Still thinking of a clever title...

Home Sick.

2012-01-27T10:13:00.001-07:00

Brynn has been home sick with me for three days. She is officially done with being home. She's bored and cranky. She feels like crap, but wants to play. I feel like she has been crying for three days

Maturation Night.

2012-01-26T00:10:00.002-07:00

I do not remember going to maturation night as a kid. I was probably moving. I blame all my childhood memory lapses on moving.

Tonight Grace and I attended 5th grade maturation night at the school. Grace came home last week with a paper about it.

"It's so gross, Mom." [big grossed out sigh]

"It's not a bit gross, it's interesting. I'm excited to go and hear what they say."

"Oh yeah me too. I think it will be interesting, but all my friends say it is gross."

So we had an interesting conversation about how a lot of people get a little weirded out talking about personal stuff, but its fine. You are supposed to learn about things and it is a mom's job to teach you what's up.

"So it isn't gross?"

"Nope, it's just science."

After that she seemed excited to go. Luckily tonight was not the first time Grace was hearing most of this information. I think if it had been the first time hearing some of it, it would have blown her mind. I had to lean over a few times and say, "don't worry about that, we will talk about that later." I'm really, really convinced that the "birds and bees" talk is not one conversation or night at the school, but a series of conversations that get more informative as you age. (At least I hope it works out that way.)

Overall, I thought tonight was handled well. Though the lady giving the talk was really hitting the word horrific a lot. I know she is trying to dissuade everyone from getting pregnant as a teenager, but after you say the word horrific about 20 times during one puberty talk, well kids starting getting a weird vibe. Yes, some parts of pregnancy might technically be classified as challenging, but I think horrific is a bit much.

Grace and I had a good talk, post meeting. I think we have a good foundation for talking later.

I really enjoyed the experience tonight with her. I'm really loving mothering lately. I love watching them grow up.

Alert.

2012-01-25T08:25:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning totally refreshed and raring to go. That never happens to me. Once in a blue moon, maybe, but almost never.

My alarm went off this morning and my eyes came right open. Instantly my brain recognized something different about my body and I actually thought "this must be why people run."

?!?!?!?!?!?

"What?" I said to my brain. "We wake up actually rested for the first time since Clinton was President and the first thing you think is this is why people run?"

What my brain should have said is "ah, this must be why people sleep," but apparently something deep in my subconscious wants to exercise at 6 in the morning.

Thank goodness I'm here to talk myself out of such nonsense.

Cali Souvenirs

2012-01-17T13:01:00.000-07:00

I hate the word souvenirs. It's so hard to spell. I can never get it right.

Anywho...

Grandmas Sharon gave each of the girls 10 dollars to buy a Cali souvenir, which we had to do at the airport because there was no time to go anywhere else.

"We are thinking a stuffed animal mom."

"No, no stuffed animals. We have enough stuffed animals. How about a little snow globe?"

I've been bringing them tiny snow globes back from all my trips. I'm trying to break them of their stuffed animal addiction one trip at a time.

"I don't know. We just really loved stuffed animals."

"A keychain? A piece of candy?"

Candy - I'm suggesting candy. I, your mother, am desperate to prevent any additional stuffed animals from entering my home.

So what did they end up with?

That's right a stuffed animal ATTACHED to a piece of candy. Heaven help me.

Seals to commemorate Uncle Scott's teaching (including Youtube and personal stories) about Elephant Seals.

Grace named her's Caramel and Brynn's is named Cotton Candy.

At least they are small stuffed animals...and for the record they really seem to be enjoying their new Utah home and their owners are over-the-moon. And I'm a giant pushover.

Sam's Chowder House

2012-01-17T12:40:00.000-07:00

After the redwoods we went for a drive up the California coast. We saw all the good surf spots, admired the craggy cliffs and learned about elephant seals. Then we stopped for late lunch/early dinner at Sam's Chowder House. From the outside you are not expecting much, but good night, it was delicious.

After Scott and Chad braved the frigid weather to entertain the kids at the beach while we waited for a table, we were happy to finally settle into a spot. We killed time in between courses coloring...

Devin calls this masterpiece "vigorous Lobster"

Then Scott asked to see my camera and when he handed it back to me it had about 20 pictures on it that looked a little something like this...

"What did you think was going to happen when I asked for your camera?" he said.

The camera again found it's way back to that side of the table and by then everyone got in on the action.

So I grabbed my iPhone to capture a few of them having fun. This one is my favorite, real smiles as they admire their own weirdness:

The food finally arrived and boy was it good. Dear Utah - We need more independent restaurants and fewer chains!

Behold ...

halibut, sauteed greens, roasted fingerling potatoes and some kind of sauce. I don't know what the sauce was but, put it in a cup and I'll drink it

Dear S'more cake - I'll be dreaming about you for the next 5 years.

Grace ate her first piece of salmon and actually ate it. I was so proud. The kids were really good during the meal, the meal was really good, the restaurant was right on the beach, so the view was spectacular. All in all, a great end to a fun day.

Here are a few more pics of us at dinner, pretending to be normal people...

Brynn, Chad, Grace and Scott

Scott and Devin

Grace and Dad

Brynn and Grandma Sharon

Mom and Grace

Redwoods are very big trees, but seriously, VERY big!

2012-01-17T12:35:00.000-07:00

Scott took us on a drive to the coast and we made a stop of Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. I've always wanted to see the Redwoods and they are amazing. You know they are going to be really tall, but you can't quite wrap your mind around how tall those trees really are.

Take this one for example:

This tree is about 270 feet tall and over 17 feet wide. That means this tree is almost as tall as the Statue of Liberty. Want to be really blown away - this tree grew from a seed that is about the size of a flake of oatmeal. Amazing.

At the entrance to the trail they have a cross section of a redwood set up as a display. The tree fell in 1934, but rings indicate that it was on the earth when Christ was born. Trees that are thousands of years old. It was really so peaceful and so awe inspiring. I loved it. I could have stayed in that forest for ever.

We learned a few cool things about redwoods and fires. Because the redwoods have such thick bark and because it is actually heat resistant (!!) fire can damage on of these trees, but if enough tissue remains undamaged the tree with actually live and over time it will heal the fire scar. That's right - self healing trees.

Mom and girls in a burned out section of a Redwood

meeting our 2012 goal to get more pics of the whole family

The requisite picture of everyone looking up at the trees. :) no this picture wasn't staged, what are you talking about?!?!?

There was one especially cool tree. It had been hollowed out inside by fire. We rounded the corner and there was a park ranger standing there (he was a little hobbit looking if you ask me. Nice and super knowledgeable, but seemed too at home in the forest, if you know what I'm saying.)

Anyway, he points out this hole and tells us all to go inside the tree.

Thank you, strange forest man, but I'll pass.

Not the rest of my family, oh no, they all head straight into the tree. "Go on," he says "I've been in there with 30 adults."

That's a strange claim to fame, Ranger Hobbit. I don't willingly put myself in tiny dark spaces, but that's just me.

Hobbit Hole

Then Chad appears in the hobbit hole and says "you really should come in here. It's pretty amazing."

"Ok, fine," I say. I glance at Ranger Hobbit who seems smugly happy that I'm about to climb into the Hobbit Hole. I wanted to say step off Ranger Hobbit, I'm going because my husband says it is ok, not because you say it is ok. But I refrained.

So I go climbing into the hobbit hole and once you get a few inches inside you can stand up! And there we are all standing up together - inside a tree. Don't forget, we are tall people. I lasted about a minute before the tree walls started closing in on me. I climbed out, admitted to Ranger Hobbit that it was indeed pretty darn cool.

Extremely claustrophobic, but I'm glad I made myself climb in for a minute. Definitely worth experiencing.

Mom and Grace

Sisters

Grace, Grandma Sharon and Brynn

cousins

A weekend in California, forever after known as the trip where Brynn kept spilling things on her pants.

2012-01-17T12:30:00.000-07:00

Scott and Ashley had a baby, so naturally we had to go to California, so I could take this picture.

Aunt Lisa and Baby Heidi (2 weeks-exactly)

It was a short trip, but we got to hang out with Scott and Ash, play with Devin and love on little baby Heidi. A few trip highlights:

Devin can run. RUN. He's busy, talks a ton, listens to everything you say and parrots it back. He loves the girls. and they love him. "You come stay in Devin's room" is code for I'm not done playing with you, please come back.

"Is that a bear in my bed? Nope. Chuck Testa." Search for Chuck Testa on YouTube. Now imagine my 2 year old nephew singing that song. hilarious.

Devin loves Christmas music! There are now about 15 miles of California coastline I will forever associate with Jingle Bells.

Scott is an amazing tour guide. He's explored every inch of road in and around San Jose, so he knows some cool spots.

The girls love "Cali" and are amazed at how many palm trees and dogs there are.

Heidi is a squeaker and she has the most perfect baby skin I've ever seen.

Boston Market. Quarter white, double mashed potatoes. Nothing I can't make myself, but I just love it so.

Frigid in California is Easter weather in Utah. Sorry Californians, if there are flowers blooming you are prohibited from using phrases like frigid, freezing, arctic. It's an insult to snow dwelling peoples everywhere.

Brynn spills things and most of those things land on her pants. Poor child had to ride home on the airplane with pants totally soaked with apple juice, luckily the tail winds were in our favor, so the flight was only an hour.

