but was probably only 7 minutes - the longest 7 minutes in the history of the universe! - I heard bike tires. I called out into the dark, "Uh, hello? I need some help down here!"

Thank goodness it was my friend! They had been waiting and waiting for us and she finally rode back to see if we were OK. She laid down across the dirt and reached down with her arm. I jumped with all my might and caught her hand. She pulled and when I was far enough out, Buster grabbed the other hand and together they heaved my body over the side.

I've never felt more like a beached whale in all my life.

I got up and comforted Buster. His relief was intense. As I mentioned, I really had never felt that I was in any danger, but in Buster's eyes this had been a shocking and terrifying experience. I used my friend's phone to ask Spouse to come pick us up at the next road. As we walked our bikes the quarter mile to the road, Buster talked about what happened and kept repeating, "I'm so glad you didn't die, mom. I'm so glad you kept swimming. I wanted to save you."

After I had stripped out of my disgustingly filthy and stinky clothes, I stood in the hot shower trying to wash every last bit of that canal off me. I started thinking about how many times my kids have ridden ahead of me on that canal path or the times I've ridden in front of them, only turning around every few moments to make sure they are behind me. They could have gone in the canal any of those times and I wouldn't have seen it.

After that night's experience I knew something for certain: if I hadn't been right there when Buster went in, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, he would have died. Even if he had been able to keep his panic at bay and had been able to swim to the side there is no way he could have gotten himself out. Without being able to touch the bottom and stand to rest, he would have quickly gotten tired of treading water.

I have a new respect for that stinkin' canal. And we have new family rules about when we're on the canal path.

That is one interesting situation I hope to never find myself in again!

ps If you can identify in which movie Jimmy Stewart says, in his characteristic voice, "This is an interesting situation!" I'll send you a signed copy of my new book, "What Not to Wear When Biking Along a Canal."

September Firsts

2011-09-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

The past month I haven't felt like blogging for a few reasons:

1) I was too bloated and sweaty from the never ending heat of Arizona summer.

2) I didn't have any inspired thoughts or experiences to share... read: I was lazy.

But I'm here today to make it up to you! Today I offer you a few of the "firsts" of the past month:

First day of Joy School!

#3 started Joy School, a preschool program co-op with 6 (6!!) other little girls mostly from our neighborhood. She tells me that she rides a bus to school and that I'm her bus driver. She is loving the structure and having her own place to go twice a week.

First football game

My Buster is playing flag football and after a month of practicing, (in the insufferable heat!) competed in his first game. His team won! Go Panthers!

First page of Harry Potter 7

As a book-loving mother, can I express my joy at having a book-loving daughter? A few nights ago, long after I thought the children were sleeping, #1 burst into our room, "I did it! I finished it! Whoo hoo!" She was talking about Harry Potter 6. She wanted to start #7 right then, but I convinced her to wait until the next day. Sure enough, the next afternoon when she got home from school she ran straight to her room, got tucked under her blanket and cracked open #7.

P.S. I'm looking forward to a big planting and seeding day on Saturday! Yesterday we bought, 'fertilizer', and grass and garden seeds and then spent an hour spreading the manure over the garden area - it's Buster's favorite job! When I told Spouse about it he simply commented, "So you bought a bunch of crap, huh?"

Matchmaker

2011-08-29T19:43:00.000-07:00

The youth speaker at church yesterday was the picture of loveliness. A confident, beautiful, 16 year old girl, speaking from the heart on being a "guardian of virtue." You couldn't watch and listen to her without feeling joy.

#3 must have felt the spirit radiating from this girl but wasn't quite sure what to make of those good feelings. So she did what any 4 year old would do. Just as the youth speaker said "Amen," #3 said, in an excited and loud voice, "Daddy should marry HER!"

And in case any of you are worried, Spouse has chosen (so far!) to stay with his plump, not so radiant mother of his children.

The Sign Says

2011-08-20T17:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Bugs That Live Around Our House:

I know that it's really hot and muggy outside and you're probably dying for a cool dry place to rest your weary wings and your thousands of eyes. But unfortunately your presence will not be tolerated in our place of residence.

Specifically we do not welcome any:

moths

bees

crickets

ants

and certainly not any flies.

If there are any questions or if you feel unfairly targeted, please contact #3, second bedroom on the right.

Sincerely,

The mom

Back to School Fashion 2011

2011-08-09T19:35:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is the big day. Are we ready?

Or click here to view the movie in higher quality. I recommend you do.

Chapter Five, in which few words are needed

2011-08-08T20:35:00.000-07:00

Would you like to see why I go to Utah for a month every summer? Of course it's good to be there for family activities. But here's the main reason:

Arizona is HOT and Utah is NOT!

We fly north so we can do things like this:

without sweating profusely.

Chapter Four, in which we climb every mountain (or just one)

2011-08-06T14:09:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite hikes in Logan Canyon is the Wind Cave trail. It's not a long or strenuous hike. It's steep, but short. The view at the top is amazing and the caves themselves are fascinating and a little scary.

I can't count how many times I've done this hike. And I think I've hiked it with everyone I ever knew before I was 21.

When I hiked the Wind Caves with my family in July it had been quite a while since I'd hit that path. It was like meeting an old friend after a long separation. Nearly every turn inspired a unique memory. I remembered first dates, friends, my family, emergency situations (of both the funny and scary kind), old family dogs and of course Spouse.

Now my kids are part of my Wind Cave memories too. How #2 and I decided to take a "short-cut" that was more of a "long-cut" and how when he stopped to go to the bathroom we watched a mother deer and her still-spotted baby pass by without their noticing us. And how I drove #1 crazy with all my frantic warnings, "Don't get so close to the edge!" "#1! Stop! You're too close!"

Here is a glimpse of the famous Wind Caves:

That's Brother Brig on the top.

Slowly but surely, she made it to the top! Now, if I can just get her to step away from the ledge!

Just before this picture, Brother Brig had borrowed my camera thinking that I would have a high-zoom lens like his fine art photographer wife and he could get a better view of some creature down below. After a minute of fidgeting with my lens, he handed the camera back to me with a dissatisfied sigh.

#1 down inside the cave.

Me, #1 and #2 from inside the cave

Mom, littlest sister, Brother Brig, #2. Not pictured, Bra and baby S.

Have I hiked the Wind Caves with you?

Chapter Three, Big Toe, in which a wimp equates watching with doing

2011-08-04T12:24:00.000-07:00

For me "living on the edge" means starting a movie at 9:30 pm instead of going to bed. Or painting my nails something other than pink or red. OK, I'll admit it, I'm a wimp. A non-daring, rules following, creature of safe habits. And since I retain a high level of influence in our family's domestic decisions, our family follows behind me on the path to wimpy living.

So when members of our family display daring tendencies it always surprises me. "What?!? You're not a wimp?! We are supposed to be wimps!! Who's child/spouse are you anyway?"

Such a scene unfolded one day in Utah whilst boating with my family. Bra, my brother in law, noticed a rocky ledge at the west end of the lake and inquired about it. In my typical know-it-all way I explained, "That's Big Toe. Sometimes crazy, drunk people jump off of it. But only in years that the water is high. Like this year."

Then Brother Brig piped up, "I've jumped off of it and I wasn't drunk."

You can bet your bottom dollar that within the minute our boat was speeding west towards Big Toe. Brother Brig cut the motor and we watched a few people make the jump. The boat rocked a little as Bra dove off the bow and swam towards Big Toe. Then the boat rocked again and I heard another splash. In the water was Spouse, my Spouse!, swimming towards Big Toe.

Spouse and Bra used the rope dangling from the rock to assist their vertical climb up the cliff then they walked to the jumping point to have a look. Bra took a running start and jumped first. A clean straight legged entrance. 10! Then Spouse sauntered to the edge and cooly stepped off. And just to show who was boss of the cliff he clicked his heels two times in mid-air before plunging into the water.

Honestly, it was fun to watch him jump. I felt just as thrilled and exhilarated watching him jump as I would have doing it myself. So I guess, I too, did a little living on the edge, right? I mean, right?!?

Here they are, the daring cliff jumpers, peering over the edge. Bra is the red one. Spouse is the white one.

Heel click one.

Heel click two.

And....

Splash!

This one (#2) has a permanent exemption from our "family of wimps" status. He's been trying to drive something since he was two.

She's the king (queen) of the world!!

Aaah. wimp + daredevil = true love.

This is Bra and his family (my littlest sister and daughter). You'll remember that Bra is the creator of "Crustless Bread", which incidentally (ahem) can now be purchased on iTunes! Or Amazon!

Chapter Two, in which there is a lot of sand and water

2011-08-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

In our house, the entire kid year revolves around two events, Christmas and Bear Lake. Starting December 26, we look forward to Bear Lake. And whatever date in July marks the end of Bear Lake is the day we begin our Christmas countdown.

As I mentioned in Chapter One, we pretty much do the same things every year: boating, dig in the sand, swim, eat. But it never seems to get old.

Here are some things that made this year different and extra fun:

1) For the first time in a long time Spouse was able to spend the entire week with us. This was a far superior arrangement than the usual situation in which I am solely responsible for our children's health and safety at a huge resort with multiple water hazards. This allowed me to relax more.

2) Our family has reached a new phase in development where 2/3 of our children are mostly independent and responsible. This means more relaxation for me.

3) The lake was unusually full of water, thus the shoreline and beach were significantly closer to our condo. Less walking = more relaxation for me.

So pretty much it was a great week because I got to relax a lot.

I just said relax a lot and now it sounds weird. Relax, relax, relax. Sit back and relax while you view some of my relaxing pictures.

#2, little cousin and #1 out in the tube. #2 was hoping for a bit more exciting ride, but it wasn't happening with these little ladies on board.

#'s 3, 2, and 1 in a dog-pile with some sweet cousins.

Sadly, we were without wind and that is pretty much as high as the kite got that day.

Ahoy matey!

Lean in, I'll let you in on a secret. I actually bought that hat for me. What was I thinking? So much better on #3.

#3 is a slave master at the beach. She gets a vision of the size and scope of the sand castle she wants and then she doesn't let her little cousins rest. She bosses and scolds and surprisingly they all obey her orders. This year in their digging they discovered a live snake!

Chapter One, in which we participate in an extreme sport

2011-08-01T22:21:00.000-07:00

Late in the day on Saturday, after a long, weary day of driving, we entered the Valley of the Sun and were greeted by one of its famous monsoon storms. Lightning flashed, rain came down in sheets, the wind rocked our jeep. By the time we reached our driveway, it was over. It was our welcome home after our annual month-long sabbatical in Utah.

The past couple of days I've felt disoriented (and really sweaty) as I've attempted to wrap my head around reality again. In the past month I've spent a total of 10 minutes on a computer; I haven't kept up on my friend's blogs, I haven't read the news. I barely checked my email. So now it's back to dishes and laundry and trying to find ways to occupy my little ones while it's too hot to go outside.

Maybe going through my 340 pictures will help me make the mental transfer back to real life. Don't worry, I won't dump them all on you. At least not all at once.

I'll just start off with.... Go carting!

We spent the first week of July with Spouse's family in Bear Lake, Utah. Our children love to come to Bear Lake and do the same things every year: dig in the sand, play in the pool, ride in the boat and dig in the sand some more. But this year a new pastime was added to our Bear Lake traditions. Thanks to a spiffy new go-carting track, our kids got to enjoy the high-speed thrill of go-cart racing!

Buster and #1 weren't tall enough to reach their gas pedals, so the attendant propped them up with several big pillows. Even then they could barely reach! #1 was practically horizontal!

Buster with one of his favorite cousins and Grandma J.

Here is #1, with a couple of her awesome cousins, wearing the t-shirt she painted.

Come back tomorrow for more pictures from the land of green and mountains and Aggie Ice-Cream.

How survive a swim meet

2011-06-24T18:39:00.000-07:00

Six weeks into our first experiment with swim team I feel like I've got a lot to share.

There's nothing in the world quite like the strange experience of a swim meet. If you're considering a foray into the aquatics world next summer here are some points to consider:

1) Prepare yourself for pre-meet tantrums. Your children will moan and grumble, "I don't want to go." But you won't try to talk them into going because frankly, it's not really your idea of fun to sit in 112 degree heat, huddling under the tiny patch of shade you were able to shoulder your way into. Somehow your reluctance to convince them to go will persuade them that they really do want to go after all and at the last minute they'll stumble into their suits and goggles and into the car.

2) Don't be embarrassed that your son is wearing shorts that are basically painted on. All the boys are wearing them. It could be worse. It could be a Speedo.

3) There some really, really fast kids. And even though your kids have gotten faster and faster, there are just some incredibly fast kids. It's amazing.

4) Everyone gets a ribbon. But not the same ribbon. Every place, down to the 8th gets a different color. I'm sure you know that blue is 1st, but did you know that 8th is pink? Or that 6th is maroon? These colors will become very important to your children.

5) Especially when he gets a color he doesn't like.

6) You'll forget your camera when they finally get a color they do like.

7) When it's all over go home and wash off the salt deposits left from the rivers of sweat coursing down your bodily ravines. By the time you're clean you'll find that your kids have proudly hung their 7th and 8th place ribbons on the wall, right next to their 2nd and 3rd place ribbons without any hesitation.