Brynn (7) and Baby Heidi

Grace (10) and baby Heidi

Ashley, Grandma Sharon, Brynn, Grace, Heidi, Lisa

Scott, Ashley, Heidi, Lisa, Chad, Grace, Brynn and DEVIN!! (Getting Devin in this pic was lucky. He was very busy lawnmowering at the time.)

Motivation.

2012-01-12T17:36:00.001-07:00

I'm in the kitchen, getting ready to make dinner and realize the dishwasher is full. So I call out to the troops:

"Anybody not busy that can come unload the dishwasher for me?"

I hear the shuffling of feet and suddenly I turn around and there are two smiling faces.

The little smiling face says:

"Mom, did we hear you say you need some help? We would love to help you mom. You know why?"

I brace myself for praise, accolades and expressions of love.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because we want money!"

Way to burst my bubble with your little smiling face.

And for the record no one gets allowance in this house. You don't get paid because you do your jobs. You get to live here because you do your jobs.

BYOSB

2012-01-10T12:49:00.000-07:00

Dear People who will one day buy this house,

I've been saving this for you.

I think it is a steamer basket that came with the microwave. You can tell from the one inch of solid dust on it, I've never used it. I thought you might want it someday, so it has been in my cabinet for 6 years!! Ridiculous.

So I'm here to tell you that it's gone. I gave it to DI. (i washed it first, because, 1 inch of dust, well, gross.) In the future when you buy this house it will will be BYOSB - Bring your own steamer basket.

Apologies.

Order and the Peace of a New Year

2012-01-10T12:40:00.000-07:00

I don't deal well with clutter. Clutter is my enemy. When I look around and see piles, overflowing drawers, dust, loads of laundry...basically disorder in any and all forms, well, to be frank, I freak out. I don't need total perfection, but I do need order. I can have a pile somewhere if I know what that pile is for and when it will be going away.

I took the last week of December off from work and went on a post-Christmas cleaning and organizing spree. I cleaned out the toy closet, the basement, tidied up my food storage, put all the outgrown clothes away, took 3 loads to DI and a load to the dump and perhaps best of all - I cleaned out my pantry. I've been putting off that job for at least 2 years so it was bad, bad, BAD!

Embarrassingly bad.

Let's look at some pictures, shall we?

Here are some examples of what I can't live with:

Pantry before

Oh my gosh, I'm having a panic attack just looking at this. How did I let it get this bad?

Here's the way I need to live in order to be nice to those around me:

Pantry After

Let's not discuss how many trips to Target this job took me.

Or how many days (3), but look at this...

Pantry Nirvana

I must say, though my post-Christmas clean out made for long, dusty days, having a house of order has dramatically improved my outlook on life.

As 2011 rolled over into 2012, I've noticed a sweet peace in the house. This may or may not be related to my New Year's Resolution to make my bed and my recent pantry Nirvana, but those things haven't hurt the good feelings in the house. It feels like someone has wrapped the house in bubble wrap and we are hiding away in here. It's like our life has taken a deep breath and it's a lovely, peaceful time.

I've been cooking a lot and people have been gratefully eating said cooking. There is a lot of game playing, scripture reading, and snuggling.

I was in the kitchen the other night, working on dinner. The kitchen was warm with things bubbling away on the stove and warming in a hot oven. The house was all picked up and the washing machine hummed quietly in the background. Then one by one everyone started to trickle into the kitchen. When I turned around Chad and the girls were sitting at the table - Chad looking at something on his iPad, Brynn coloring and Grace reading a book. Each person doing their own thing, but doing it together. A palpable rosy warmth felt like it hung in the air around them. I'm grateful for these lovely quiet moments.

None of my trials have gone away. They are still here, standing at the back door, winking at me as they tap on the glass, but I can't seem to feel their effects when I'm here, tucked away with my little fam. So I won't be coming out for a while. There is a sweet peace in the house right now and I'm going to soak in it until my fingers get pruny.

It's a new Year!!

2012-01-03T13:19:00.004-07:00

As of January 1st, I'm the proud Auntie of 10! Little Heidi Marie Larsen was born on New Year's day 2012. That has to be the best birthday ever!

(Unless you are a Mayan and then it's highly disappointing, what with the end of the world and all.)

So with this 10th tiny tot I have once again begun my quest to make myself a favorite Aunt. I've tried with all of them and while they all seem to fancy me, so far only 1 clearly prefers me to all her other relatives.

That's right Press - it's you and me baby!

I have hope that someday when faced with a room full of blood relations, Heidi will follow Presley's good example and choose to walk right to me and wipe her sticky hands on my sweater. (You must be willing to accept such stickiness in order to be the favorite.)

In other news, I've decided to limit myself to one simple resolution this year. I actually started in December, so I'm a month in and doing well. In 2012, I will make my bed everyday, except Monday when the cleaning lady will make it for me and except for those days when I'm too sick to get out of it. So minor revision, in 2012 I will make my bed most days.

Now that may not seem like much, but for me all good, productive things flow from a well made bed, so I'm pretty sure that if I can tackle the bed, I might just get some other important things done too. I will not be naming those important things at this time, lest you think I've made them resolutions.

Nope, one resolution and one resolution only for 2012, make my bed most days. I've a got a good feeling about this year, yes indeedy.

Hello World

2011-11-29T19:30:00.001-07:00

Greetings Internet!

I haven't blogged in a while. The reasons? Well they are many...

I'm not that inspired to write.

It's cold outside. What that has to do with writing on a blog, I have no idea, but it is cold. Can't argue with that.

A lot of the posts I want to write have pictures that should be posted with them. I haven't loaded the pictures from my camera onto my computer. For some reason I find this an insurmountable problem.

I'm trying to go to bed early - ish. I'm actually prioritizing sleep above blogging. It's weird, but I find myself more rested. Go figure.

And last but not least:

I'm really busy. No, that's putting it too mildly. I'm REALLY busy. Hmmm...still isn't capturing it quite right. I AM REALLY, REALLY, RIDICULOUSLY BUSY. Yes, that's the ticket.

I remember the good old days, you know like last May, when I was on 3 projects and felt so busy. BWAHAHAHA. If the May version of myself knew what the October/November version would be dealing with, I would have told myself to go to Hawaii and not come back.

I was on 12 projects, but I just finished 1, so technically I'm on 11. Yes, this one goes to 11. 11. It sounds crazy when I say it, so I add them up again and they still total 11.

I've traveled 5 of the last 6 weeks and I've got one more trip. This week I rolled over to the next Medallion status and I now get to go in the fast TSA line. That's pretty cool, I've long coveted the fast TSA line. When the Gold Medallion luggage tags come in the mail, I'm totally putting them on my bags.

Don't get me wrong. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy my job. I'm enjoying it. I like my job. It's hard. It stretches my brain, which while occasionally painful, feels like a long term growth strategy. I'd like to be smarter than I am today and doing hard things feels like one way to get smarter, so bring it.

So why am I blogging right now?

Well I'm in O'Hare and my flight that was supposed to leave at 6:30 is delayed until 10. Blurgh. The lady across from me in in her 7th hour of flight delay, so I can hardly complain. But hardly complaining means you can complain a tiny bit, so blurgh.

Anyway, thought I would make use of this time by putting a word or two on the blog.

It won't have any pictures of course and that irks me, but I'll learn to live with it. Or I'll upload the pictures later. Wait, who am I kidding? No I won't.

It's not easy being green

2011-10-25T15:55:00.003-06:00

Today I was chastised by my 10 year old (lovingly but still) about my choice of light bulbs.

"Do you want light mom or do you want heat?"

"What?"

"These kinds of light bulbs waste energy. The twisty ones are much better."

"Ok."

"So do you want light or heat?"

"I want both."

Stumped her. She had no response to that other than that response just wasn't right.

Dear school (and on some level Al Gore),

Please stop teaching my children about being green. I work a long, hard day and then I mother a long, hard night. I simply do not have the energy for lengthy discussions about how my light bulbs are destroying the planet.

I recycle. What else do you want from me?

Tongue Twisters.

2011-10-23T13:05:00.001-06:00

We're into tongue twisters around here lately.

Grace thinks World War One is a tongue twister, so she and Brynn sat around the dinner table one night saying World War One as fast as they could. Over and over and over.

Instead of making them stop, I taught them actual tongue twisters. First it was something simple: Sally sells seashells by the seashore.

But then that was easy and they were ready for something much harder.

So I hit them with that classic Japanese tongue twister Nama mugi, nama gome, nama tama go. Which is something like raw wheat, raw (I can't remember) and raw egg.

They are still working on that one-, so I officially win the tongue twister battle.

Weekend.

2011-10-18T11:04:00.001-06:00

It's a whole new world having all the family live close by. Our social calendar is much fuller than it used to be now that everyone lives within 10 minutes of each other. Last weekend we watched one nephew and went to the birthday party for another.

We took Tanner out for pizza benders (calzones for those of us who didn't grow up in Murray, UT) at our favorite dive, Italian Village. We went to Target to buy birthday gifts and treats, we visited the lot and then took them home to watch a movie and eat tiny Dixie cups full of candy corn.