Summer induced imagination

2011-06-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

My kids went to Mexico. One morning after their work, #3 started packing her bags and when asked, informed me that she was on her way to Mexico. It wasn't long before our family room was a maze of blankets draped between backs of chairs; pillows, pretend food and stuffed animals were dragged out of bedrooms and play room and used as provisions for their stay in Mexico. The kids crawled under their blanket forts, occasionally emerging to write letters home and slip them under my bedroom door. Later I sent a letter back to Mexico, asking the children to come home soon because their Mama missed them.

It's hard to go to Mexico all day without getting hungry. Fruit snacks and crackers were smuggled into the country. And I'm pretty sure watery tea was served beneath the blankety fortress.

In the late afternoon, when every toy, blanket and pillow in our house were in Mexico I insisted that it was time for the kids to come home. The Great Clean Up began with surprisingly few complaints and mostly helpful kids.

When the house was put back in order and we sat around the dinner table, #3 asked, "After dinner can we go to Mexico again?"

I just love unstructured time in the summer when our children come up with these elaborate schemes. What fun or crazy things have your kids done this summer?

No more school, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks

2011-05-27T09:50:00.000-07:00

The last day of school is a big deal for everyone. But this year it is especially significant for our family because it marks the end of what started off as a tough school year. We had just moved 45 minutes away from everything the children could remember as home. But it might as well have been to a different planet for how different things were.

When school began they hadn't really had a chance to get to know any of our neighbors or church friends. The kids were nervous and felt friend-less and out of place at their new (huge!) school. Can't you see the insecurity written on their faces on that first day?

Now look at them: happy and confident. They met their challenge and came out conquerors! As much as I would have taken their beginning of the year struggles from them, I'm pleased that they had an opportunity to be stretched and grow. They know for themselves now that they can do hard things.

{Let's see if I can get them to remember that when it's time to scrub toilets}

#1 and her 2nd grade teacher

#2 and his Kindergarten teacher

Today is the first day of summer break. We slept in.... until 7. I'm looking forward to having my babies at home. I love their games and forts and dancing. I'm not looking forward to dragging the three of them to Coscto with me today.

Goodbye to a beloved friend (of the mechanical kind)

2011-05-24T17:02:00.000-07:00

Sad, sad news, folks. My beloved red Kitchen Aid mixer finally pumped out its last batch of bread. After eight years of love and toil, I am really missing my dear appliance.

At least I am comforted knowing its in Kitchen Aid heaven (it certainly earned its place). It served its purpose here on earth, teaching me how to make bread, showing me the joy of beating butter and sugar into stiff white peaks without my arm falling off, treating my family to whipped potatoes and whipped cream.

I can't count the batches of cupcakes, bread and other delightful goodies the red mixer produced for us. Wait, maybe I can. Let's see. Oh! Here we are: 1664, roughly.

Goodbye, my special kitchen friend.

As always, working behind the scenes.

By the end of this post you'll be convinced that 4 is the perfect age

2011-05-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

Four years old is a pretty sweet age. Here's why:

1) Even though you're old enough to be potty trained and be independent you're still a little bit of this: ... which is great for mom who still wants a baby to snuggle but no poopy diapers.

2) You're not annoyed when you're woken up prematurely:

3) You're little enough to ride around on one of these...

...even if you're four pounds over the weight limit.

4) You're thrilled to open birthday presents .....

...even if it's just a box of band aids from your brother.

5) When your mom calls a few friends at the last minute and blows up some balloons...

.... you still think its a birthday party.

It's a good thing that four is such a great age because that is as far as this one is going to get. She doesn't know it yet but I've flipped her growing switch to off; she's going to be my precious four year old forever.

Mother's Day

2011-05-09T20:18:00.000-07:00

For me the best parts of mother's day are 1) getting the precious handmade stuff from my kids and 2) Spouse making dinner.

Precious Handmade Stuff From my kids:

{from #2}

My mother is: 34 years old (33. Ok, now you all know.)

Her shoe size is: 22 (minus 12 1/2)

Her favorite food is: nachos (I do enjoy a good nacho... once a year)

Her biggest wish is: to kiss me (Yep, that's all I think about.)

Her best friend is: me (So sweet!)

{from #1}

My mother weighs: 125 pounds (So close! Only off by a pound!)

Her favorite food is: Salad and porridge (Maybe I would be 125 pounds if I ate more salad and porridge.)

Her biggest wish is: to have the world made out of salad. (And I will rule with my deadly salad tongs!)

Spouse Making Dinner:

Oh, yes.

Forget a sharp dressed man, I need me a potato mashin' man.

Isn't this the way God intended things to be? Fathers passing down their gravy stirring skills to their sons?

Look how happy they are in that kitchen! Maybe I should put them in charge every Sunday.

These are the three best kids in the world:

Guess Where I Went

2011-05-05T14:29:00.000-07:00

Alone. Without kids. {I guess that's what alone means.}

It was windy and cold.

Haven't guessed yet? I'll give you a hint. It's the only place I (we) ever go.

You got it! Utah! {or Nutah! as #2 calls it}

To see my little sister enter into marital bliss.

See:

I told you it was windy! This picture makes me laugh. Look at my wings! I know my mom isn't going to be a fan of this picture.

How's this Mom? Better?

Check out my sister's hair. Fan-see! I definitely got the short end of the hair gene in my family. Feathers, that's all I have.

My awesome brother in law, Bra. I didn't come up with that online alias, he did. He got new glasses. Aren't they awesome?

PS. They're fake. But he fooled everyone.

Brother Brig and his wife. Poor Brother Brig, he can't take a decent picture even when he tries. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't try.

Now here are some women who know how to smile for a camera!

sister Cait and Mom

After seeing the "wings" picture I insisted upon a second take, this time behind the wind. Much better, no?

Sisters. Sisters. There were never such devoted sisters.

It's not very often I get to be with my siblings, minus the many children among us. When I got home, #1 wanted to know everything we talked about. I told her the few uplifting stories that were shared then I had to censor the rest because we had stayed up way too late, and laughed way too hard to produce content appropriate for my 8 year old. Happy times.

I'm pleased to report that although I was missed much at home, Spouse took exceptional care of our children. He even managed to iron the pile of shirts that had been lurking on the ironing board for a week. Hooray for Spouse!

Too good not to share

2011-04-26T21:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight #2 prayed, "That the salami won't get the people in Japan."

I love that toothless boy.

It was "crazy day" at school

My newest vice

2011-04-25T13:35:00.000-07:00

Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. I thought I was biting into a peanut M&M, because that's what it looks like. But instead of waxy chocolate and a nut, my taste buds were most pleasantly surprised by smooth, creamy, Reese's peanut buttery goodness. I ate another. And another.

I love you Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. Even though you are going to make me fat. (Fatter).

You may have overtaken Peeps as my number one favorite Easter treat.

In no particular order, the details of my life

2011-04-13T20:32:00.000-07:00

Joe and Spot have gone onto greener pastures. Or maybe it's bluer waters? #1 took it hard. She was especially disgusted by the funeral arrangements I insisted on. I should have been more sensitive about the deep attachment #1 must have made with those fish in the 6 long days they were with us. They were practically family!

I accidentally killed about twenty of my precious tomatoes. Now this is a real reason to mourn! I was trying to turn a branch back so it would grow under the wire cone and SNAP! In shock I looked down at the severed branch and started counting all the tomatoes....19. All 19 cherry tomato lives flashed before my eyes. I could taste their sweetness and feel the fresh burst of juice as I bit into them. Their whole future, gone in a careless instant! Curses.

On the way to the bus stop this morning #3 asked Jimmy to hold her hand. He looked back at me and I nodded so he sweetly took her hand and they walked the rest of the way to the bus stop hand in hand. She didn't stop talking to him even as he waved to his own daughter getting on the bus. He laughed at all the right spots and encouraged her by asking her more questions. On our way back home, after an exaggerated farewell to Jimmy, #3 gave a big sigh and said contentedly, "Jimmy keeps getting gooder and gooder."

On the way home from baseball practice yesterday #2 pronounced, "Girls don't go to college. College is only for boys."

"Well, that's not true #2," I answered. "Lots of girls go to college. There's a girl in this car who went to college. That's right, it's me. And your Grandma J went to college and your Nana went to college. Dr. Stevenson who you saw today went to college. We are all girls and we all went to college."

It was too much for #1. She had to get in on this. In her best, I-know-more-than-you-do voice she explained to #2, "You have to go to college to get a job."

My turn, "Well, not exactly. There are lots of jobs you can do without going to college. But most jobs you would be interested doing require you to go to at least some college. For some jobs you have to go to lots and lots of college. Can you guess which jobs require the most college?"

#1 rolled her eyes like I had asked the dumbest question in the world. And just to show how smart she is she clicked these answers out in her best expert voice:

a teacher
a pilot
a lifeguard

So glad she's got it all figured out.

All the Little Live Things - my desert garden update

2011-04-04T20:47:00.000-07:00

Do you remember my fall garden? How much basil it produced? Well, I'm at it again. My second attempt to coax life out of our acidic desert soil. I planted more basil and green onions and I'm trying cucumbers and tomatoes for the first time.

Here are the beginnings of my very first tomatoes!! Aren't they beautiful? They'll be even more beautiful when they're big and red and chopped up into salsa. Or tomato sauce. Or sliced onto my pizza.... I can't wait!

I'm also growing this girl. She is almost as excited for our "potatoes" as I am! She has been my little garden pal. Helping me water and always begging to plant more seeds. Today I acquiesced and let her dump a packet of zinnnias around the corner of our plot. (I hear they do well here?)

Another thing growing is this lovely girl:

A few days ago she made reference to the bible story of the "minnows mite" and how even though she only had a little to give it was more than the rich priests.

Then on Friday night she won a goldfish at the school carnival. She was so excited I didn't have the heart to burst her bubble, because there was no way we were bringing that fish home. We are a pet free home! I whispered as much to Spouse. "We've got to get rid of this thing before we leave tonight."

I left the family to retrieve the jeep which I had had to park a few blocks away. When I pulled up to the pick up curb you can imagine my horror at finding #1 carrying not one goldfish bag, but TWO goldfish bags.

As she climbed into the jeep she chattered excitedly about the nice lady who told Daddy to take her son's fish because there was no way she was bringing home.

And that is how our family acquired our first pet(s). {Unless you count the cricket we captured and held hostage for a week before it almost died and I let it go while the kids were at school because I felt bad for it.}

Meet Joe and Spot.

Fish food is horrible. It smells like dead bodies.

Here is something else growing at our house.

The above picture was taken Friday. The below picture was taken this afternoon. Can you spot the difference?

Yup. He is changing too fast.

Shamrock Farms

2011-03-23T19:04:00.000-07:00

Shamrock Farms is everything a dairy farm should be: clean, fun for kids, and open for public tours. I mean, whoever has a dairy farm and doesn't design it with a giant tub of cottage cheese with a slide inside is just crazy. You know that dairy farm you just heard about that went out of business? It was because they didn't have a black and white spotted tram. Shamrock Farms has a tram. And that's why they are still in business.

If you never thought that learning about cows and milk and stuff was fun, then you need to go to Shamrock Farms. Did you know that ultra-pasteurized milk can stay fresh for up to 90 days? Did you know that a cow has four stomachs? Did you know... well, I'd better not tell you anymore. I don't want to ruin your trip to Shamrock Farms.

Besides all this fun stuff you see in my pictures, there are actual cows at Shamrock Farms. We all got to put on gloves to feed and pet some baby cows.

The best part of Shamrock Farms is that after your informative and fun tour, you get to buy fresh ice cream. It isn't an option not to buy the ice cream because after everything you've learned about cows and milk and stuff you are temporarily convinced that anything with milk in is the most healthy, nourishing thing in the world! And besides, you've got three kids with you and they aren't going anywhere without their Shamrock Farms ice-cream cones. Good thing they're only $1.50.

If you can time it right, it is really special to go to Shamrock Farms on March 17th, St. Patrick's Day! Because, you know, St. Patrick's day is all about shamrocks and stuff. And then you are at Shamrock Farms on a day all about shamrocks. The significance of March 17th does not go unnoticed at Shamrock Farms, oh no! All the employees are dressed like Leprechauns and they give away green foiled chocolate coins and free mint chocolate chip ice-cream. Your kids will think you are a really fun mom for planning something so awesome for St. Patrick's day, even if you didn't realize it when you booked the tour.

If the farm tour doesn't satisfy you, don't complain to me. It's not my fault that you hate cows and milk. If for no other reason you should go to Shamrock Farms so your 8 year old can make smart observations like, "That would be so weird to live with your friends and not your family." And ask you pointed questions like, "Do cows have periods?"

See? You've got nothing to lose. See ya at the farm!

#2 getting his finger "milked"

someone needs to teach #1 how to properly wear sunglasses

Rollin' by the River

2011-03-20T17:22:00.000-07:00

This week we celebrated Spring with a break. One day we talked some friends into visiting the river called Salt. Actually it's fresh water and I'm unclear why it's known as the Salt River. The river's current is presently low, leaving plenty of rocky banks to explore and shallow depths for the smallest of friends to safely wade into.

A picnic lunch was packed, sunscreen applied and a morning of fun was had by all. A blue-clawed crawdad may or may not have been caught by a member of our party. At least one of the children unintentionally submerged himself multiple times. If you guessed that it was Buster, you are correct.

#1 made sure to bring her camera. It was our first digital camera, heavy as a brick and the memory card holds a whopping 65 images.