We tucked the kids in bed and I watched as Tanner laid his stuffed animals out next to him and lovingly covered them with a blanket before settling into his sleeping bag with the 5 other blankets he brought. He could be one of mine, what with his love for all things furry and his attachment to the baby blankets Grandma C made him.

We had a pretty low key Saturday. We may or may not have taught Tanner how to skateboard. We may or may not have an awesome hill next to our house for such activities. I can nether confirm nor deny these activities.

After lunch we tidied up and went to Cooper's bday party. It was a western theme and Aunt Amelia is known for her big theme parties. She opened the door and in but a mere second you realized she had covered all the floors in her entry way, hall and kitchen with straw. After a little bite to eat and a few presents the pony lady showed up. The girls were super excited to ride a pony and did a good job waiting their turn.

When the party was wrapping up and I was looking for Grace and Brynn to go home, I found them in the front yard with the pony lady. She was showing them how to crush apples with their heels and feed them to the little guy. They were petting him and feeding him and soaking in every pony moment they could. I'm pretty sure these girls want a pony. I'm also pretty sure they are not getting one, but the pony was the highlight of their weekend.

We own this dirt.

2011-10-18T10:46:00.000-06:00

the homestead.

We bought a lot. No not a lot, a LOT. A home lot.

Don't go getting all excited. I don't think we will be moving for a few years. We could move now sure, but we'd have to live in a tent and I'm just not down with that.

The lot came along earlier this year and, even though it took months, everything just sort of fell into place. We drove out there Friday evening after we closed. We parked the car at one end and walked up to the top to take in the view.

"The car looks really far away, Chad."

"I know crazy."

"This is a lot of lot. Seriously what are we going to do with it?"

"Grow weeds? Camp!"

"A thousand times no, we are not camping on the lot."

"The guy said we could."

"Seriously."

We stood in the dusky haze and watched the kids run and play. Chad put his arm around me and I thought we were going to have some big moment. Talk about how far we've come in life. Wonder when we got old enough that people let us buy stuff like this without parental permission. Be amazed at the thought of standing on a piece of our own future.

I was feeling it. I was ready for a big moment to seal this big moment with.

"I think I can see the Y from here," Chad said.

"Oh you cannot."

"I really think I can. I need to get some binoculars and then we should come back out here and see if we can see the Y."

"There is no way you can see the Y from here."

"I think you can."

I wiggled out from under his crazy arm and started back toward the car.

"Hey."

I turned around to look at him. "What?"

"I really am excited to work toward this with you."

"Me too."

Now that's a moment.

Motherhood in this moment.

2011-10-17T22:12:00.000-06:00

Hello my darling daughters,

You are both tucked in your beds sleeping peacefully.

Brynn, you have been crashed since 7:15 PM on account of the illness you are currently faking. I shouldn't say that. I don't know with surety that you are faking. I only suspect as much. If you are not faking, then my apologies and the extra sleep will certainly help you feel better. If you are faking then consider this payback for all the drama.

Grace, you are only a few minutes into your dreamland journey. You got to stay up on account of your advanced age (10 years, 3 months), your late karate practice and your copious amounts of homework. You are still a good sleeper, a decade into life. I turned out the light, tucked you in tight, gave you a big kiss and a snuggle and I'm pretty sure you were asleep before I was out of the room. I covet that talent. That ability to lay the cares of the world away in a nanosecond and let your body sleep. I really, really want that.

It's been a while since I wrote down my feelings for you, but I've been thinking about it a lot. When I read this in 20 or 30 years I want to remember what motherhood was like in this moment. I want you to remember too, because you'll be where I am and you will need the occasional reality check.

I'm so loving you both right now. You are funny and happy. You are both good little souls whom I am proud to send out into the world to represent me. We took you to a "grown up" meeting the other day and you both sat quietly, entertaining yourselves for the entire hour. We didn't even bribe you. I didn't even think about bribing you, truthfully, which tells me that you are becoming people I can count on. More and more I know that if I ask you to do something, you listen and generally do it.

I do catch the occasional exasperated stomp or dramatic eye roll. In these moments, when I'm shocked by how stupid you think I am, I remind myself you are only children. But most of the time you exceed every expectation I have for you. I'm truly proud of the lovely ladies you are growing up to be.

Mothering is work. Hard work. Case in point, the other day I heard myself threaten to set the hermit crabs free into the wild if no one but me gave them food and water. Needless to say, I must have made good on enough threats in your lifetimes given that I haven't had to feed or water those crabs one day since.

I frequently find myself frustrated with the burden of keeping up with a house and a job and kids. I find myself overwhelmed with tasks that I know others are capable of helping me do. I'm trying to make a conscious effort to be kind instead of stressed. To be focused on you instead of a to do list. Instead of getting all flustered and upset, I'm trying to be better about engaging you in helping me. I'm amazed at the great results I get when I invite you to help, instead of demanding it. The whole house feels warmer and softer. You are kinder to each other. I feel greater love for you.

Funny how you are better able to rise to an occasion when you are not being dominated by a demanding shrew. I don't know why this is profound insight to me. I have always known that a mother sets the tone in a home, but I'm learning a lot as I'm actually seeing it play out before my eyes.

I feel my capacity to love you expanding. I'm enjoying taking care of you, helping you with school and projects, encouraging you to think and read and wonder, helping you discover talents, and deal with disappointment.

I've been trying hard to listen. To look in your sweet little faces and hear what you are saying to me. I find I have to be actively engaged in a moment or I tend to be dismissive. I literally have to make myself stop sometimes, to sit with you and really hear what you are telling me.

I feel so much hope and excitement for the future. I don't dread you growing up and maybe that's due, in part, to the way I'm trying to savor the present.

If I had to sum up this moment of motherhood in a single word, I'd say surprise.

I'm surprised by how much work it is.

I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying these moments and I'm surprised that I have to choose to enjoy them. I have definitely felt in years past like I was just trying to survive my life. I wasn't living it. It wasn't fun. It was survival mode. How can I say this nicely? Survival mode sucks. I'm sure we will be in survival mode again some day. It's part of life - the enduring--but it is possible to come out of those moments and choose happiness.

I'm surprised by what you are capable of and frequently find myself delighted with the compassion, confidence and grace I see developing in you.

It's not easy and it's not perfect, but we have a loving, fun family life.

I love you, my babies, more than I knew was possible.

So grow up and have great kids (and they will be great). Be the best mothers you can be and when you occasionally need to lock yourself in the bathroom and pretend you have forgotten how to speak English just go with it...

...but come out eventually or you really will miss all the fun.

All my love,
Mom

Letters from a Weary Traveler

2011-10-10T23:44:00.001-06:00

It all started with a simple Facebook post:

Dear Self,

Seeing the movie Contagion and then expecting to live in the work unaffected - genius plan.

And then I realized I hadn't written and letters post in a while and well, a letters post is my favorite post. So I'm traveling, I'm tired and I'm writing letters. Go ahead and cheer -I'll wait.

Ready?

Great - here we go:

Dear TSA,

Your new security protocol -- "please state your name" -- wow. You should be very proud that was a tough code to crack.

love,
Lisa. Christensen. (Bawaahaha. Can't stump me!)

Dear Smelta Airlines,

If you could never say the words "equipment change" to me again that would be really, really great.

love,

Sucked in by that Medallion you gave me

Dear germs who gave my kids the stomach flu 12 hours before I had to get on an airplane,

Think Purell. Think Lysol. Think soap. Think lye. Oh yes, lye. Whn I get my hands on you - total. destruction.

Fiercely,
Mom on the war path

Dear Chad,

Could I love you more? I can't imagine how.

Love,

The girl whose sick kids you are tending

Dear CNN,

I don't watch the news for a week and somehow Herman Cain (founder of Godfather's Pizza) has moved up to #2 in the GOP Race? Is everyone in this country on crack? 999 plan? I'm not smart enough to know if that will work, but the pizza CEO? really? Are you making this stuff up?

Also do you think we could get people to start campaigning 3 years before the actual election? I feel like 2 years just isn't annoying enough.

Love,
big fan of the primary political beauty pageant you are hosting because without it what would be my excuse for yelling at the TV?

And finally ...

Dear tired brain,

When I'm in a cab and I crack the window so that I don't sweat to death, please don't send me thoughts like "Oh my word, I hope I don't accidentally throw my phone out the window." ?!?! These thoughts are neither rational, nor helpful. They are crazy rantings happening inside a tired mind. When I want your paranoia, I'll ask for it.

love,
the rest of me

Tax Humor

2011-10-06T13:59:00.000-06:00

I don't normally post about my work, but in a recent call there was a comment so laugh out loud funny I don't want to forget it.

"Ah, the organizational chart, more expressive than the human face."

I appreciate client humor, oh so much.

conference.

2011-10-03T09:50:00.000-06:00

What a lovely conference weekend. I enjoy conference - I'm generally supportive of anything you can do in your pjs. Watch 8 hours of church while snuggled in your bed? Yes, sign me up.

In addition to the spiritual feast, we enjoyed a delicious dinner of vegetable beef stew and homemade rolls. And I made a lot, so likely we will be feasting on it some more this week.

Not the rolls however, I have to ration those babies out, they go quickly. Somehow when hot rolls come out of the oven mid meal - everyone has just eaten the bite of meat that would qualify them for the next roll...curious. I should start making homemade rolls in exchange for clean bedrooms. I bet I'd really get some takers.