Here are some of the images I found when I uploaded her memory card (along with about 20 pictures from almost 2 years ago):

"What's your 10-4 good buddy? Over and out."

The classic picture-of-yourself-taking-a-picture theme, dirty side-view mirror style.

(This is not Buster, in case you were wondering)

Hold onto your seats. More spring break updates to come....

Beware the Ides of March; or in this case, Celebrate!

2011-03-11T09:01:00.001-08:00

Something spooky is going on around here. I suspect the handiwork of a leprechaun or the ominous closeness of the Ides of March.

#3 is not a Mama's girl. She loves playing with friends and her siblings. But when she is without company she has always seemed to have zero desire to entertain herself. She becomes stuck to me like white on rice. If I'm cooking, she is sitting on the counter with me. If I'm reading, she's in my lap. If I'm on the computer she is trying to hold my hand. If she's playing Barbies, she does it sitting in my lap. When she wants to color, she wants my hand on the top of her crayon holding hand.

It is very sweet. But also can be annoying. It's a good thing she's my daughter and I love her. And it certainly helps that she's adorable.

But I'm not used to this sort of dependence. #1 and #2 are and have always been excellent independent players. I've been frustrated trying to foster independent play in #3.

Before the earthquake hit Japan (poor Japan :( ) the seizmic shifts rocked our little domestic boat. Something new and strange: #3 played independently, without guidance, without suggestion, without me all day! From time to time she asked for a drink or for help getting something down but then she'd shoo me from her room. All day.

It was a wonderful, happy day. For everyone. Thank you Leprechauns. Thank you Julius Caesar for being murdered on the Ides of March, allowing the day to be forever haunted and make strange things happen in my house.

ps Despite my flippant reference to the tragedy in Japan I am truly despairing for the loss and havoc the Japanese are experiencing.

5-127

2011-03-08T11:59:00.000-08:00

Isn't there a universal blogging rule that says something like, "When a Blogger has nothing to write about, it is acceptable to post random pictures of said Blogger's children for no particular reason."? Rule 5-127, International Rules of Blogging, to be specific.

I hereby invoke rule 5-127.

Exhibit A) Showing how difficult it is to get three beautiful, yet camera-adverse children to pose acceptably for a Sunday-best picture.

Exhibit B) Demonstrating how quickly a cowboy hat and Webkinz snake used as a boa are shed when a camera has been spotted. Just seconds before this one was snapped, #1 was wearing that exact costume while giving her Family Home Evening lesson on John the Baptist.

Exhibit C) Showing that above all, we strive to teach our children how to dine in style. Even if the goblet is plastic and the food is fake.

Next time, we'll be back with our usual earth-shattering, mind-quaking level of blogging.

Maybe.

Crustless Bread

2011-02-24T12:15:00.000-08:00

A few years ago my littlest sister married a free-spirited, bright and independent musician. Now he's working his way into Dental school, supporting a daughter and is maybe a little more care-worn than he was in those easy-going days of their courtship. But what I love about my bro-in-law is that he hasn't let all his dreams die as they sometimes do when reality kicks in.

For his birthday this year he recorded one of his songs. My little sister sang back-up.

I wanted to share the song with you. But Blogger wouldn't let me insert a lone .wav file. The only way I could figure out how to add the song to my blog was through a quick time movie file. But imovie wouldn't let me make a movie with just a song and no images so I randomly started adding photos.

After a while I realized I was adding pictures of Spouse. And then I started thinking about Spouse. How he used to have lots of dreams too. Some of them we've made happen (architecture!) (babies!) (me!), but some of them he has silently left behind as reality has kicked in.

We've been married 12 years. I've known him since he was 15. We've been though a lot. Mostly happy times.

As I watched this little movie I made, I noticed that my pictures of him pretty much tell the story of Spouse. He is funny. He works hard. He is a great dad. He is my best friend. He's smart. He draws and thinks and sketches. He prays. He takes us to church every Sunday. He calls me from work. He is happy for me when I get away from the house and kids for a while. He solves problems. He doesn't seem to notice all my faults. Or my wrinkles.

Enjoy the movie and the song. Let's give it up for my bro-in-law and for Spouse! Let's give it up for the men who leave some dreams behind.

What dreams have you or your spouse left behind?

Great American Hero

2011-02-08T11:30:00.001-08:00

#1's big 2nd grade Social Studies project is called "Great Americans." It involves a month of reading and writing about the chosen great American and it culminates with a big poster and presentation in March. It's a big deal. Apparently there was an approved list of great Americans the student could choose from, which included names like Ben Franklin, Martin Luther King, Obama and ... J. K. Rowling. Which is exactly who #1 chose.

She was so excited to study J.K. Rowling, I hated bursting her bubble. "J.K. Rowling is awesome, but she's actually not American."

"Huh? She's not? No, I guess she's not, huh? Why was she on the great Americans list?"

I didn't have an answer for her. But we did talk about other possibilities for who #1 could study.

"All the good ones are taken, " she sighed. "I really wanted to do J.K. Rowling. Maybe I could do a different writer?"

Yes! #1 is my daughter! I immediately envisioned us reading Little Women together or pouring over William Carlos Williams poems late into the night.

"Sure! There's Wallace Stegner or Willa Cather. Those are great American writers. This will be so fun!!! I can help you research them and I know a really good book about..."

"Judy Blume. I want to do Judy Blume."

"Wha?"

"Yea, Judy Blume. You know, Superfudge?"

Trying to recover from fleeting euphoric hope, now dashed, I said, "Ok. Sure I'm sure she will be a fun American writer to study."

I emailed her teacher and although Judy Blume was not on the approved list of great Americans, he would allow it since the J.K. Rowling thing was his fault in the first place.

So last night, armed with the Judy Blume biography she found in her school library, #1 started her writing homework. Write ten interesting facts about your great American.

#1 had already covered the basics. Where and when she was born... #1 still needed about 8 facts, so I picked up her biography and started scanning the pages.

About halfway through the book, I looked at #1, suppressing my alarm. "So did you read this book?"

"Yep."

"The whole thing?"

"Yep."

"Did you understand everything?"

"I think so."

"Do you understand what this word means? Or this word?" Pointing to the words, menstruate and sexuality.

"Not really."

Did you know that some of Judy Blume's books were banned from school libraries because of their sexual content?

Yup.

It's going to be a long month.

How to turn 6 in style

2011-02-02T13:28:00.000-08:00

Last week on this very day, the children and I rode our bikes to a nearby park to meet up with some friends. It was an "early release" day at school, so the park was crawling with wildly happy kids. #2 and I started throwing the football back and forth and it wasn't long before all the boys in the vicinity gravitated to us and wanted in on the football action.

This is exactly the type of situation #2 thrives in. Lots of boys, lots of energy, new friends and some sort of ball. It was #2's idea to take it to the next level. "Hey! Come and wrestle me!" He caught a ball and took off running, shrieking with laughter.

The boys were tackling each other now and loving it. They were rolling in dirt and grass, wrestling the ball away from each other, laughing.

I think you know where this is going.

Straight to the orthopedist.

The Doctor asked, "What happened buddy?"

"Playing football and I got my finger stepped on."

"How old are you?"

"Five."

Looking over his glasses, he scanned #2 up and down, sizing him up, "How have you not been in here yet?"

#2 is a big, active boy who likes to play hard (and is often clumsy). It's a miracle he's kept his bones intact for five whole years.

As if a broken bone weren't enough action for this boy, here is another milestone #2 crossed this past week:

Ripped the bloody tooth from his gums with one hand. The other had pushing me away, not wanting any help.

If you looked up the definition of "six year old boy" in the dictionary here is the picture you'll find:

Happy Birthday Buster!

Weekend Welcome

2011-01-20T19:59:00.000-08:00

I'm looking forward to the weekend tomorrow, starting at precisely 3:25 pm. Nothing extraordinary planned. Maybe just some Harry Potter reading, a few bike rides and some tennis with #1.

Here are some pictures from last weekend's excursion to the Salt River.

In the spring this rock is nearly covered by water.

"Just be careful and don't get your feet wet!" I yelled from the side.

#3 loves this picture. Perhaps it's her authoritative pose with her arms folded and hip cocked out. And she is towering above her brother and sister. Yep, I'm pretty sure that's why she likes it.

Playing in the cat-tail skeletons. The kids burrowed tunnels and made "homes." This kept them busy for at least an hour. Spouse and I lounged in the warm sun. One of us was reading a Harry Potter book.

"Don't step in the water! Don't..."

Doh!
Two wet sneakers.

family updates and stuff

2011-01-18T10:20:00.000-08:00

Between December 22 and now Spouse has worked a total of 5 days. Most of that time off was planned vacation time. What we didn't plan on was pneumonia visiting our house and attacking our breadwinner. I am happy to report that although his violent coughing keeps me up at night, the worst is over and he is back at work.

After #1 and #2 left for school the house seemed very quiet and empty and I realized how much I had enjoyed having Spouse at home (even though he was too sick to be any fun).

Now Spouse has contracted a different kind of bug. The Harry Potter bug! The past couple of months I've been enjoying the Harry Potter series for the first time and now it looks like Spouse is addicted too!

The good thing about reading these books 10 years behind schedule is that I can just read them one after another without having to wait a year between publications. The bad part is that I feel like I came to the party after the pinata has already been cracked; the cultural excitement has all but died out.

I've been doing an OK job at my new year's focus (feeling joy). A few days ago I caught myself imagining what it would be like to live in a bigger house. So I decided to try to think how my tiny house is a joy to me.

1) There is a lot less to keep clean.

2) When I tell people I vacuum twice a day, it sounds really impressive. (But it's not. Read: the house is tiny)

3) Everything I need is always within a few paces away. It makes collecting and distributing laundry a cinch.

4) I have enough furniture to fill it.

5) I am forced to keep things organized.

6) Because I know that anything I buy I have to find a place for, I buy less.

See? Not so bad, huh? I bet you're all wishing for a small house now.

Hmmm. What else can I add to this most random post of mine? A picture? Ok, you got it.

JLJ 2.011 (and a late and short Christmas re-cap)

2011-01-06T13:04:00.000-08:00

I'm not making a list of resolutions for this year. There is just one. Joy. This year I'm focusing on feeling joy, thinking positively and smiling and laughing more, even if it gives me more wrinkles. I'm not talking about pleasure. Hopefully, I'll have some in 2011. But I'm talking about a shift in attitude, a change in the way I internalize my life.

I've never been a fan of the glass-half-full-or-half-empty model. I'm too practical. If it's less than 50% full it is half empty and no positive attitude is going to change that fact. It's senseless to me to try to see things differently than what they really are.

I guess I'm concerned with what I do with (or how I feel about) whatever is in my glass. And this year (and hope for the rest of my life) I am going to choose to not just accept the fullness of my glass, but find joy in it.

And I'm really, really hoping that regardless of it's fullness that glass has Diet Coke in it.

Now for the late and short Christmas re-cap

Little angel, #3 dressed for her part in the Christmas Eve nativity pageant. Oh and just to inform you so the rest of my pictures make sense: We broke with our stay at home in AZ for Christmas resolution and drove (with a VERY large roof bag) to Northern Utah to be with family. And although we got plenty of snow while we were there, we drove on clear, safe roads :)

Buster sitting on Santa's lap at Grandma's Christmas Eve party. Isn't he a wonderful Santa? You can't tell very well in this picture, but his suit was gorgeous and his black boots were shiny with real reindeer spurs.

#1 and #3 on Christmas morning at Nana at Papa's house. We shared Nana and Papa with 5 other cousins. What could have been a chaotic morning was actually relatively tame and very, very fun.

Aaah, the Christmas afterglow.

And now, my gift to you:

Happy New Year! What are you resolving this year?

Christmas Scenes

2010-12-17T12:36:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon #3 and I were roaming the aisles of Target as I slyly added things to my basket, hoping #3 didn't notice. Christmas was definitely on her mind as evidenced by her singing, unabashedly at the top of her lungs, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer."

#3 has her own lyrics that go something like this:

...how bout the other reindeer? used to laugh and call him names
.... then one froggy Christmas Eve
... if you ever saw it you would even say it globed

...over and over again. She doesn't quite know the order of the lines or exactly how to end the song.

So there we were in Target. We turned down one crowded, wider aisle and suddenly, like one of those 'spontaneous' musicals you see on You-Tube, a random lady who had been earnestly searching the boys pajama rack, whipped around and joined in singing the chorus of "Rudolph." Within seconds a few more shoppers who had apparently overheared #3's singing quickly joined in the song. Surprisingly, #3 wasn't embarrassed by the attention but encouraged by it. She sang louder and with bodily animation (all while sitting in the front of the cart). People stopped shopping and turned to watch the impromptu show. When the song ended, the on-lookers clapped and laughed. A few people across the way yelled, "That's the Christmas spirit!" and "She's a performer!" Then a lady approached us. She had tears and a smile on her face. "I can't tell you how happy that made me."

The crowd dispersed, but the fullness in my heart didn't for quite some time. I kept thinking about all the things that divide us (the people on my street or in my town or in my state or in my country or in the world). There are so many differences, so much that make us enemies. Sometimes these things get me down and I wonder how we, the collective people on earth, are going to pull through.

I guess that's why I was moved by what happened at Target. There was nothing unifying us but a three year old singing (and our love for cheap-chic only found at Target). And for a few moments, total strangers shared something special and joyful.

I don't know what the answers are, but I know they have something to do with children, hope, love, joy.... and Target.

More scenes of Christmas at our house

Deep thoughts and #1's baptism

2010-12-07T20:10:00.000-08:00

Tonight after the other kids were asleep I found #1 in her dark room, huddled over her scriptures with a flashlight. "Mom, can you read this to me?" She was reading Song of Solomon from the new Bible she received at her baptism.

"Uh, wouldn't you like me to read you something else?" (Have you ever read Song of Solomon? Not exactly eight year old material.)

"I think you and Dad are the tooth fairy."

"Uh, what?!? What made you think about that tonight?"

"Well I was thinking about how I don't believe in magic. Like it's impossible for reindeer to fly. Maybe there are birds holding up the reindeer. Why can't birds pull Santa's sleigh? They fly? How can anyone know? I mean, maybe Santa's suit is green? Maybe everything we know about Santa is wrong!"

"You're right. No one really knows anything about Santa. How about we read your scriptures now. Would you like me to read to you about Jesus' birth?"

So we read Luke 2 and when it was over she hugged me and pulled my face close for a kiss. "Thanks for reading that to me mom."

That pretty much says everything about my intellectual and analytical yet believing and faithful firstborn.

She was baptized by her own choice in the Logan Tabernacle on a very cold day in November. She felt sheepish in the white jumpsuit, as did Spouse. But she earnestly listened to the talks on baptism and the Holy Ghost. She was moved by the special music arranged by my sister. And when it came time to go under the water she didn't just go under, she jumped up and went under.

While I helped #1 into her beautiful baptism dress and braided her wet hair, the men in the chapel were anxiously occupied in striving to drain the font.

#1 was truly radiant as she sat to be confirmed and receive the Holy Ghost.

When the baptism was over, people were hungry and it was time to party. My dear father in law treated the entire group to a real fiesta at our favorite mexican joint.

It was a happy, happy day for our family.

Fiesta time!

If you are in any of the photographs below: Thank you for coming and sharing our special day with us!

The best laid plans always fail

2010-12-01T17:20:00.000-08:00

The plan was to wake up early Sunday morning (4:45 for me) and be pulling out of our driveway by 6:00 am. I had made sack lunches for everyone so we could avoid wasting time (and money) stopping for lunch. The plan was to be in Cache Valley around dinner time, eating a delicious meal my mother would have warm and waiting for us.

The plan was to make this miserable drive as quick as possible.

Nothing went according to plan. Except for me waking up at 4:45 and having lunches ready for everyone. We left our house at 6:50, a little late, but still OK.

It was snowing and blowing hard when we arrived in Flagstaff, but confident and safe in our 4 wheel drive Jeep, we hadn't lost any time.

I passed out our lunches somewhere between Paige and Kanab, feeling good about keeping on the road and not using precious daylight waiting in line at Wendy's.

In Kanab Spouse took over behind the wheel and we immediately drove into the wicked winter storm of the west. There was no warning. Cloudy but dry skies suddenly turned dark and snowy. The snow was piling up fast and there was nary a snow plow on the road.

If we had been the only car traveling that highway we would have been fine, but unfortunately there were about 8,000 semi trucks on that road that had also been caught in the sudden storm and they weren't doing so well. Every corner we turned there was another one stuck on a hill, pulled onto the side of the road or even worse, crashed into the mountain side. We were lucky to break 12 mph.

On one very steep and windy stretch we came upon a semi truck that must have hit some ice and had skidded perpendicular across the highway, blocking all lanes of traffic. We waited on that hill for quite some time before police came and attempted to direct the truck driver to back down that icy, snowy, hill with twenty cars sitting in it's path, all vulnerable to the danger.

When we finally arrived in Panguitch we were relieved and felt confident that now we would definitely make good time . Thirty minutes later we were on I 15 going 75 mph, and it felt like we were definitely moving again. But oh no! What's this? Brake lights ahead? No!

Yes. We came to a stop and shifted into park. There we stayed for the next four hours of lives. The snow built up around us. We watched a few movies, drank all of our water and ate all of our snacks. The kids went crazy, "We want to play in the snow!" We listened to Christmas music. We talked on the phone. We tried to find out what the heck was going on but according to the Utah Highway patrol, the road was dry and there was no traffic.

Good thing I had woken up at 4:45. Good thing I had saved us all that time with our packed lunches.

Night fell and the snow kept piling up. We were feeling desperate. How much longer could this go on? There were certain people in our car that needed to use the facilities. There were certain people in our car that couldn't wait any longer and was desperate enough to go outside behind a blanket that Spouse held up. And it may or may not have been the very moment that traffic started moving. Four hours of stand still, and this, this was the moment cars started to move.

Spouse was a champion and continued driving the remainder of the trip. This was a good thing because I kept dozing off even though I had promised Spouse to stay awake and keep him company. Every now and then I would snap out of my daze and yell in turrets-like fashion, "Are you awake?" or "You doing OK?"

In our delirium, Spouse coined a new word for the weather conditions we were driving in, an equal mix of snow and fog: fnow or snog. It doesn't sound very funny now, but at midnight in our manic state we were rolling (not literally) with laughter.

We arrived at my mother's house, freezing but thankfully in one piece, at 1:00 am. In the last 8 1/2 years we have made the drive from Phoenix to Cache Valley many, many times. But the time we drove to Utah for Thanksgiving in 2010 will undoubtedly go down in history as the worst drive, in the whole world and the entire universe.

(thank goodness it was balanced by the best time we had that week. more on that. stay tuned)

Gilbert Days Fun Run

2010-11-29T13:47:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I saw an advertisement for the Gilbert Days Fun Run and thought, "I don't want to run this." Then I saw they had a one mile race and thought, "I'm making my kids do this." Or maybe it was more like, "What a great opportunity to teach my kids about fitness and working towards a goal. They've seen me run a lot of races, maybe they would find it fun to run in one themselves."

#1 and #2 were both excited when I told them about the race. I warned them that after I paid the registration money there was no turning back, they had to commit to training and then trying their best in the race. They agreed.

The intensive training period lasted three weeks. A few times a week we ran distances on the canal trail behind our house. We practiced jogging rather than trying to sprint the entire way. We talked about how we weren't running to win, just running to do our best.

I was nervous that our training would become something mean mom was making them do, but for the most part they were eager to do "race practice."

We picked up their race packets a few days before the race. They tried on their t-shirts and were impressed with their real racing bib numbers.

It wasn't until we were driving to the park where the race was held that #1 noticed I wasn't wearing running clothes. "Aren't you running with us mom?" Nope, they didn't need me. They were ready.

Here are the pictures from the race:

Heading over to the starting line

Lined up and ready to run. Some people tie their shoes when they are nervous, others pick their noses.

That's #2 right in the middle of the picture. This is about the 1/4 mile mark. Final time: 10:20

Go #2! She's nearing the finish line. Final time: 11:05

I was so proud of these kids! But more importantly they were proud of themselves. I think they felt like rockstars at the after-race party. People were handing them Jamba Juices and Chic Fil A, and goodie bags full of fun stuff.

Are you wondering why I didn't run?

Not pregnant if that's what you're thinking.

I was just trying to store all my fat for Thanksgiving the next week.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-24T09:02:00.000-08:00

I am writing this in my parent's warm attic, the snow is piled up outside and it is very, very cold. Yesterday the town was buzzing with talk about the storm to end all storms that was to hit last night. School was cancelled, businesses closed. The radio was instructing people to find their flashlights, blankets and to stay huddled in one room to keep warm in case the power went out.

We have Christmas music playing (my mom's new Celtic Woman Christmas album) and serious baking is underway. I am still in my pajamas and just loving being home for Thanksgiving.

Besides turkey tomorrow I am also looking forward to Saturday when we will baptize #1. I keep waking up at night with panicky thoughts. Have we prepared her well enough? Is there anything we forgot? Commandments? Check (I think). Laws and Ordinances of the gospel? Check (I think). Testimony and faith in Jesus Christ? Check (I think).

Have you heard about the adventure we had driving up here? Eightteen hours. Eightteen hours! Through blizzards and over ice and through scary, unplowed snowy canyons. Yikes! We are grateful to be here, alive.

I am grateful for a lot. God has blessed me and my family in many ways, large and small.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Big milestone; firstborn turns 8!

2010-11-10T18:55:00.000-08:00

Warning: don't watch on full screen. Blogger was really stingy with allowable MB and the movie had to be seriously condensed.

Can there be too much?

2010-11-08T13:49:00.000-08:00

Basil?

No, I say there cannot.

The world is short exactly 200 million gallons of pesto.

Me and my little desert garden are doing our best to keep the world pesto production moving forward.

Let's do the math.

I have 10 basil plants.

Each plant will produce around 12 cups of basil leaves.

10 x 12 = lots of pesto

lots of pest0 = Merry Christmas to me!

Now, if only I could plant one of those money trees.....

Halloween Write Up

2010-11-03T15:59:00.000-07:00

Jack and Sally Pumpkins

We had Cleopatra, (wingless) Tinkerbell and Anakin. Did you know Cleopatra murdered some of her siblings? Not my Cleopatra, the real one.

Unlike last year, where she cowered and clung to my leg all night, Tinkerbell thoroughly enjoyed all the Halloween festivities. She got into the Halloween spirit this year. She memorized and loved to sing "5 Little Pumpkins" and even arranged her own Halloween version of "Happy Family." It went something like this:

I scare Ghostey, he scares me.
We scare Pumpkin, yes siree.
He scares us and so you see,
We are a scary Halloween!

Pretty clever, huh?

Halloween falling on a Sunday really messed things up for Anakin. He has never been too good with chronology or time references. So when Halloween came and went without any real trick or treating, he was very disoriented. For several days after Halloween passed, he still was asking me in the morning, "Today we are going trick or treating?" Poor kid.

I was quite surprised when Cleopatra brought home a note from school stating that her class was going to have a Halloween party. Not a fall festival. Not a pumpkin party. There was no permission slip or alternate activity. Just a good, ole fashioned REAL Halloween party. They got to wear costumes and everything! It was great and Cleopatra was very beautiful.

Unlike the other kids who were a little sad to take down the Halloween decorations, she was rather stoic about it. When I asked her why she didn't care, she just shrugged her shoulders, "Eh, my birthday is in like 9 days and that's better than Halloween anyway." That's my practical girl!

Anakin's classroom Halloween party included cookie decorating.

Out of the mouth of this babe

2010-10-27T19:26:00.000-07:00

#3 is so three years old. Her wise cracks have been bringing a smile to my face this week. There has been lots of talk of ghostesses, vampirates and scary mommies.

Jack and the Bean Stalk is her current book of choice before nap/quiet time. She loves the suspense while Jack is hiding in the Giant's oven. I wish I could record her little voice doing the fee fi fo fum part. In her best grumpy voice she says, "Fee fi fo fum! I smell the blood of an Englishmuffin!"

And yesterday, out of the blue, instead of her typical, "I'm not beautiful, I'm #3," response, she came up with this doozey, "I'm not cute, I'm Wallister Jenny." And she stuck with it too. All day she insisted she was Wallister Jenny. Do you know who Wallister Jenny is? I don't.

#3 is a social butterfly. When I take her out with me she is constantly meeting people by asking them frank questions like, What is your name? What are you doing? She mostly meets with friendly responses and people seem pleased to exchange pleasantries with such a little one.

Yesterday we had a close encounter with awkwardness when #3 asked the older man behind us in line at the pharmacy what was wrong with his nose, why did he have bloody on his nose? He had apparently just had some skin cancer removed and his nose was covered in fresh scabs. Fortunately, he was delighted to make conversation with her and he refused my apologies for her forwardness.

And today there was a real encounter with awkwardness.

#3 makes daily observations to the other adults at our bus stop. We are all very friendly by now. But after three months of seeing the same gentleman every single day today she happened to notice that he is black.

"Jimmy, you have earrings? Why do you have earrings? You're not a girl!"

Me: Some boys wear earrings too. Jimmy is wearing boy earrings.

"Oh! I like those boy earrings, Jimmy. I want those earrings too. Hey! You're black!"

Jimmy: Yes I am.

Examining herself, "But I'm white!"

Jimmy: That's ok. White and black. Everyone likes diamond earrings.

me (not knowing what the heck to say): I like diamond earrings.

Why was this awkward? I don't know. It just was.

Have your kids ever put you in an uneasy situation?

Your opnion matters

2010-10-26T13:58:00.000-07:00

Thank heaven for 2nd grade writing assignments. Without them I may not know #1's true feelings for her brother. She actually loves him! See here:

Dear #2,

Your are a awsame brother. I would invite you to my party, but it will be a girl party. So I will let you play on my laptop. I wish I could mary you.

Love,
#1

I don't know where she's getting a laptop from, but no bother, the main point is that she actually does love her brother. Celebrate!

Thank heaven for 2nd grade writing assignments. Without them I may not know #1's true feelings for me. She actually...... well, you'll see:

Once upon a time their was a lovley girl. Her name was Crystal Caraline Amyal. She loved to paint, but she was to poor for a paint brush and paint colers. She had to save her money to buy them. But her mother thout that she whanted a boy to mary. Her mother was greedy. But one day a prince came and said he whant to mary Crystal but this time Crystal said yes with a bow. Her mother said NO MARY ME! And for such a compaint she was put to fire. Crystal maryes the prince and they where happy. The end.