I really love conference - its the best start to fall.

Charity vs. Safety

2011-09-28T09:57:00.002-06:00

Grace is doing safety patrol at school this week, which means going early and staying late, so the girls are not walking with their usual group. I find myself reassured by the safety of a larger group, so we've been dropping them off at school and in the afternoon I've been walking over to pick them up.

Yesterday, as Brynn and I sat in the shade of the meeting-spot tree a girl approached us, flyer in hand, and asked us if we had seen her cat. She had a flyer. She looked sad. I think she really did lose her cat and was on a mission to find it.

However...

I've long thought that because my children are sweet, if someone asked them to help find a lost puppy, or a lost cat, they would walk right off with that person. So we've had the "if someone asks you to help them look for their puppy you don't go with them" conversation about 100 times. Thought it couldn't hurt to have it once more, so after the girl walked off I said to Brynn:

"What if that girl asked you to come with her and help find her cat?"

"I'd tell her I have to ask my mom first."

"What if she said, 'If you won't help me, then you are mean'?"

"I'd say I'm sorry, but my mom told me to wait right here."

"What if she started crying?"

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I have to wait here."

"Good, and if you ever feel really nervous about something, you should go into the office and call me."

Grace walked up not 30 seconds later, sat down and said "Mom, I think I need to go help that girl look for her cat."

So I repeated the conversation with Grace, but her thoughtful 10 year old brain had some questions the simply obedient brain of a 6 year old doesn't have.

"But I thought we are supposed to help people..."

"You're right we are, but we also have to be careful."

"But she was a kid."

Brynn pipes up "Bad guys can try to trick kids."

"And they would use kids to trick you?" Grace said.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe they might."

"But Mom," Grace counters " I really want to help her."

"I know you do. And I do too. But how can we help her and still think about keeping ourselves safe?"

What followed was a really interesting conversation about ways you can help people besides going with them to look for the cat. Lots of good ideas came out of those two little happy souls. You can pray for her, you can take an extra flyer if she has one, you can write down the phone number off the flyer then you can keep your eyes open for the cat and call her if you see it, if you see the cat you can try to catch the cat and call her to come and get it...

Lots of good ideas about how to balance being safe with being kind. It made me think. You hear a lot about what a terrible world we live in, how things are bad and how people are unkind, how it isn't as safe as it used to be "when we were kids." I suspect some of us remember the "old days" more fondly than they really were, but even if all those things are true, even if the world is brimming with evil there is still the desire for kindness. There are still kind souls in the world, good people who desire to help others and there are lots of ways to be kind and charitable.

It is possible to balance charity and safety and that felt like a rather profound lesson for a sunny, autumn afternoon.

Book Reports in the Year 2011

2011-09-28T08:30:00.000-06:00

POST UPDATE: Grace got 105/100 on her book report and she is convinced that the shovel humor put here over the top. She said everyone in her class laughed and told her that her project was the best. Beaming- that kid was beaming!

Book reports are more fun than I remember. For her September book report Grace read the book Holes and for said report we did a video where Grace played two characters and I interviewed them about important things that happened in the book. We had a lot of fun working on it.

Grace played Stanley (the main character) and the Warden (the villain), complete with long, blood red nails (press on of course).

At the last minute Grace came up with the idea to interview the shovel. "It will be so funny, Mom. You'll make it funny! Come on, Mom." Like I need convincing to interview the garden tools. Please, I'm so all over that.

For your viewing pleasure - the clip my children have watched 50 times tonight. I doubt you will enjoy it as much as they do, but it was a pretty clever idea. I'm rather proud Grace is developing her humor gene.

Video credit: Chad, shot on our hand held Flip Video and yes, we know the lighting sucks, but we're pretty impressed with our mad video skills, so don't burst our bubble.

Borrowing the blog?

2011-09-26T11:02:00.001-06:00

Chad wandered down to my office last night around 10:30 to make sure I was still alive. Before he left he paused to reach up and close the vent in the ceiling.

"What are you doing?"

"Closing the vent."

"Don't close the vent. I like it open."

"But you have your space heater on. I thought you were cold."

"I know I like the room to be really cold."

"But then you run the space heater?"

"Right, the space just around me is warm, but the room is really cold so I don't get too hot."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"That is so weird."

"Why is that weird? It's exactly like sleeping in a cold room with lots of blankets."

"No it's not. It's using two different electrical forces to cancel each other out."

"Not cancel each other. It's a symbiotic relationship."

"Can I borrow your blog?"

"Why?"

"Because you are saying crazy things right now and we should write it down."

Back in the swing of things...

2011-09-26T10:48:00.001-06:00

Today we resume normal life. Off track is fun. I love having the girls home, but getting back into our normal routine is good too.

This morning the house is clean and quiet. Everyone is off for the day. The dishwasher and washing machine are humming and I've accomplished a ton in only 2.5 short hours. I'm not showered and dressed yet, but that would really be pushing my luck on the first day. Productivity is like exercise - you have to pace yourself.

I took last week off to hang out with the girls in their last week of off-track. A whole week off and you know what I learned in that time? I like having time off. I like sleeping until 9. I like going somewhere with the kids everyday. I like going to Costco on a day other than Saturday. I like reading for the sake of reading. I like having no appointments, no clients, no nothing.

I did get a jump start on the week by spending a few hours last night catching up on things after my week off. Normally, I make the purposeful choice not to work on Sunday, but last night I hauled myself down to the computer to get a jump start because I was having serious return to work anxiety.

Rather than dreading it, I decided to just return to it and get it over with. In three hours, I worked through my emails, made a Monday to do list and knocked out an entire design doc for a client call today.

And you know what I learned? I like working. I like giving my brain hard problems to solve. I like creating something out of nothing. I like my clients. I like having a long list of things to accomplish and knowing that I can get 'em done. I like getting up and getting the day going (ok, well I like getting the day going.) I like having set things that have to happen in a day. I like the routine of working.

And I like to polarity of liking to work and liking not to work. I think it means I can always find a way to be happy. That's pretty good news for a Monday morning.

Sponge Bob Made Me Do It.

2011-09-13T12:49:00.001-06:00

Last night Chad and I were watching the news. I'm not sure why. We never watch the news.

But we watched the entire broadcast. I've now had all the horror, heroism and kitten stories I can stand.

There was a story about Sponge Bob. The premise of the story? Well, basically that Sponge Bob makes kids stupid. This is a shocking piece of news, is it not? Sponge Bob does not develop a child's intellect?!?! I could weep from the rocking my world has taken over this revelation.

I was sorting laundry as we watched and handed Chad a basket of whites.

"Will you go start these for me?"

"Sure."

I got back to sorting and the next time I turn around Chad is folding the whites.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"What?"

"Those are dirty. I said start them for me."

"Well I always fold things before I put them in."

"Always?"

"Not my fault, ok? I've watched a lot of Sponge Bob the past few years. It's made me stupid."

Alone is not a threat.

2011-09-12T14:51:00.001-06:00

I feel Fall coming on. Yay! Fall is my favorite, followed closely by Winter (both chronologically and in order of favoritness).

Chad and the girls hit Sniagrab last weekend. Hooray! What's Sniagrab you ask? It is Bargains spelled backwards and 'round these parts it is the mother of all sales that marks the onset of snowboarding season. Sniagrab is fast becoming a Daddy-daughter tradition. They are now outfitted for winter sports. Chad is a manaic for a $50 snowboard. I was kind of surprised when he only came home with one. He also outfitted the girls with coats and ski gloves (the kind that cannot be worn to school, under penalty of death). He got himself a new coat and made me play the guess how much game. I hate that game.

Apparently everyone will be going up to the mountain this year. Chad asks me everyday if I want to learn to ski. And everyday I respond that I know how to ski and I don't like it.

"But you don't really know."

"Yes, I've been twice. I hated it both times."

"But you didn't have the right stuff. We could get you better stuff."

"It's not about the stuff. Skiing is all things I don't like - wetness, heights, speed."

"You could take real lessons."

"Listen to me. No matter what you say I will never think strapping two popsicle sticks to my feet and going careening down a mountain is fun. Never."

"But if we all ski, then every Saturday, all winter long, for the rest of your life we will all go up into the mountain and you will be left alone. Alone in the house. All day."

He says that in all seriousness. He said this as if that were a bad thing. As if that were going to dissuade me from staying down here in the valley. As if the threat of loneliness were going to inspire me to take up skiing. It's like this boy doesn't know me at all.

My favorite thing is aloneness. I love the quiet of a house where no one is making noise. I like fixing myself a lunch that no one else will eat. I like curling up in my bed to read or watch a movie start to finish with the certainty that I will not be interrupted.

Oh silly boy, alone is not a threat. Alone is a reward. I love alone.

So Sniagrab to your little heart's content. Take the children and their tiny toothpick legs up into the mountains and I'll be right here when you come back. Waiting with a hot dinner on the table, after having spent a glorious day alone. :)

Bad Blogger

2011-09-12T14:38:00.002-06:00

Dear children,

I'm a bad blogger lately. Not because you are any less cute or interesting than you were this time last year. No you are just as cute, if not cuter and absolutely more interesting. But I'm busy and have had writer's block for several months.