Hmmm.

Opinion poll:

Should we start therapy now or wait a few years for these repressed feelings to fully develop into open rebellion?

For now I'm focusing on the positive. She loves her brother. Hooray!

Fall Break; the good news and the bad news

2010-10-18T19:36:00.000-07:00

#2 explained our sudden appearance to his Nana,

"Our Great Grandma died and now she's with Jesus. That's the bad news. But we got to fly on an airplane to Nutah, so that's good news. "

That pretty much sums up our fall break. Tuesday night we were told the sad news that Spouse's Grandmother had passed away. We stayed up late into the night doing laundry and packing. We were on a plane at noon the next day.

My kids finally got to see what autumn is all about. My little desert rats have never experienced genuine fall, with crisp-cold mornings, and vividly colored leaves. Now they know it truly exists outside of books.

It's autumn at the cabin

During the week there were lots of healthy questions and discussions about death with my children. #2 was a little nervous to see Grandma's body, he wondered if it would be green. Then after we saw her he wondered about her casket and just exactly how it was going to get into the ground.

I'm happy that the children's first experience with death was surrounded in love and security. Grandma Y. was just weeks away from her 94th birthday. The focus of her funeral was really to celebrate her full, accomplished life and to express gratitude for knowing and being loved by such a gentle woman.

#1 with two of her favorite cousins.

#2 at the graveside service.

That is Spouse reaching to lay a flower on Grandma's casket.

More of the good news: we got to see our not-so-little-anymore nephew one last time before he leaves on his 2-year, LDS mission next week. Holy cow, I remember playing with him when he wasn't much bigger than a baby!

Signs of Life

2010-10-06T11:27:00.000-07:00

Excuse me for leaving you all anxiously waiting for my desert garden update. Good news! There are plants growing! And most of them are not weeds. I was very worried about our little garden yesterday during the torrential rains. Our backyard filled up like a pool, covering the tops of some of our young plants. I was very afraid they would be washed away, but they survived. Hooray!

Just like a new puppy my children have quickly lost interest and responsibility of our garden. It's up to me to nurture the tender plants and I must admit to a maternal sort of affection I have for the sprouts. I truly was joyful this morning to see they had survived the storm.

Every spring I set aside a certain amount of physical and mental tolerance to see me through the grueling Phoenix summer heat. But by every September I find myself running on empty. The constant sweating irritates me more. I find the baking sun loathsome. A part of my soul shrivels up and refuses to bloom until the gosh-darned-blankety-blank-blank white-hot heat ends!

Monday and Tuesday it rained. A lot. At first the rain acted like a dipper of water poured onto hot sauna bricks. Nothing but miserable steam. But as the sky kept pouring, the hot earth eventually cooled and yesterday I found myself feeling glad to be outside. This morning on my run I heard birds singing with joy for a cool morning. I felt like singing with them. That poor part of my soul that had gone into hiding, was stretching it's limbs, wondering if it's safe yet to come out.

I've lived here long enough to know that we have a few more weeks before the real respite arrives. But today, I feel renewed and I think I've refilled my tolerance just enough to get me to Thanksgiving.

How about you? Does the weather/temperature affect you like this or am I just nutso?

ps. Happy Halloween!

Bean Sniffer

2010-09-27T09:24:00.001-07:00

It's been a long time since #2 lost something up his nostrils. Long enough to forget that he shouldn't do it.

Sunday night I served chicken tacos and black beans for dinner. After we had eaten I began clearing the table and putting things away. #1 and #2 were still at their places, chatting and giggling. Suddenly it got quiet and then #1 blurted out #2's secret.

"Mom, #2 has a black bean in his nose."

I inspected the dark orifice, but found no evidence of bean.

"Well, #2. I hope you don't die. Beans on the brain are deadly."

All traces of silliness drained from his shocked face. (Does this make me the worst mom ever?)

"Let's give your body some time to try to get rid of it on its own. If it doesn't come out in 20 minutes I'll have to take you to the hospital."

I had no intention of taking him to the hospital. I figured if the bean didn't birth itself, it would disintegrate over time, never posing any real harm. Maybe I'm totally wrong. Please inform me if nasally ingested beans are in fact deadly.

I kept cleaning up the kitchen, my mind moving onto other things like, "Why didn't I make dessert tonight? Where is my chocolate?" Several minutes passed before I remembered #2.

He was still sitting at the table, head hanging low, looking despondent. He was doing his very best not to cry.

Oops. I guess you shouldn't joke about death with a five year old. I knelt down next to him and wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sure you will be just fine. You body is probably working really hard right now to get rid of that bean."

He laid his dirty face on my clean shoulder and broke into deep sobs. Gasping for breath, "I" gasp, gasp, "don't," sob, sob, "want," sucking air, "to," snort, snort, "die."

Then a thought struck me. All this crying was producing a lot of mucus. Just what his little nose needed to expel a big black bean. I grabbed a tissue and told him to blow. While he blew I explained the mucus theory. He blew harder. On the fourth or fifth forceful blow I heard a huge "thwack" sound. We checked the tissue and sure enough, there was that slimy legume!

I thought the boy would wipe his tears away and shout hooray. But no, the relief was so immense he collapsed his dirty face onto my other clean shoulder and shook with more sobs. Sobs of joy from the deliverance from death by bean.

When he finally calmed down he was still laying on my shoulder, shuddering with after-cry-shocks. "I'm so glad I'm not going to die. I'm so glad I sniffed out that bean."

In his prayers that night, "I'm thankful that I sniffed that bean out."

First thing the next morning, "Mom, member when I almost died yesterday, but I sniffed that bean out?"

Desert Garden Report

2010-09-22T15:58:00.000-07:00

Manure was spread and seeds were planted. I think. The kids did the work, while I tried to direct the operation. In true form, #1 was the garden expert and didn't need to be told what to do. I figured since I don't know what the heck I'm doing I might as well let her do things her way.

We sowed (I think) some vegetables and some flowers.

Last night I left #1 reading on the couch while I put #2 and #3 to bed. When I came out 10 minutes later the couch was empty. "#1?" I called out. The glass door to the backyard slid open and #1 came inside, wiping her feet. "I was saying good night to the garden. I told it to try and grow some tonight."

This morning at first light, #1 bolted from her bed and out to the garden to see if anything had appeared. Nope. But hope is still high.

Immediately after school the children raced out back to water. They were disappointed not to find any green heads pushing through the brown manure mixed dirt. But they are still out there playing, staying near their precious garden.

Who needs a puppy? Apparently a bit of cow poop, some seeds and a watering can are just as exciting.

Mystical powers of manure

2010-09-21T16:04:00.001-07:00

This afternoon I had 50 pounds of fertilizer in the back of my jeep. It was carried the long way around the house from the garage to the back corner of the yard where I am about to attempt to plant my very first Arizona garden. It is 105 outside and I wasn't about to get my hair sweaty.

What's that? Who did this dirty job for me? Oh, it was my hulky five year son. All it took was two magical words.

Cow poop. And he was begging to do the job.

A short lesson on death

2010-09-14T14:19:00.000-07:00

#1 is always attempting to educate me. Just this morning while I was teaching her to tie her shoes she was persuaded that I was doing it wrong and that I should watch her. And that should answer your question as to why she is seven and can't tie her own shoes.... because she thinks she already knows how.

I recently received another illuminating nugget of intelligence from #1. In her best teacher to student voice she informed me:

When you die you have three choices. You can choose to be burned to ashes or be buried under the ground. The third choice is to be eaten by vultures.

Now you know why I'm so smart.

What Not to Say

2010-09-12T19:17:00.001-07:00

...when your wife says, "I look like a whale in this dress!"

Answer: "A cute whale."

The long weekend

2010-09-07T08:59:00.000-07:00

How was your long weekend? Was it wonderful? Last night as Spouse and I lay on our bed exhausted he said, "I wish I had every Monday off." I do too. Spouse was especially heroic this weekend.

When I returned from my Saturday morning run at 6:30, he was dressed and finishing off a healthy bowl of Trix (I know! I tell him all the time that Trix are for kids!) And then he was out the door, on his way to a side job to earn himself some extra cash for his gun accessories

He warned me the job might take up to four hours. But the four hours turned into six hours as my Saturday became just another day at home with the kids. I wasn't exactly pleased. After house cleaning I rebelled and let the kids make a huge mess of the house while I watched the first three episodes of Vanity Fair (1998 BBC version). That afternoon when Spouse finally came through the door I had reached my limit, I needed to be ALONE!

Spouse understood. He loaded the kids into the jeep and took them to the railroad park that was having a Labor Day special, one ticket rides! The kids got out of the house, had fun, got hot and sweaty and I got a few hours all to myself. What did I do? I watched the remaining 3 episodes of Vanity Fair. So it really wasn't such a bad Saturday after all. Six hours of BBC, I can't complain.

Monday morning Spouse drove the whole family up north to the Tonto Natural Bridge State Park. We brought a picnic lunch and then hit the trails for some great, kid friendly hikes. Spouse took #1 and #2 bouldering down at the bottom of the ravine so they could get inside the bridge. The day was beautiful and it was refreshing to get out of the hot city, and
see a green and cooler part of Arizona.

Here is a really nerdy looking picture of me, but it is the only one we had that captured the bridge.
The blue tongue is from the disgusting patriotic themed cupcakes my kids begged for at the grocery store.

What about you?

Based on a True Story

2010-08-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

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.

Dancing and Disneyland for Seniors

2010-08-23T14:30:00.000-07:00

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.

More Firsts

2010-08-19T13:37:00.000-07:00

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....

day two

2010-08-11T10:50:00.000-07:00

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" every.single.day. 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!"

Back to School Fashion

2010-08-02T21:23:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-02T11:21:00.000-07:00

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.

Bear Lake '10

2010-07-25T14:36:00.000-07:00

My kids are always looking forward to something. After Christmas they start talking about Easter. After Easter they start talking about Bear Lake. That's how much they love and look forward to the week we spend there every year.

It was a banner year for me: NO DIAPERS!!!

Among this year's highlights:

Kite flying

The annual tunnel to China

Over priced rock climbing

Homemade slime

Scooters!

Horsing around with cousins

(#2's 19 year old identical cousin is such a sweet pal to Buster)

An evening retreat to the cabin in Logan Canyon

Next up: Moving. The good, the bad and the ugly.

Summering in Utah

2010-07-21T19:45:00.000-07:00

When Spouse and I moved to AZ eight years ago, we decided the only way I would survive the distance from our families and the infernal heat was to take an annual summer sabbatical to our families in Northern Utah. Some years the stay is a little longer and some years a little bit shorter, but typically we are gone for a month. A whole month packed with cousins and fun, green mountains and cold lakes, blue skies and cools night. It's something we look forward to all year. The one regret is that Spouse can only be there for about a week and has to miss all the memories we are making.

Maybe that is why I take so many pictures?

This year was a doozy. Over 500 photos.

And I've posted them all here on my blog.

Just kidding. I've selected a few below to give you a sampling of the first half of our stay with my family. All six of my siblings were able to make it to the reunion at my parent's house. That's right, seven (+spouses) adult children and 16 grandchildren under the same roof for a week. My mom planned activities and meals for each day and kept things moving at an easy going, but fun pace.

American West Historical Farm

#3 helping to sweep out the pioneer dugout. On the left my dad is showing #1 the old weaving loom.

#2 taking a crack at the hatchet throwing

Children's Tea Party. #1 is in the middle with the big Anne of Green Gables hat. The farm functions as it would have in the year 1910, so the ladies putting on the tea party talked to the kids about family life from that period before serving handmade cinnamon rolls hot from their antique wood burning oven.

Then the kids made fairies from silk flowers.

#1 with one of her sweet cousins riding the miniature train around the farm.

Boating at Hyrum Dam

All my kids successfully tubed behind the boat, some having more adventurous rides and than others. Thanks to Brother Brig for all his boating skills and for staying late in the day to let me waterskii in private.

I call this my Michelle Obama picture. *

Family Freedom Run

1.5 miles complete with custom racing bibs with each child's name, a finish line to break through and an after race celebration with donuts juice and trophies for each finisher.

Here is #1 with her cousins sprinting away from the starting line.

After a few attempts to quit, #2 eventually broke through the finishing tape

#1 is the first girl grandchild and has some awesome older cousins that are so sweet to her.

#3 and her trophy, with a little bit of doughnut on her face

Lemonade Stand

These cute girls sold lemonade and homemade star-shaped sugar cookies. They would wave and yell "Happy 4th of July" to the cars as they passed by.

So many kind people pulled over and often left big tips for the girls. When there was a lull in business, Nana or an uncle or aunt would miraculously appear to keep things rolling.

Blacksmith Fork Freedom Run 15K

Post 9.3 miles. From left to right, my little sister JA, moi, s-i-l and brother Miguel. Spectators included Spouse, #s 1, 2, and 3, and niece and a nephew.

Freedom Parade

What? Doesn't your family have it's own parade to celebrate Independence Day?
Here's what to do:
Decorate your bikes, scooters, 4-wheelers and motorcycles with festive stuff.
Everyone wear their best red, white and blue.
March/ride/scoot through your neighborhood carrying a big American flag and singing patriotic songs like, Grand Old Flag and God Bless America.
Wave and smile and wish you had brought candy to throw to the neighbors who are staring at you incredulously.

OK, you got me. I didn't have any red or blue and my white was dirty.