This is my most persistent case of writer's block - ever. Waiting for it to pass isn't working, so I think I might have to write my way out. Writing my way out involves forcing myself to write even when the topics are meaningless. So get ready for posts about trains, planes, guys in airports and ... see I can't even think of anything to list.

Let me catch you up on the last few weeks...

Pain
I'm working with a new neurologist to get the headaches under control. They reached a fever pitch this spring. Day after day of the worst pain I've had in years and I'm used to living with a lot of pain, so that's really saying something. First I got mad. Then I got worried. Then I had an MRI that confirmed I still do not have any tumors, lesions or fluid on my brain. Then I was relieved that I was not, in fact, dying, Then I got mad again.

Anger inspires me, apparently, because it got me moving. I was determined to find a doctor who could help me.

After many years of testing out doctors, I may have finally found a good one. I like her. She seems smart and seems to understand that I am smart. She talks to me like I'm smart.

She can't answer the question of why I have all this pain, other than to say I have chronic pain and it sucks. But maybe, just maybe, we can figure out how to make it suck less.

I've been working with her for 2 months and had 18 pain free days last month. 18!!! It's kind of a miracle. I haven't had 18 pain free days in years.

At my last appointment she told me her goal was to get me to the point of having a headache once every 2-3 months. I didn't even know what to say to that. "Does that sound good?" she said. "That sounds astounding," I said.

Good days make the bad days worse. It's weird, actually. I would have thought that any good days would be great. That I'd be happy if I could just get 2 or 3 in a row. But getting a taste of good days makes the bad days feel a thousand times more defeating. So I find myself making a greater effort to be positive and hopeful, to exercise my faith as I face what is inevitably a very long road to getting all this pain under control. But 18 days. Wow.

Cub O Ree
We survived another Cub O Ree. Holy cow Cub O Ree is so much work. The kitchen looked horrible last week as we worked every night, cutting drilling and assembling catapults. Sawdust on the floor, on the table - ugh. The girls asked me if we were ever going to eat at the table again.

But we did it. Chad did a ton of work helping me get ready. We had a great turn out. Friday night we got over 90 boys through the Engineering class and they passed off everything that needed to be done to complete that activity.

I worried about Saturday. We had to run two booths this year, and I was nervous that we wouldn't have any help. I was proven so very wrong. There was someone from every ward there during their assigned time to help us staff those booths. It was awesome.

We went to lunch on Saturday after the event was over and I was talking to Chad about different booths we could do next year. "Why are we talking about this now?"chad asked.

"I just think we should do some new stuff next year."

"It's a year away. We haven't even unpacked the car yet."

So true. But I still had my scout shirt on and when you've got the shirt on you just keep thinking.

Warm Air
The air conditioner broke last Friday. Chad came home early to help me with Cub O Ree and it was 82 in the house. He started trying to figure out what was wrong. Chad and I said a few snippy things to each other. Then the AC repair guy came out and had the thing fixed in about 5 mins. Some part in the outdoor unit had gone bad. "It's normal," Repair guy says. "They wear out. You have to replace them every 20 years or so."

Every 20 years? Or 6. This AC is 6 years old. The 20 year part wore out in 6 years. Sigh. Of course it did.

5 mins. $450.

Ice
The icemaker in the fridge broke recently too. When I called to schedule the repair they asked me if I was sure it was broken. "Well I'm not SURE, but now instead of making ice it just spits water out all over the inside of the freezer. That water freezes and I have to use a metal spatula to scrape it out." I'm no expert, but I'd call that broken.

First we just tried to live without ice. That lasted about a week. You don't realize how much you use something until you don't have it.

Then we bought bagged ice for a couple of weeks. That wasn't bad. But bagged ice doesn't regenerate itself, which is a bummer.

Finally I got around to calling the repair man. He came. It took him about 5 mins to fix it. It cost...
Oh you guessed it $450.

I'm sensing a theme here.

So to tie this all up...I'm looking forward to a life of managed pain in which I will not have to plan major cub scout events and will be able to sit in a cool house, sipping iced beverages.

Hmmm...all that writing and I don't think it made a dent in my writer's block. But if I wait 5 mins, I'll probably pay myself $450, so that's something.

Love,
Your mother

Name Thief

2011-08-23T11:51:00.001-06:00

Brynn's reading skills are growing leaps and bounds every day. She's sounding out words and thinking a lot about sounds. She read almost an entire verse of scripture by herself the other night. We about fell off our chairs.

Last night as we sat at the table to do her homework she hit me with this:

B: "MOM! (she frequently has an idea hit her brain and gets really excited to share it with everyone -wonder where she gets that from?) "My name has a thief in it!"

L: "What?"

B: "My name has a thief in it. The y is stealing the i sound. Br - iiiiiiii - nn. (sounding it out)"

L: "Very cool."

B: "Oh yeah, and it has a silent n."

She has this contended look on her face as she let out a long, dreamy sigh. I guess having a thief AND a silent n is like having your wildest dreams come true.

Then she resumed her homework...

She cracks me up.

Clean room. Bad attitude.

2011-08-22T15:27:00.000-06:00

For my birthday present, Brynn decided to clean her room.

Please note, I did tell Brynn to clean her room. I told her everyday for 6 straight days, but I did not tell Brynn to clean her room as a gift to me. No no, SHE came up with the idea. SHE started working on it and then SHE realized what a complete disaster it was a wanted to throw in the towel. Not that the room needed another towel, there were already at least two dirty ones on the floor, but I digress.

Please also note that I'm fairly easy going about the room cleaning, it just needs to be done once a week. If you wait until the last day, then you will have a lot of work to do If you do it little by little, more power to you. If you do it once and the remove all the contents of your closet and set them on your floor - then you have officially UNcleaned your room and you must clean it again.

This is just how room cleaning works. I do not make the rules.

(Ok well I do, but I would like the children to think that there are global rules that govern room cleaning and while I'm not the dictator who made them up, I am the dictator that enforces them...)

So Brynn, last day of the week, after 6 straight days of being told to clean her room decided to GIVE me a clean room for my birthday. That happiness lasted about 7.2 minutes.

She hunted me down, "Do you need the whole room to be clean for your birthday?"

"Yes, the whole room."

"Ugh!" She let out a very irratated, heaving breath. "I HATE this birthday present!!"

"I like my birthdays, every one..."

2011-08-22T10:21:00.000-06:00

Lisa, 5 yrs

I love my birthday. I really, really do. I love all birthdays, but mine is particularly wonderful. I don't ever really want anything for my birthday, I just want to feel loved. And I got a lot of love this year.

Chad brought me a red velvet bundt cake on Friday and told me not to save it. Just crack it open and enjoy my birthday weekend, so we did. Yummers.

My actual birthday was on a Sunday, so we went to church. Getting out the door was a bit stressful. We were running late and I really hate being late for church. "How late were you?" my brother in law asked over dinner. "5 mins?"

"Yes, 5 mins."

"Oh please, 5 minutes is still considered on time. We're always 5 mins late."

I don't care. I still don't like it.

After a lovely day of church and several well wishes from good friends, we came home and made lunch for the girls. I talked to my parents on the the phone and was serenaded with a slightly off-key version of Happy Birthday. I opened a lovely gift they had sent, which included a card from Barack Obama (because he's totally my favorite president ever - not) and a Hickory Farms Beef Stick (about which I'm still laughing, but will describe in a later post).

I changed out of my church dress, laid in my bed and ate cake for lunch - which you are totally allowed to do on your birthday.

Chad came home and helped the girls make a birthday cake we could take to dinner with us, which they thought was so fun and wonderful. I made the frosting, but they did everything else. The three amigos also learned the valuable life lesson - don't frost a hot cake.

'Why?" Chad asks.

"A hot cake will melt the frosting," I say.

"Really?"

"Frosting is mainly butter. Butter melts."

"That makes so much sense."

We drove to Chad's parents with the cake on the floor of the car and all the cold air vents blasting it. Somehow it made it with minimal melting. A birthday miracle :)

Denise (Chad's mom) made a lovely dinner for everyone and I do mean everyone. With the addition of grandchild number 10 earlier this month, we are officially 20 people - 10 adults, 10 kids. It's wonderful and very loud...we sat out on the deck and ate it on paper plates. Because no one should have to do dishes for that many people no matter what day it is.

We celebrated my nephew, Cooper's 4th birthday (Aug 20) with a cake and a couple of presents. He was completely thrilled with the attention. It was very cute. We cut his funfetti cake and fed it to all the kids.

Once they were all settled we celebrated my birthday, complete with another red velvet bundt cake (apparently my love for this cake is making a name for itself.) If you are lost count, I'm now up to three birthday cakes - Chad's red velvet, Chad and the girls' homemade cake and the red velvet for the family dinner. Thankfully, I'm a big fan of cake. Big fan.

I got several sweet notes and cards and a magazine of dream home floor plans, which Jenny wouldn't let anyone look through before she gave it to me, so it wouldn't be used :)

My phone buzzed every few minutes all day with texts and Facebook posts from thoughtful friends. And while I know most of these people wouldn't remember it was my birthday without the Facebook reminder, I don't care, they still took a moment to send good thoughts and that makes me feel very special.

I love birthdays. You should feel special and loved on your birthday. People you love should use the day to say that they are happy you are alive, (which my people did), you should get to eat cake (which it did) and you should wear really great shoes (which I did, red wedges in fact that rival few other pairs for the title of my favorite shoes).

Love. Cake. Shoes. A pretty near perfect birthday.

Sweetness, Porcupines and a glimpse of the future

2011-08-13T22:33:00.002-06:00

An update on my not-so-baby, Grace...

The other day in the car, Grace took the ear buds out of her ears and said:

"hey Mom, you know what?"

L: "What, baby girl?"

G: "Sometimes I listen to a song on my iPod, you know one I always skip, just to see if I like it and you know what?"

L: "What?"

G: "When I listen to it, then it turns into my favorite song!!"

L: "You know what? I do that too!"

G: "You do? Wow, we must be related."

Grace had to memorize a poem for her class, the 4th verse of the Star Spangled Banner. She remembers first grade where memorizing poems was a bear for her, but she's come along way since then. I've also come a long way. I know her better, so I know better what will help her. We put the words to a beat and memorized them to clapping, then when she had the basics down, we made up an action for each line. (Thank you Primary General Board for that great training about how to teach song - that's really helped my mothering.)

We practiced it with the actions for a while and then the week she had to recite it in class we stopped doing the actions and I just did an action if she got stuck or needed a prompt.

She was doing great and I could tell she was going to be fine, but she was nervous and she kept saying things like "I'll never be able to do this...when I get up I think I'll faint...I'm not smart enough...This is too hard..."

For a while I was saying in response like "You'll be fine...You won't faint...You can totally do this...You are really smart..." And then I stopped saying those things and I said "You listen to me, you have to stop saying negative things. If you tell you brain something is hard, your brain will believe you. You can't psyche yourself out. You have to say positive things to yourself. You have worked hard and you can do this. Now you have to train your brain to be confident."

The night before her assigned poem-recitation day, I sent her to get ready for bed. In the summer part of her bedtime routine is to sit on the edge of the tub and wash her feet (if she would keep her shoes on her feet probably wouldn't be black as soot at night, but I digress...). I was in the hall and I heard her practicing.

I peeked into the bathroom and saw her sitting with her back to me. She was wearing a long sleeve pink pj shirt with the arms pushed up, and had the legs of her pink, blue and white snowflake pj pants rolled up around her thighs. I stood to listen, knowing that she didn't know I was watching her.

She was going great until she got to a part where she often gets tripped up and she stumbled a bit. Then I hear her say out loud to herself "Grace, relax. It's fine. It's ok to mess up. If you tell your brain it is hard, it will be hard. Tell your brain you can do it. You can do it. Now relax and try again."

And she started again finishing it flawlessly.

What a lovely moment. A sweet little glimpse into a future where she is strong and confident and all grown up.

The afternoon of her poem, I had a really important client call, so I had the french doors leading into my office shut when the girls came home. I could hear Grace upstairs for a few minutes and finally she came barreling down the stairs and knocked on the glass. I waved and pointed to my headset to indicate I was on the phone. She had a huge smile on her face, as she waved a little piece of paper and then bent down and slid it under the door.

I walked over to grab it. It was a little note, written on one of Chad's business cards that I keep in the kitchen. It read:

Dear Mom,

I got an A+ on my peom.

Love,

Grace

She did it. A+. And yes she spelled poem - peom. :)

"I was nervous," she told me later. "But I just told myself I could do it and I did it."

There's something lovely and perfect about her right now. I see her growing up literally before my eyes. She's happy and funny. She had a tender soul. She's noisy and mousy. Blusterous and gentle. She's the perfect mix of independent and reliant on me.

She's making a conscious effort to be responsible. She is serious about homework and practicing her karate. She keeps important dates on her calendar. Wants to pack her own lunch.

She's excited to take on jobs that make her feel big. A neighbor of ours asked if her first grade daughter could walk home with Grace and Brynn, but she didn't ask me, she asked Grace. She asked Grace specifically to be responsible for the staying with her daughter and making sure she gets to the corner.

Grace has taken the task very seriously. She's asked me lots of questions, running what if after what if scenario. What if she gets behind us? What if she gets ahead? What if she doesn't meet us at the tree? What if she falls down? What if she doesn't want to walk with us? We've rehearsed a contingency plan for every scenario she can come up with and she's armed with seriousness and responsibility.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes she is a porcupine. But when she's being a brat, or I'm being a brat I try to remember my mom's advice that the brattiest among us need the most hugs. So I scoop her into my arms as often as I can every day.

I try to tell myself that porcupines are furry - it you can just get past the quills.

Mostly I just pray - for her and for myself. For wisdom in raising her. For insight into her needs. For even more love for her.

And I feel it - oozing out of me in every direction.

Happy Birthday

2011-08-02T08:00:00.000-06:00


Sunday at the park, July 2010

Happy Birthday, you lovely soul.

A few signs you might be aging...

2011-08-01T21:24:00.000-06:00

...you are reading US Weekly on the airplane and there are at least 3 people on every page you do not know. Not just "oh yeah, I don't really watch that show..." No, like never heard of them, never heard of their show, never seen 'em, and really dismayed that they let such young girls wear such short skirts in magazines.

...when you call to schedule a hair appointment, your hair dresser no longer asks if you also need to have it colored. He just knows you do AND when you arrive the color is already mixed and waiting. The day I say, no no, I'm going to sport the skunk stripe look for a while, well that is the day that is going to BLOW HIS MIND.

....You pick up a copy of Harvard Business Review and get really jazzed about an article on Hyperspecialization. You try to engage those around you in a discussion of why they author failed to ask the most important question of all - if you can always find an expert and contract specifically with them, then how do individuals develop expertise?? You become very frustrated when no one around you seems to get equally exicted about both the concept and the major oversight. You don't care that the people around you are 6, they should be concerned about what the corporate landscape will be in 2040 and if hyperspecialization is indeed a trend, they are pretty much hosed.

...After the hyperspecilization episode you will wonder why, why you don't subscribe to HBR (that's what the cool kids call it).

yeah...so I'm not saying I'm old. I'm not. But I am maturing, everyday - one gray hair and innovative business model at a time.

Karate News

2011-07-28T07:06:00.000-06:00

Grace promoted again, this time to a brown belt with yellow stripe! She's really kick butt at karate (pun totally intended)!

But that's not even the best news. Grace's karate school is starting and elite demo team called the SWAT team. SWAT gives demonstrations and also represents the school in competitions. You have to be good at karate, responsible and serious about the commitment to even be invited to try out.

Grace was thrilled to be invited. She learned the try out form in less than a week (4 days actually - thanks for a good, patient Daddy who helped her break it down and practice it). Her try out was the same night a the ballet concert, so we split kid duty, but according to Chad's report she knocked that form out stone cold during the audition. She was loud, fiery, precise and intense! She really gave it her all.

They promised to post the results by the following morning, but she and Chad drove by the studio that night hoping it would be on the door. And it was. So in the headlights of his car, Chad snapped the following picture:

Grace pointing to her name on the results list

SHE MADE IT!!!

We are so proud of her. She's already working hard and practicing a ton to get ready for her first competition in November.

Ballet Recital, otehrwise known as we HATE mascara

2011-07-28T07:05:00.002-06:00

Brynn had her ballet recital at the end of June. Gone were the nerves of recitals past. She was excited, ready, knew her dance, and determined, dare I say, hell-bent, to smile the whole performance.

And smile she did.

She appeared from the dark folds of the curtains and I bet you could see her smile on the moon. Her face was literally beaming. She was long and graceful and my heart nearly burst with pride, because I know the fear she has overcome.

She looked beautiful, but getting her to the fully made up state was a bit of a challenge. She kind of freaks out when you approach her eyes with any sort of makeup implement. I'm not faulting her strong survival instincts, but geez...its mascara, it's not going to kill you.

For your viewing pleasure I present a photo essay, entitled

"But Mom, I HATE mascara!!!"

Step 1- eye shadow, drama brewing

Step 2 - first mascara attempt

Step 3 - helping Brynn learn to open her eyes wider, note: does not work, she closes her eyes and just opens her mouth

RECOIL!!!

Trying again

Profile of the finished product. Could you just eat her? Ah, she's so gorgeous.

And a ballet pose for good measure!

She was standing on a step stool, by the way. She's very tall for 6, but she's not 5' 7". That would be Guinness book of world records tall and who needs that kind of notoriety?

Get ready for a series of catching up posts...

2011-07-28T07:00:00.000-06:00

Because funny things happened this summer between our vacation and starting school...I just never had time to write about them.

The First Day of School Two-Day Extravaganza!!!!!

2011-07-27T11:28:00.001-06:00

Two days - we got two first days of school around here.

Yesterday, I sent this beauty out into the wonderful world of 5th grade.

Grace, 10, first day of 5th grade

5th grade! She had some nerves on Monday night. I fell asleep before she did. We did a fair bit of snuggling that night, but no matter what I said I couldn't drag the words "I'm nervous about school" out of her. Not an emotional communicator this one, no words, just shrugs and tears and a lot of mother mind reading. We eventually got her settled in for the night, but in the morning woke to her sleeping on our floor, so she must have had some midnight worries.

Despite all the nerms, the first day was great. Getting ready was easy, she bounded out of the house with excitement. We met her teacher on back to school morning, and as we listened to the teach talk about how 5th grade is the time to be responsible for yourself she looked at me with wide eyes and mouthed "wow!"