Next up: Bear Lake with In-Laws!

*I have tried and tried but for some reason I can't upload the Michelle Obama picture. If you must see it, just google "michelle obama state dinner dress" to see what all the fuss is about. Yikes!

Human Proportions

2010-06-21T20:55:00.000-07:00

Hello, friends. Long time, no blog, eh?

We moved. Across town. More on that later. But first, three stories of human proportions.

I
While packing I unearthed a box of photos that never made it into photo albums or scrapbooks. Most were pictures taken around the time of my engagement and early marriage with Spouse. #1, looking over my shoulder, wondered aloud who the girl was. It was me, without wrinkles.

Then I came to a photo of me waterskiing at Flaming Gorge, in the Uinta Mountains in Utah. I had to do a double take to make sure it really was me, because the girl in the photo is laying it out, nearly horizontal on the glassy water with a watery plume of spray behind her. It's a good picture, taken at the peak of my water skiing days.

Typical, unsentimental me, I tossed the other photos but kept the waterskiing picture and posted it on the refrigerator, at eye level to remind me of my former self. Every time I see that photo I feel satisfied. Not because I used to be a good waterskiier. And not because I think that girl is still in me. I feel satisfied that I chose to give that up and not look back. At some point I decided I would stop defining myself as "the girl who used to ski well" and fully embrace my less glamorous, less thrilling life. I don't see myself as giving up, just facing reality and deciding to be happy with it.

II
My children scrambled out of the jeep and hurried across the pavement to the swimming pool entrance. A few paces behind I watched them inadvertently cut in front of a single man waiting in the line to pay. I apologized and offered to let him go in front of us, but he kindly declined. As we waited for a minute or two for our turn, my mommy-alert-radar went on automatic as I scanned the area for perverts, where the bathrooms were located, hiding places.... just so I could be on guard as I was alone with three kids at a public swimming pool. (I'm not crazy, right?) My suspicions landed on that single man waiting behind us in line.

What was he doing going to a swimming pool in the middle of the day in the middle of the week? Why isn't he at work? He doesn't even have kids with him? Ok, he doesn't look too creepy. He's probably only a little older than me. Hmmm, I'm going to keep my eye on him and if he gets weird we are outta here.

The pool was great; the water was cool and it wasn't crowded. It didn't take long for #2 to start begging to go off the diving board. So I took #3's hand and we walked with him down to "the deep end." I took a seat near the edge of the water to wait. That's when I noticed the single guy from the line. There he was dripping wet, waiting in line for the diving board, standing between children who were only as high as his waist. Suddenly he didn't look so creepy and I was curious. His turn came and I watched him deftly adjust the springs of the board with his feet, walk to the end of the plank, take a deep bounce and holy cow! Double flips high in the air, rotation and smooth straight entrance into the water!

At some point in his life, this now semi overweight, man in his mid 30's must have been some kind of diving superstar. We watched him do this over and over. He would do some kind of crazy dive, swim to the side then walk to the end of the diving line, along with all the belly-flopping, cannon-balling kids. When he finished diving he picked up his towel and left the pool. Probably went back to work.

I was impressed (and sad that I had judged him) that here was someone who had found a way to keep his talent alive. There were no spectators, except me and a bunch of kids; he wasn't going to win a medal or receive any recognition. Apparently he just loved to dive.

III
I picked the up phone yesterday, it was my brother Miguel. "JL? Guess, what? I ran 26 miles this morning!" My response, "You, freak. You are crazy." It was only two weeks ago that I had listened to a message from him, "Hey JL, call me back. I want to ask you some questions about long distance running." He had recently read a book about how human physiology is uniquely designed for distance running and how people can run a lot farther than they think they can. So he decided one day to see how far he could go. He ran 10 miles. That was two weeks ago.

Although in good health, Miguel is not an athlete. He plays basketball a couple times a week and probably does push ups in his bathroom in the morning.

So, last night after a healthy meal, Miguel decided he was going to see if he could run a marathon. So he woke up at 3 am, ran 26 miles (without gatorade, energy gels, an ipod or proper shoes) showered up and went to work.

What about you? As you mature, how do you balance your talents and interests with reality? What do you do to push yourself?

Seriously, It's June?

2010-06-04T13:51:00.000-07:00

And just to make it extra special we've enjoyed our first 100+ day. Let the sweating begin!

But before I get too far ahead of myself, let me reminisce on the good ole days of May. Way back in May when we (I!) packed up the jeep and hit the road to meet Spouse's family in beautiful, red, cool St. George, Utah. There was swimming. Lots and lots of swimming. Hiking (in flip flops). Cousins. Late nights. Cool mornings. Too much good food.

For me the cherry on top of the great weekend was discovering a Sweet Tooth Fairy Bakery right there in St George, and slowly savoring the rich goodness of a peanut butter cup cupcake. The low point was coming home, stepping on the scale and regretting the rich, peanut buttery goodness of the STFB cupcake.

Water wings? Yes, I did. #2 was far too daring and confident. Those wings kept him humble, he hated them.

Sweet #1, played with #3 and kept her smiling.

We made a pit stop on the way home at the "Navajo Interpretive Center." I don't know what we were supposed to interpret, but the bridge over the Colorado River and these ruins were very cool.

#1 posing with some cousins atop a red rock in Snow Canyon

Feeling proud of #3 for braving our hike I told her she was a "good little hiker." She said, "No, mom. I not good hiker. I #3"

Onto Bigger Things

2010-05-24T14:09:00.000-07:00

I've been putting off writing this post. Mostly because it's emotional for me and also because I'm afraid my words will fall short and seem trite.

{Deep breath}

Buster Boy, or better known in these parts as #2, just wrapped up his final year of preschool and will be heading to Kindergarten in a few short months. Natural sentimental feelings surround this event for me, but something deeper too. I feel relief, gratitude and pride. And I wouldn't be a mother if I didn't feel guilt.

When #2 turned two I knew in my gut that his lack of verbal communication was serious and that despite everyone's well intentioned advice, "Oh, boys just talk later," or "Give it time, some kids just take longer," I knew something needed to be done. When I consulted with my pediatrician, she went through his chart and began counting, one, two, three, nine, ten, twelve, thirteen.... ear infections. And those were just the ones we caught. Yes, #2 would be a prime suspect for speech delay.

Over the next year as I wrangled with Arizona Early Invention the difficulties with #2 were multiplying. He was getting bigger and stronger and increasingly more frustrated that he couldn't be understood. #2's lack of speech was effecting everything, mealtime, playtime, church time, travel time, the other children, my ability to leave him with babysitters. Although at his core he was affectionate and wanted to do right, his frustrations had turned him into an angry, defiant and often violent boy. Sometimes as I physically struggled with him my heart would be weeping for the innocent child inside.

We were blessed with a talented speech therapist who made significant progress with #2 in the 10 sessions we had with her before he turned three and was kicked out of the early intervention program. At his third birthday he could say, "I want..." "Can I try?" Just these little phrases brought much needed peace to our house.

The next step for #2 was to start special needs preschool three times a week where he would receive speech therapy. But this was not an easy step for me. #2 was not socially or emotionally prepared to spend that kind of time away from home. His behavior, although much improved, was still often volatile and I worried that his teacher would not have enough patience to deal with him lovingly. I also felt defensive and protective of my sweet boy. What if no one else could see the great potential in him? What if no one else could see past his angry exterior and into his soft soul?

Some of you long time readers may remember this post. Here is an excerpt of what I wrote on his first day of preschool:

"It was torturous to hear him crying as a I left him on the playground. He is so little! Ok, he's pretty huge, but he IS very young. I felt like I had just turned him over to the wolves. His teacher is not in fact a wolf, but a very compassionate woman. I hid in some bushes across from the play ground to watch him. Pretty soon he picked himself up from the sidewalk (where he was tantruming), got on a tricycle and started to ride around. I watched until they had gone inside the classroom and #2 seemed happy.

"Later when I picked him up, he wasn't so happy. He had had a terrible time. Uncooperative, crying; he had refused snack and recess. He ran to me and collapsed on my shoulder. Great! Now I really felt like I had made a mistake in sending him to preschool! However, I knew we had to give it another chance."

Preschool proved to be a great blessing. #2's teacher soon found his sweet nature buried beneath the defiance. She was firm but loving. She was positive and focused on #2's triumphs. The routines at school soon became routines at home and much of our daily struggles disappeared. #2's teacher and I began to compare notes about what worked at school and what worked at home so we could give him consistent expectations. It was working! #2 was happier! Our home was happier!

Over the next year #2 transformed into a polite, well mannered, happy and very social little boy. And it wasn't just me that noticed. Thank you, all you friends and family members, who took a moment to tell me that you noticed the changes in #2. It meant so much to me and gave me hope and confidence.

So last week wrapped up #2's two and a half year education at preschool. He left in a blaze of glory. Happy, attentive, social and ready for Kindergarten. I mentioned at the beginning that I feel guilt. I feel guilty that there was ever a part of me that doubted. A part of me that worried he wouldn't be ready. But far outshining my guilt, is my gratitude for a loving teacher, for the Lord's hand and for my precious #2.

Here are some pictures of his last day:

proudly displaying his hard-earned diploma

preschool buddies

snack time

Silly Sally, by Audrey Wood

#2 wrote this letter to his beloved teacher, "Thank you to be so lovely."

Number Three turns 3

2010-05-19T18:20:00.000-07:00

For her birthday, #3 received a bubble machine. It is a parent's dream come true. You just fill it's little cavity with bubble solution, push a button and the magic happens. Hundreds of big, beautiful, bubbles blowing continuously without you exerting a single breath. Yesterday, while #1 and #2 were at school I was sitting at my computer paying bills and catching up on business. #3 was bored and begging for... I don't know what, I wasn't really listening. While I tried to focus on whatever I was doing I absently ignored her little voice, "Mommy, you wah wah wah wah ? Mommy, wah wah wah! Mommy, wah wah wah. Mommy! MA-ME!" I suddenly snapped out of my budget-fixing-induced-coma, huh? what? You want me to get your bubbles? Sure.

She took my hand and led me to the back door. We went outside and I dutifully filled her bubble machine, clicked the button and headed straight back for my computer where my excel sheet was awaiting me. Her sweet, lispy voice stopped me in my tracks, "Mommy, you want to share this with me?"

Of course I do. I want to share this moment of your childhood and watch you dance under the bubbles, smiling and laughing with joy only a three year old can feel. Bills can wait, but you, my dear, are changing faster than the earth is spinning and soon you won't be asking me to share in your small joys.

If #1 was sent to our family to give me confidence as a mother, then #2 was sent to challenge that confidence. And #3 was sent to slow me down and ask me to cherish my motherhood.

Here are some pictures of the little rat's birthday party:

Spouse creating the "under the sea" theme chalk mural on our back wall.

buckets of Goldfish for snacking

a sand pile full of treasures

urban artists

How Spouse Fared While I was in the U.T.

2010-05-10T16:51:00.000-07:00

While I was gone for four days, Spouse was large and in charge. I left him a detailed schedule of who needed to be where and how to get there and what to eat and how to make it. It's not that I doubt his fathering abilities, it's just that the man is never home and doesn't know the day to day stuff.

So you can bet that I was surprised by our phone conversation Thursday night.

"Yeah, so I think I'm gonna go camping with Mike tomorrow night."

"What are you going to do with the kids?"

"Bring 'em."

The idea was so absurd I had to keep myself from laughing at his naivete. Taking three kids camping ALONE is not an easy task. Especially if you've never packed for or prepared for any family vacation, trip or outing. Or camping trip. But I wasn't about to burst his bubble. I figured once reality hit, he would come to his senses.

Friday afternoon I found I had missed 4 frantic calls and one text message from Spouse.

"Where is #1's swim suit? It is not in her drawer. It is not anywhere! Call me back quick!"

When I called him back it was too late, he was already on the road. He was really doing it. They were going camping.

Turns out Spouse is much more capable than I ever gave him credit for. Not only did he take the kids camping, but he cleaned up all traces of the camping trip. Laundry, done. Equipment, neatly stowed. In fact, I wouldn't believe it had actually happened if it weren't for this hard evidence:

A Matter of Heaven or Heck

2010-05-06T11:56:00.000-07:00

A week ago I was outside the Marriot Center, waiting in line to register for Womens Conference. My sisters and mom were already inside and had just texted me, "Portal E, sec 112" so I could find them once I got in. The line went quickly, but by the time I stepped through the doors, the opening song was already in progress. But, what was this?!? A bathroom door without a trail of impatient women waiting to enter? My sisters could wait another two minutes, this opportunity was too rare to pass up!

Having lived in Utah for 15 years, three of those at BYU, I am well accustomed to Mormon cultural habits. Some of them inexplicable, but when everyone else is doing it, why question why? Take for instance, the big bow phenomenon. It is bad enough that all sense of proportion and fashionable symmetry are ignored when it's a newborn baby wearing those big blossoms. But it certainly doesn't end there. Little girls, big girls, mamas and grandmas are all wearing big flowers without discretion! Mom jeans and a Merona t-shirt? Just add a big pink flower head band. Long khaki skirt and blazer? An oversize daisy pin is the answer. See? Inexplicable.

Back to the bathroom. Don't worry, my story will not get too dirty.

I hardly noticed that the opening song followed me into the bathroom. But I did notice when the song stopped and suddenly the opening prayer was being broadcast through the speakers in the bathroom.

I consider myself well-bred in matters of religious courtesy, but I was totally caught unaware of what to do when you are listening to a prayer while inside a bathroom stall. Fold my arms? Stop the flow? Seriously, how are you supposed to be reverent in the bathroom?!?

Unrighteous, that I apparently am, I decided the most honest course of action would be to continue in my business and get out of the bathroom ASAP. So I flushed and went to wash my hands. Boy, was I surprised to find three or four other women at the sinks with their arms folded, heads bowed and listening to the prayer...... in the bathroom. The sound of the water splashing into the sink reverberated off the tile floor and walls and broke the silence. There were several stall doors closed, with no noise issuing forth. For a moment, I faltered. Is this right? Is this what I'm supposed to do? Freeze in my inconvenient tracks and put on all the signs of reverence? But, unrighteous that I apparently am, I just went ahead and washed up, reaching past a frozen woman to grab a paper towel. By now I was chuckling to myself at the awkwardness of it all, imagining what this scene might look like from above. Was Heavenly Father judging us or laughing too? The amen was said and as if it were common courtesy, several toilets flushed. Suddenly the bathroom was humming with conversation and activity. I got out of there as quickly as I could so all the righteous ladies could gasp about the rude woman who kept peeing during the prayer.

It was my freshman year at BYU all over again.

What would you do?

our Sunday morning

2010-04-26T14:49:00.000-07:00

A lot can happen between breakfast and church when it starts at 1:00pm. Some people in our house like to sleep. Others like to dress themselves in fierce costumes and hunt for aliens. And there are those that go the tickle fight route. As for myself, I typically am motivated by my stomach and choose the "eat my way through a Sunday morning while fixing dinner so we don't have to wait a single second to eat when we get home" option. In which camp are you?

Happy Earth Day everyone!

2010-04-21T20:04:00.000-07:00

It's beginning to look a lot like Earth Day - that special time of year that families gather together to mourn the human destruction of earth and to pat themselves on their backs for reducing their footprint.

We've been gearing up for Earth Day at our house too. My strategy is to embed in my children what the earth means to our family, a marvelous gift from God to be used for our sustenance and to bring us joy. And as with all gifts from God we have the responsibility to be wise stewards over it; to use its bounty with consideration. My hope is that this will be their reality and they will be able to see through the shallow overtures that seem to be epitomized on Earth Day. For instance, I hope #1 will see the irony in bringing home a ream of worksheets and coloring pages about saving the trees.

For more on my Earth Day feelings, see this post from 2009.

If you don't want to read my previous post you can also watch this video (only 2 minutes), which sums up my feelings perfectly.

More on the Solar Oven

2010-04-19T14:25:00.000-07:00

Because so many of you expressed interest in my solar oven I will share with you my experiences with it so far.

Experience 1: Pot Roast.

I broke open my solar oven box around 1:00pm and read the accompanying material to discover that I was already about four hours behind. Optimal baking time for a big piece of meat is around 6-8 hours and the brightest sunlight is before noon. But the makers of my solar oven are in Michigan and I figured that they had underestimated the strength of the Phoenix sun, so I went ahead and got everything set up. I put the meat and some of the veggies in one pot and the rest of the seasoned veggies in the other pot. The oven came with optional heat reflectors that you can use on less sunny days or to speed up your cooking, so I figured if I used those I'd be good to go.

I checked the roast several times during the afternoon but the oven temperature never got higher than 180. Around 5pm I brought the pots inside to check for doneness and found the meat and vegetables only about halfway cooked. I was disappointed and went online to the company's website to see if I had done something wrong. What I discovered is that I had not peeled off the white protective film from the clear plastic lid. Duh! It's no wonder the oven hadn't be able to get very hot. The white film was reflecting the sun instead of allowing it in to cook the food!

Anyway, although it was still light enough to get another good hour of cooking from the sun I just decided to finish cooking the roast in my regular oven. But since it wouldn't be done for a while we ordered pizza. We reheated the pot roast the next night for dinner.

I know some of you are now very worried about the safety of the food. I too checked up on this. #1) Inside the dark pots where the food is, is actually hotter than the spot where the oven thermometer is. #2) Cooking begins to happen at 180 degrees, so as long as the oven is at least that hot, it is too hot for bacteria to grow. #3) I wasn't going to be eating the roast anyway, just Spouse and the kids, what did I care?

I'm just kidding about #3. Except for the part about not me eating the roast.

Here is a picture of what my solar oven looks like (except my pot lids are black):

But this is what mine looked like all afternoon, not getting hot because of that darn white film reflecting the sun! It's so reflective you can't even see the oven in the picture!

Experience 2: baked potatoes

Now that I had the kinks worked out I really wanted to see this baby exercise it's full potential. What could be safer than baked potatoes? Sunday morning I washed and wrapped the potatoes in tin foil and place them out in the oven. After a few minutes Spouse went outside to see the oven in action for the first time and made the obvious observation that perhaps I should not have wrapped the potatoes in tin foil (reflective! hello!? what is my problem?!?). Placed in the black pots, that's the best way to bake a potato in a solar oven. Apparently the black pots are a pretty integral part of solar oven cooking.

Problem corrected, the potatoes began baking around 10:30 with the oven at about 250 degrees. Before we left for church I turned the oven to face southwest to catch the sun as the afternoon passed. As soon as we got home from church, around 4:30 (ugh! I know) I went out to check the potatoes and was frustrated to see the oven in the shade! I hadn't thought that one through. But fortunately the oven was still piping hot and most of the potatoes were cooked perfectly. These were huge, 1 lbs baking potatoes and the ones at the bottom of the pots were not as done as the potatoes near the top.

Next time I will take into consideration the actual placement of the oven to be sure it doesn't get shaded as the sun moves. And when I do potatoes again I will try to get them in the oven earlier, maybe around 9:30, and I will want to rotate the potatoes halfway through, so they can cook more evenly.

Overall I think my experiences have been positive. Nothing exploded, no one died from food poisoning. Next up? Chocolate cake.

{I hereby do solemnly swear that this blog will not turn into a Pioneer Baking or a Mother Survivalists blog. Soon, I'll be back to my regular programming. Star wars jokes, and embarrassing moments. Be sure to check back on Earth Day. It's going to be good.}

Two Steps Forward One Step Back

2010-04-15T17:03:00.001-07:00

.... on the technology spectrum.

Forward: I got a cell phone! You read it correctly, dear readers. I am now in possession of my (1st) very own cell phone! A few of you may have received an excited text or two. (or twenty!) Texting is hard. (but fun!) And as it became apparent in a recent sacrament meeting talk, saying 'texting' too many times begins to sound like a different word all together. But how to do you decide on a ring tone?

Back: Solar oven! What could be better than cooking your dinner under the natural heat and energy of the glorious, free sun? (Maybe cooking it in a WOLF 60" dual fuel range) It is amazing to me that a little black box with a clear lid can cook a roast, bake a cake and steam rice. I'm saying goodbye to my Whirlpool gas range for the summer and hello to my new solar oven.

Thank you Dad for both. Now, I'm going out back to check on my pot roast.

Balboa Beach

2010-04-01T14:07:00.001-07:00

So, there are like 200,000 beaches in California. I found this out when I googled "family friendly California beach," while I was planning our vacation. Fortunately, Balboa Beach proved to be everything the internet promised. It was clean, had restrooms, a pier and good parking.

We brought a picnic lunch and made a day out of it.

As soon as we got to the sand #1 and #2 dropped their stuff and sprinted to the water, squealing with excitement. It was their first time in the ocean and it seemed that they never tired of chasing the waves in and out. As I witnessed their unfettered joy my heart swelled with happiness at the perfection of the moment. Definitely in my top ten moments of motherhood.

#3 was more cautious with her introduction to the water. She wanted to go in the water but needed a hand to hold. I was happy to oblige. Soon she gained confidence and ran free with the other two.

Near the end of the day we gathered up the kids (who were very reluctant to leave) to walk down the pier and around the little beach town. We found an ice cream stand where Spouse ordered THE HUGEST shaved ice I have ever seen. Seriously, it was at least 3 pounds. The picture below is after half of it was eaten. I tried a local specialty, the Balboa Bar. A bar of vanilla ice cream dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in chopped nuts. So good!

On our way back to the jeep we stopped by one of the open air shops for the kids to pick out some shells to bring home. It was evening and the shadows were fading into dusk. We were all exhausted, happy tired and only a little sunburned.

Happy days.

The Magic Kingdom

2010-03-31T14:28:00.000-07:00

Our highly anticipated, carefully budgeted family vacation to Disneyland finally came to pass (thanks to Disney's "Give a Day Get a Day" free tickets!) this past weekend. Precious, happy memories were made. It was lovely to be free of schedules and discipline and just have joyful fun with my children and Spouse. It was not an extended stay; Friday at Disneyland, Saturday at the beach and Sunday on the road. Short, but very sweet. Come back tomorrow for beach photos and commentary.

The last time our family visited Disneyland #2 was just a few months old and #1 was not yet three. So this really was their first time. Can you see the anticipation in #2's face as we waited for the tram to take us to the park entrance? He knew he was supposed to be excited, but wasn't quite sure what to expect.

Growing up my family frequented Disneyland relatively often and so the place is full of nostalgia for me. It was gratifying to see some things haven't changed, like Main Street, The Matterhorn and The Tikki Room (and nearby Dole Pineapple Whip stand - yum!). Most of the changes to Disneyland since I was younger have been for the best, but I was truly saddened to see the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse turned into Tarzan's Treehouse - dumb!

In the above picture #2 is showing off what he chose to spend his hard earned recycling money on: a tiny collector's edition of the Millenium Falcon (from Star Wars - sheesh, people!) The set also included a tiny version of Luke's star fighter and a figure of Yoda. These three little pieces were lost and found so many times on our trip, each time accompanied by heart broken sobs. #2 even escaped from our hotel room one morning (don't judge, I was blow-drying my hair and Spouse was 'watching' the kids and apparently didn't see or hear him leave the room) in a determined quest to find the starship which had fallen out of his pocket the night before. The starship was found and then #2 decided that while he was out he might as well see the rest of the hotel grounds. Spouse found him in the basketball courts.

You betcha!

#1 had a little money to spend too. She fretted all morning about the perfect thing to buy, passing up treats and little treasures. Then as we were reentering the park after lunch (yes, we are the cheap-os who eat in the designated picnic area outside of the park. Best peanut butter sandwich of my life!) #1 saw a girl with beautiful face painting and determined that would be her splurge for the day. I thought it turned out lovely.

Pictured above is the most ridiculous ride in Disneyland. #1, #2 and Spouse waited in line for over half an hour for this 45 second thrill. That was longer than we had waited for any ride all day! And then it was determined that #1 was too small (or too scared) to ride alone, so at the last minute the three of them had to squeeze themselves into the rocket which was about half the size of a bathtub. Out of respect for Spouse I did not publish the "trying to fit" pictures. (Blackmail?) The one redeeming thing about this experience was just as the rockets ascended high into the air, the nightly fireworks show started and they got a spectacular view.... for about 45 seconds.

Beach tomorrow!

More kid Star Wars humor

2010-03-20T16:15:00.000-07:00

As I was traveling in the car with all three children I overheard #1 and #2 talking about Star Wars. They had decided that they were Princess Leia and Luke, respectively. I asked them, "If you are Princess Leia and you are Luke then what does that make #3?"

They debated for a few moments between R2-D2 and an Ewok. The verdict? #3 is R2-D2.

The assigning of Star Wars roles continued. It was determined since #1 was Princess Leia and #2 was Luke then it was only natural that Spouse would be Darth Vader. Many asthmatic, Vader-like breaths followed.

Seeing an opportunity to promote myself in my children's eyes I decided to probe this developing scenario further. I coyly pointed out, "So. If you are Princess Leia and you are Luke and Daddy is Darth Vader, that would make me Queen Amidala." Bat, bat, bat my eyelashes.

With a grunt of disgust #1 replied, "Ugh. No. You're C-3PO."

So there you have it folks. I'm the annoying, know it all, wimpy but sometimes loveable C-3PO, human-cyborg relations.

Ho boy!

2010-03-17T13:54:00.001-07:00

This morning I put in Star Wars VI for #2. I was forwarding it to the place he had left off when he instructed me:

"Put it on the part where Jabba the Hut takes off Princess Leia's clothes."

Ho boy.

A Ragnariffic Relay

2010-03-01T19:42:00.000-08:00

After years of dropping not so subtle hints to friends, neighbors, acquaintances and strangers I was finally, FINALLY asked to be on a Ragnar Relay team. Whoo hoo!

The relay was this past weekend. And the experience did not disappoint.

I got to see this lovely sight (running):

Vehicle #2 consisted of me and 5 people I had never met until just before this picture was taken. Don't they look nice? They were. We spent 30+ hours cramped in a jeep together, our respective sweaty stinks mingling. Could have been a recipe for disaster, but fortunately our respective coolnesses were compatible.

See what I mean about cramped? And that is with one runner on the road.

My teammate, a Ragnar enthusiast, brought a cowbell with him from Utah. I learned there is a right and a wrong way to ring a cowbell when you are cheering your runner on. Next time I'll have it down pat.

In case you were wondering, this is what the middle of nowhere looks like.

Would you be this excited to run 6 miles in the dead of night?

At this point I was freezing, hungry and ready to sleep. I eventually warmed up. We found a Subway for dinner. But I never did get to sleep.