"You're ready." I mouthed back.

And she is. She's ready.

At dinner last night she talked non stop. Non-stop! Pretty good for a non-communicator. Here are the highlights:

She got the teacher she was hoping for and the teacher is so cool
They have new folders
Her desk is in a good place
They were so busy working they were late for recess this morning!
She has some good friends in her class
She might get to be on safety patrol
She has so many spelling words this week, but she only missed a few on the pretest
No planners until August because the planners were not made for year round school

Finally, I made her come up for air and eat her dinner.

Brynn, 6, on Meet the Teacher Day

On the first day of school, all Brynn got to do was go in for a 1 hour orientation and meet her teacher. Totally unfair, totally ... I know because she told me 50 times yesterday how totally unfair it all was. Everyone else gets to go to school. She only gets to go for an hour. Totally. Unfair.

But her teacher is lovely, her classroom is cute and she has her own desk! That's right, with a tote tray and everything.

It was all wonderful and exciting, but as Tuesday wore on a few nerms set in. What is lunch like? How do you know where to go? What if you get lost? What if you can't find your sister at the end of the day? What if you forget which tree to meet at for the walk home?

And the biggest worries of all - do you learn good things in 1st grade or is it like kindergarten where you learn stupid things like letters?

I did my best to assuage her 1st grade worries, but prepared her for the possibility that they would spend a few days, at least, working on stupid things like letters.

After dinner last night, she laid on the living room floor drawing. "What are you drawing?"I asked.

"A picture of the tree where I'm supposed to meet Grace. I'm going to put it in my backpack, so if I forget where to go I can pull it out and remember."

Genius.

Brynn, 6, first day of 1st grade

This morning, was Brynn's real first day of school and boy, was she excited.

In past years, Grace has always needed someone to wait with her for the first few days while she gets used to the new routine. So Chad and I both walked them to school this morning. I took Brynn to the first grade doors for line up and Chad followed Grace to the 5th grade doors. Brynn found her line, dropped her bag and begged to go to the playground before the bell rang.

Next thing I know, I turn around and Chad is standing behind me.

L: "Where's Grace?"

C: "She wanted to be with her friends. She said she'd see me later."

Um, what? Did we just get the brush off from out 10 year old. wow.

C: "Where's Brynn?"

L: "Playing on the playground before the bell rings."

C: "So much for nerves."

The bell rang, Brynn hopped in her line. Backpack on. Big smile. Waved goodbye and marched off to a new world.

And there Chad and I were, left alone, standing on the blacktop. No baby stroller. No one clinging to our legs. No one crying.

So we went out to breakfast.

At breakfast, Chad promised to text me some questions throughout the day, so I wouldn't get lonely. I was on the phone with a client and I got the following five texts:

"When does Grace get home?"

"I'm bored..."

"Can I make a tent?"

"Can I crawl under your desk?"

"Can I have a popsicle?"

And here I am. Quiet house with a very full to do list. I'm not asking myself what I'll do all day. I know what I'll do. I'll work - in PEACE! I'll focus and not have to shush anyone out of my office while I'm on the phone. But even though I've been looking forward to this day for months, it is still a tad bittersweet.

My babies are off. Finding their way. But they are ready. And I am ready.

walk to school, July 2011

Happy 14th Anniversary, for real this time!

2011-07-19T07:00:00.006-06:00

Duck, NC, June 2010

Summer's in full swing. Recently, we drove home after helping out around my mom's house. We'd been outside, so I was hot, but the on the ride home we ran the AC and it cooled right off.

It was quite pleasant actually.

When we got home, Chad and two sleepy girls hopped out of the car and headed in, as I moved to the driver's seat to for a trip to the grocery store.

As I was backing the car down the driveway, I started to feel so hot again. Really hot. We hadn't even turned the car off, so how in the world could get it so hot in that seat so quickly?

Then I realized that as he was driving, Chad had pointed all the vents toward the passenger seat, toward me. He had done most of the outside work, so he must has been hottest of all, but Chad drove all the way home without a single air vent pointed his direction. That kind of selflessness is so Chad.

Being married to someone like that makes you so much better. When someone treats you with that much kindness and love, you work that much harder to reciprocate. He'll try to tell you he is living up to my standard, but the truth is I'm trying to live up to his.

For the kindest, most selfless person I've even known, here's to 14 more Happy Anniversaries.

Much Love,
L

You thought I was dead didn't you...

2011-07-18T14:00:00.000-06:00

well, the good news is I'm not dead. Suppose that could be the bad news, depending on your perspective, but if the fact that I am alive is indeed bad news to you, then why are you reading my blog? Gotcha.

Ok, good news I'm not dead. Bad news I've been trying to devote more time to sleeping. Yes, in fact I'm asleep every night by about 10:30 now. Apparently if you have letters after your name I will do anything you tell me to do, because this renewed sense of priority I'm now assigning to sleep was forced upon my by the medical community. And though forced it has in fact turned out to be pretty darn awesome. I am now in bed and ASLEEP, by 10:30 every night and all aspects of my life are benefiting.

Well all areas but 2. Yes, two areas of my life are actually suffering because of this renewed emphasis on sleep.

#1 my grocery shopping. I never really put it all together before, but I shop at night. Late at night, when potatoes are covered and stockboys are wheeling pallets into the aisle, when they turn off the lights inside the freezers and they block that second exit with shopping carts, yes, that's when you will find me trolling the aisle for foodstuffs. So now that I'm unconscious during my regular shopping time - we have no food.

I did manage to make it to the grocery store once during regular hours and it was disorienting. Oh so bright and oh so crowded. "Why aren't you all in bed?" I wondered. Then I remembered it was 11 AM instead of 11 PM.

I haven't figured out how to work grocery shopping into my new life. As a result, at least two meals a day at my house involve cold cereal right now. The milkman brings milk to my house, you'll remember. Yes, indeedy, I have a milkman. Love that guy.

#2 blogging. Yep, sad but true. Then only writing coming off this computer right now is the writing I'm getting paid for. And since I'm not being paid to blog - sleep trumps blogging.

But Lisa, aren't you blogging right now?

Stop over analyzing the blog.

Yes, I'm trying to get back into it. I guess I used to think about my blogging at night, but now that I'm asleep I don't think about it, therefore, I don't have a post worked out in my head when I wake up, therefore, I do not wake up and write a quick post, therefore, I plan to think about it during the day, but am very busy with work, therefore, I do not have time to think about it during the day, therefore, I plan to think about it at night, but instead find myself in a medically induced coma, therefore, no blogging.

Whew. This post brought to you by conjunction junction.

Therefore is actually a conjunctive adverb, isn't it? I don't care, you will still be singing that song at bedtime tonight. You're welcome.

So what's the point? The point is, I'm feeling more rested and made a list of things to blog about. So far there are only two things on that list, but if nothing else I'll find some other school house rock videos to fill the time :)

a decade

2011-06-28T15:59:00.000-06:00

As of 6:21 PM, I will have been mothering for a decade. It feels like 10 years has gone by in the same amount of time it takes to yawn or breath or tie my shoes.

Happy birthday, Grace, you lovely little thing you.

Outerbanks 2011 - Until next time....

2011-06-17T13:06:00.000-06:00

the moon rising over OBX

Outerbanks 2011- Family Pictures

2011-06-17T13:04:00.000-06:00

Every year we say, "let's try to get the family picture done early this year." And every year we wait until the last day and then after dinner we all get dressed and haul ourselves down to the beach and somehow we manage to pull it off.

Outerbanks 2011 - Food Finds

2011-06-17T13:03:00.000-06:00

There are things to eat in OBX besides donuts. This year Chad and I really wanted to try a Carolina BBQ place and we found a great one. Corolla Village BBQ in the shadow of Currituck Lighthouse was a winner. It is a little tiny place and you either take your food with you or sit at the picnic tables under the trees out front.

Essentially there are three things on the menu - pulled pork, BBQ ribs and BBQ chicken and it was all delicious. I had a Pulled Pork sandwich which they top with coleslaw. Normally, I put coleslaw just one step above eggnog on the scale of disgusting things I will not be consuming, but you have to try something the way it is meant to be tried, so I had my sandwich with coleslaw and it was delicious.

Grace had the chicken which she inhaled all the while proclaiming "this chicken changed my life!"

That was the day Brynn was having a series of moments that would culminate in kite flying, so I had my hands too full with her to get any good pics, but in my minds eye I see great images of us sitting on rickety old picnic tables under huge trees. They would have been lovely pictures.

We also found a seafood/BBQ restaurant, which is totally not weird in North Carolina, called Fat Crabs BBQ Company. It was yummers. It is ultra casual - as in if you want a drink feel free to get one out of the cooler. Their specialty is Caroline Blue Crabs, which makes sense, but I don't know how to eat those, so we had other things which were also delicious. They made excellent hush puppies and if you have only had a hush puppy from Long John Silver's then you really haven't had a hush puppy.

I'm thinking that next trip I'll have a donut in the morning and hush puppies for lunch. Then I'll probably need a Lipator for dinner, but it'll be worth it.

Outerbanks 2011 - Boogy boarding

2011-06-17T12:49:00.000-06:00

This year we let the kids try real boogy boarding - not surprisingly Grace LOVES it and is really good. Seriously, give that kid a board snow, boogy - doesn't matter, she'll school that thing. I think next trip she should try surfing, because what is cooler than a girl surfer? Exactly, nothing.

made it to shore

waiting for a wave

caught a good one

awesome!