Here I am coming out of the shoot, strapping on the baton (a bracelet, really) and ready to run up a steep set of hills.

The dudes in vehicle #2. All really great runners and super nice guys.

The finish line was a party. When our final runner came around the corner we all jumped in with her to cross the finish line together. Yellow is definitely NOT my color and I guess if I hadn't wanted to look completely chubby I could have taken off a few of the layers underneath. But I was really trying to go for the "appear the hugest possible" look, - I did it for all the cameras, you know?

So, who's in for next year?

When a peanut butter sandwich just won't do

2010-02-22T12:23:00.000-08:00

Most days I have a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. That's because there usually aren't enough leftovers for both Spouse and I. I don't mind letting Spouse take the leftovers to work. When all your colleagues are going out to lunch, a ham sandwich and an apple just don't seem very appetizing. But a steaming plate of (insert some delicious homemade entree) will certainly take the edge off of not going out.

Last week was highly unusual. Because we had Spouse's parents here we ate out at least one meal each day. (Thank you In-Laws!). Paradise Bakery, Pei Wei, Claim Jumper, Kitchen at the Farm.... I was spoiled. And not just in a caloric sense. Now it is Monday and our house is quiet. It is raining outside and I can't seem to shake this craving for more rich, restaurant food.

A few moments ago I stood in front of the open pantry, head resting on the door in a depressive state as I scanned the shelves for something appetizing. I couldn't, just couldn't be satisfied with a peanut butter sandwich today! There was a silent debate in my brain, my id vs my ego, or was it my alter-ego versus my conscience?....something Freudian, I'm sure.... one side trying to convince me that nothing in our house was acceptable to my overindulged palette, (it really wouldn't be too bad to just get in the car and drive somewhere yummy) and the sensible side reminding me of our budget and questioning if I really need a calorie splurge today?

As you have deducted, I am still here at the house. Trying to fill the void that the measly peanut butter sandwich left in stomach by blogging about it.

What do you do when a peanut butter sandwich just won't do?

Skinny

2010-02-11T19:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday evening I watched #1 running during her soccer practice and thought to myself, "My goodness. She is beautiful." Her body is lengthening and her face is maturing, loosing the last of its baby-roundness. She was the picture of loveliness, happily darting around the field. Her legs used to toddle and trip but now are graceful, careful and nimble. She is strong. She is healthy. In that moment my heart swelled with love and pride.

"I hate my legs. They are so jiggly and big."

When #1 said this on our way home it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I had to mentally gasp for breath not knowing how to react to this disturbing declaration.

"What are you talking about?!? Your legs are beautiful. They are perfect!"

"They aren't skinny."

"Thank goodness they aren't skinny! You are healthy and your legs are healthy."

"Well, I hate them."

Seven. She is seven.

There was more discussion. I have no idea if I said the right things. But I am haunted.

Growing up with a sister so close to me in age (13 months) we were together a lot. We played on the same teams, played with the same friends. It was only natural that people characterized us. I remember us being introduced to adults and hearing comments about my sister including words like, tall, thin, beautiful. Some words I remember often used to describe me: healthy, friendly, outgoing. I'm sure my sister remembers things differently, but as a child I felt that since "thin and beautiful" were used to describe her it could only mean that I was not, "thin and beautiful."

One day I asked my parents if I was fat. I wanted them to say, no, you are skinny, but they said that I was "perfect" and "healthy." But in my mind they pretty much confirmed that I was fat.

So when I heard myself saying to #1 that her legs are "perfect" and "healthy" I wondered if in her mind I was pretty much confirming that her legs are fat. And I also finally understood my parents answer to me. They were trying to tell me that skinny is not the ideal and beauty comes in many forms.

Body issues!!! Ugh! Gag! Why can't we just get over them!

What am I going to do about #1? Need help. Need serious help here sistas.

Fortunately I don't have to worry about this with #2. His greatest goal in life is get big. A few nights ago after eating a particularly hearty dinner he growled, "That was good! Now I'm going to get FAT!!"

This boy

2010-02-06T20:54:00.000-08:00

turned five. FIVE!!

Five years ago he was 9lbs 12 ounces and 22 1/2 inches long. He was in fact so unexpectedly big he spent the first 20 hours of his life in only a diaper because the hospital was unequipped with clothing for a baby his size.

Today he is 53 pounds and 46 inches tall. Still very big. Big hearted. Large in happiness and laughter. Full of faith, brimming with an eagerness to do right.

He celebrated his birthday this week.

On Tuesday he shared chocolate cupcakes with his preschool class.

On Thursday he opened gifts and blew out the candles on his chocolate cake.

On Friday he celebrated some more with some fellow soldiers at his army birthday party. Which included: more chocolate cake,

an obstacle course,

shooting targets,

and opening gifts at base camp.

He says he is looking forward to:

kindergarten
loosing his teeth
getting big
t-ball

I am looking forward to:

cherishing these precious days with my sweet, big boy.

Something I just overheard

2010-01-30T19:17:00.001-08:00

.... that is killing me with suppressed laughter.

Scene: #1, #2 and I watching Nacho Libre, a movie we've all seen many times before. Nacho and Esqueleto have just been booted from Ramses party and Nacho is saying something like, "Sucks to be me right now."

Then Nacho calls Ramses a dirty word. A word I hate and cannot write without vomit coming into my mouth but it starts d and rhymes with whoosh. See? Gross, huh?

Completely unaware of what they are repeating, #1 laughs, "he he he he, Ramses is a d----- (mispronouncing the word)." Then #2 joins in, "Ramses is a d----- (completely mispronouncing the word again)."

I am sitting there in horror (that my children have been exposed to that word and are trying to say it!) mixed with laughter at their innocent mispronunciation, trying to not react at all so as to not bring attention (or questions!) to the word. They've already forgotten it right?!? And FYI, in our house there is no name calling, so I don't think they even realized it was meant as a derogatory term or they wouldn't have repeated it.

If spouse were home I would be busting a gut with him, our faces pressed into pillows to suffocate our laughter. But since he's not home, you, my lucky readers, get to share this humorous little ditty.

Once when #1 was about three years old she was entertaining herself with an alphabet book in the backseat of the car. She would make a letter sound and then try to finish it with a familiar ending. One line of rhyming went like this: "ta. truck! da. duck! sta. stuck! fu. ****!" (Maybe I shouldn't tell this story?) She paused and then said it again and again. And again, and again like a broken record, in different inflections - trying to determine if it was really a word. I just kept driving, face white, eyes bulging out of my head in horror!!!! Eventually she moved on to more interesting rhyming words that had meaning to her and she has never uttered that word since. (At least as far as I know.... yikes!)

What do you do when your kids innocently shock you with (what they don't know are) dirty words?

p.t. day

2010-01-25T12:15:00.000-08:00

I did not plan it, but somehow today ended up being potty training day. I am not usually one to act on impulse but as I was taking off #3's early morning diaper I noticed the diaper basket is nearly empty. Some sense of revolt came over me and I vowed then and there (like I do every time the diapers run low) that I would not buy another package of diapers. #3 has been pants-less all day.

So far so good.

#2 felt a little neglected this morning so I can't blame him for hamming it up a bit in this picture that he asked me to take of him.

Soccer

2010-01-20T14:41:00.000-08:00

I've been tempted many times to write a post (or posts) dumping on the place where I live. There are a lot of stories to tell, many of which I bet most of you wouldn't believe or would think were embellished.

No crazy stories today. Just the opposite. Something I am totally proud about my community:

The soccer league!

It is well organized by a couple of friendly, funny, yet professional dudes in our area. The league is super family friendly and emphasizes participation and fun rather than competition and fine-tuned skills. There is a place for that, (like the republican party) but it's not for my inhibited 7 year old or my beginner 4 year old. The coaches are just dads and moms trying to give the kids a positive experience. Maybe everyone is this happy about their soccer leagues, I don't know. But I just love ours!

#2 is the smiling blond boy

I mean, look at #1's form. So wrong! Her confidence would have been immediately shattered had an aggressive coach tried to correct her.

Human tunnel to celebrate the win.....or loss.....who cares! they don't keep score! (what 'progressives')#1 is the blond in the pig tails - not the blond with the super long braids

seriously, look how happy those kids are.

Things you can learn by reading this blog---amended

2010-01-19T12:19:00.000-08:00

1. If you see a large red dvd vending machine, do not assume it is a Redbox machine. It could be DVDPlay. If you return a DVDPlay movie into a Redbox machine you will find out exactly 51 nights later by way of an email receipt for $51. If you call DVDPlay to explain, they will give you the bar code number for the lost dvd and tell you to call Redbox but not give you the phone number. They will also tell you that when the dvd is returned they will send you a $5 credit to be used at a DVDPlay vending machine where hopefully you will rent another movie and most likely return it to the wrong big red dvd vending machine and then they can send you another email receipt 51 nights later. You've heard of Ponzi schemes? Meet the DVDPlay scheme.

2. If you find a paperback chapter book called, "The Devilish Doughnut," please return it to me post haste. But I don't think you will since my house ate it. I don't blame the house, I love doughnuts too. But I do hate library fines. Especially hefty ones.

3. If you think that a certain calling (church assignment) has been issued and accepted, double check to make sure it has actually been issued and accepted before telephoning the presumed appointee and embarrassing self.

4. If you write a critical blog post about a dental office and happen to mention the attractive nature of some of the dentists, don't be surprised if his wife reads it and leaves you a cryptic comment 18 months later leading you to the surprising and embarrassing revelation that dentists are real people too.

5. If you don't read your invitation carefully, you may show up to a baby shower one week early.

***here is the link to the snarky dentist post. And just for clarification, the wife's comment was actually quite friendly and teasing. You can see it for yourself in the comments of this post and understand what I refer to as cryptic.

9 grain, pot roast and sick jokes

2010-01-10T20:12:00.000-08:00

I did not gain a single pound between the dates of December 1 and January 4.

Then last week my friend gifted me a loaf of her homemade nine grain bread. I ate the entire loaf in less than 20 hours. I gained 3.5 pounds and have not lost an ounce of it.

If it weren't for my once a month rotten attitude, I would be the bestest wife ever. This weekend I supported Spouse in a 4.5 hour excursion to the shooting range and then today, TODAY!, I made him a pot roast. That's right readers, I, hater of all meat red, bought, cooked and served a hunk of brown meat to my dear Spouse. With potatoes and carrots on the side. If this isn't something to blog about, I don't know what is.

I had a peanut butter sandwich.

Is it so wrong of me to love those guy-with-no-arms-and-no-legs jokes? It's not cruelty toward people with disabilities, but a love for puns. Just try to read this without laughing out loud, or LOL:

What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs on your doorstep?

Matt

What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs in your mailbox?

Bill

... trying to waterski?

Skip

... hanging on your wall?

Art

... at the gas station?

Phillip

.... at the bottom of a pit?

Doug

.... in your swimming pool?

Bob

Did I miss any?

Love came down on Christmas

2009-12-26T15:05:00.000-08:00

There's a first for everything, even on Christmas Eve. Until this year we had never been invited to a birthday party for Jesus complete with birthday cake (with pumpkin cream cheese filling between two layers of chocolate buttermilk cake), Christmas Jeopardy (do YOU know the ingredients of figgy pudding?) and lots of yummy food.

After our own family's little Christmas Eve devotional the kids were tucked in their beds and Spouse and I put on "It's a Wonderful Life" while we began our work of wrapping and assembling.

I woke at 7:10 Christmas morning to silence and grayish streams of sunlight peaking through the blinds; the children were still asleep! The morning was full of excitement, joy and a big breakfast. Is there anything sweeter than children on Christmas morning? No. No there isn't.

***my apologies in advance for the state of my hair and the terrible pajama pants I was wearing. I swear they only appear once a year.****

Dude, Where's My Card?

2009-12-24T07:45:00.000-08:00

Have you been stalking your mailman, camping by your mailbox or anxiously pining away for our family's Christmas card/picture/brag sheet? Well, you are not alone. We didn't forget about you. We forgot about EVERYONE.

Let me explain. We didn't forget. It just didn't happen. Very sorry. I hope you can make it through this Christmas season without our annual greetings.

But we have LOVED getting all of your card/pictures/cute letters. If you haven't sent yours yet, we won't hate you, yet. You have until December 31 before we are officially offended. But don't think that means you are getting something from us. If you feel like this is an unfair deal, just remember that it's Christmastime and it is always better to give than to receive.

As a token of our appreciation and goodwill to our friends and family I will bestow upon you the great honor of viewing some of our Christmas preparations in the form of photography. (These aren't just pictures anymore, now that I have my fancy new camera. They are Photographs.)

Christmas cookie mess making, I mean decorating. To avoid the overly-accessorized-to-the-point-of-inedibility cookies of years past I set a new rule this year: if you don't want to eat it, no one else will. Sprinkle, red hot and frosting usage was kept quite tame.

What Christmas would be complete without a visit to the temple to see the lights? Add some friends and warmish weather and you've got yourself a memory!

A morning at the park is just what the doctor ordered to stave off the excitement and subsequent energy of it being almost Christmas.

The kids have made up new games based around Christmas and our tree. Taking the packages out from under the tree and organizing them into piles or rows is called "Santa's Elves" and pretending to surprise each other with the presents is another one they call "Special Delivery"

Next year will be better. You'll get a card.

Merry Christmas!