Outerbanks 2011 - Scenes from the Beach

2011-06-17T12:37:00.000-06:00

Grace dug herself a hole for lounging

buried legs

buried bod

hanging out in the big hole

starting a new hole. Holes were a big theme on this trip...

working together, probably on digging holes

The best part of a beach vacation is our course the beach. However, we have now been home a week and I'm still sweeping sand off of our floor, so it is also the worst part of a the beach vacation. Seriously, how did so much sand come home with us? Crazy.

Outerbanks 2011 - Scenes from the Pool

2011-06-17T12:19:00.000-06:00

When you come back from the beach, we find it best to transition back to dry life by swimming in the pool for an hour of two. Reduces that mainlander shock on the system. To say we spent a lot of time in the pool is an egregious understatement.

Thanks to their month of swimming lessons pre-trip, my girls did great. They were fish. But my favorite moment, grinning with his huge ear to ear smile, my nephew Chase who ventured from the baby pool into the real pool with his little swimmy, calling out with joyful pride "I'M SWIIIIMMMMMING!! I'M SWIIIIMMMMMING!"

When we weren't swimming in the pool we were sitting by it. A couple of people insisted on reading, but the rest of us took our responsibility for making sure those lounge chairs didn't go anywhere very seriously.

Outerbanks 2011 - Games, Games, and more...Games

2011-06-17T08:00:00.002-06:00

When we weren't holding down beach chairs, we played a lot this year.

Football on the Beach

Oh I love him...

The boys talked for weeks about football on the beach. Last trip they used a nerf ball, which soaked with water every time it landed in the ocean. Apparently, that lacks the aerodynamic quality that helps make football fun. So this year we found the perfect football. After watching them play for a while, I asked Chad why they kept deliberately throwing it out into the water. I was told that throwing yourself into the waves is what makes it fun. Boys...

Kickball
Jen brought a red playground ball and organized us into a couple of teams for kickball. I think the last time I played kickball I was in the third grade, so my skills were not exactly at their peak. I tried hard though. After one rather brilliant kick (i.e. my foot connected with the ball), everyone thought I tried to slide into first base, so I let them think that. It's much less cool to say you fell when the fear of your 11 year old nephew hitting you with a red playground ball became too much to handle.

The teams started out pretty even, but over the "innings" people our on team kept jumping ship. Lots of pitiful excuses like they were "busy digging a big hole" or "tending their kids" - whatever. After the game, Chad patted my sandy back. "Wow, you were really going for it out there. That ball was coming right for you and you actually tried to catch it." Gee, thanks. He swears he meant it as a compliment.

Basketball

The boys also thought it would be good to get in a game of hoops. Not much to say about this, since I was not invited to play. Sure my efforts on the kickball field were a little questionable, but I was running on sand and vicious children were trying to hit me with a ball. Never an excuse for gender discrimination.

Marco Polo

Just the pool, not the actual pool games...

Again, Jen inspired, we spent an afternoon playing Marco Polo in the pool. Essentially, too many people, too small of a pool, too many kids who all want to be it, so they spend their time trying to get tagged. That game lasted a few rounds, but then Amelia introduced us to...

Sharks and Minnows
It took a round or two to hammer out the rules (and weed out the children), but once we did the adults were locked in an epic battle. Essentially, one person is the shark. They close their eyes and swim around trying to tag everyone else, the minnows. The minnows try to swim from one end of the pool to the other. If you get tagged then you are frozen in your place and become a shark. You must also close your eyes and though you can't swim around, you can move your arms and try to tag other people.

Turns out, I'm awesome and sharks and minnows. No seriously, awesome. I swim fast and quietly and I can pretty much hold my breath from one end of the pool to the other. Plus I'd wait for the shark to tire his/her self out a little before I tried to cross. A tired shark is a much less formidable opponent.

We had so much fun. We must have played for an hour and I made it into the top 2 every time. I'm pretty darn proud of myself, because this is a competitive, physical, active family I married into and I lose at everything that's not Scrabble. So finally, finally a physical game where I can kick their trash. I'm thinking of building a pool, just so I can invite everyone over to play sharks and minnows and win some more! :)

Outerbanks 2011 - Crabbing

2011-06-16T08:00:00.002-06:00

Jake, Grace, Tanner or as Copper would call them Yellow one, Grace, Green one :)

Crabbing is a family favorite. Crabbing is like fishing except for you catch crabs and you don't need hooks, because crabs bring their own.

down by the bay

Uncle John, Liv, Brynn and Chad

The bait shop gave us fish heads instead of turkey necks this year. We all agree that fish heads are much more disgusting bait and next time we will ask for turkey necks. Sweet Uncle John really rallied and baited all 8 lines with fish heads for the grandchildren who were completely disgusted out. :)

We started off a little slower this year, but once we got going, the crabs were flying. Crabs are tricky because as they feel themselves being pulled out of the water they let go. That's not entirely bad, as we are catch and release crabbers, but it makes it hard for all the little kids to see the crabs.

A couple of times we managed to fling them up onto the dock so the kids could get a good look at they scampered across the wood and plopped back into the water.

Greetings you little Carolina Blue Crab

The first time he saw a crab scamper across the deck headed for his mother, my nephew Cooper (4 years) took off his flip flop and went after that thing with a vengeance. He was going to beat the tar out of that poor crab, luckily the crab was faster.

Uncle B and Cooper - laying down was somebody's good idea to help little ones see the crabs without falling in!

Bigger people also found it effective crabbing posture - Parker

Chase maintaining a safe distance from the weirdness

Brynn and Grandma

Liv and Grandma

Uncle B's legs, Aunt Jen, assorted grandchlidren

Me!

By the time the last crab got tossed up on the dock everyone had decided to try and get the crab to take their bait. Next thing you know, poor crabbie is getting the snot beat out of him with eight, well intentioned fish heads. He hunkered down and we called for a community backing off of the crab. Then brave Aunt Amelia, screaming the whole time, picked that traumatized crab up and tossed it back in the bay.

Don't worry, the crab is fine, but I'm expecting a call any day from his lawyer. Underwater creatures are so litigious. I'm pretty sure he'll be seeking punitive damages.

Outerbanks 2011 - Vacation Hair

2011-06-16T08:00:00.001-06:00

Brynn gets the best beach hair. That bit of humidity in the air makes her hair go so curly. This trip is the longest it has ever been, though and the first day at the beach Brynn brought me this ....

A knot she pulled out of her hair! Eeek.

Grace's hair fared only slightly better that first day, so we loaded their heads up with conditioner and Aunt Annie and Aunt Jen took it upon themselves to french braid the girl's hair everyday. (I can't french braid. Shameful, I know.)

Brynn rocking the classic 2 braid look

Grace sported your more avant garde look of 3 braids

It helped tremendously, plus whenever Brynn took her hair out of the braids she was rocking the most awesome 80s perm.

Outerbanks 2011 - Disparate Tempature

2011-06-16T08:00:00.000-06:00

Something was up with the HVAC in the beach house this year. Some rooms were really hot, but our room was really cold. Like bone chilling cold...don't believe me?

When we took the camera from our room, out to the deck - the lens fogged!

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

2011-06-15T13:09:00.000-06:00

We had Subway for dinner last night. The saving Grace of a mother too sick too cook. I waited in the car while Chad and the girls went in and got everything. A few mins later Brynn came to the door arms full of Gatorade, chips, napkins, etc. It was quite a load for such a tiny thing.

She pushed the door open with her backside and stood holding it open for Grace and Chad. She looked in my direction and flashed me a giant, toothless grin and then started wiggling her tongue in the air. When she climbed in the car, she was all excited...

"Did you see me mom? Did you? My arms were too full, so I waved with my tounge!!"

Outerbanks 2011 - Duck Donuts

2011-06-15T11:35:00.000-06:00

You know I like donuts, but there is something about a Duck Donut that surpasses even my wildest donut fantasies. I think it helps that you can only get them in Duck, NC and you spend 2 years dreaming about them. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

Every morning, after feeding everyone a real breakfast, we made a quick sojourn to Duck Donuts.

Behind the store in the edge of the bay is a boardwalk/deck with places to sit and consume. Because the store is so tiny, we take orders, some parents go in and order and the rest of us go out back and do important things like take pictures, compare flip flops, look for birds (an amazing red cardinal lives close by and is a frequent boardwalk visitor) and try to keep the little children from running away or climbing over the railing.

Then once we are all good and sticky, we head off...

If you are ever in the neighborhood, we recommend the following donut combos from Duck -

Maple (just straight up, don't pollute it with anything)
Chocolate and peanuts
Chocolate and coconut
Strawberry and rainbow sprinkles
Chocolate and rainbow sprinkles
and
Cinnamon-Sugar

Outerbanks 2011 - Flying to a new low

2011-06-15T11:02:00.002-06:00

I planned to blog every day on our trip, but then I got there and pretty much the last thing on Earth I felt like doing was writing anything, so instead I took 329 pictures. Yes, I spent the week moonlighting as a photo journalist. Of those 329 there are about 5 of me. It's not much, but at least it proves I was there. And that's something.

I'd like to begin the vacation recap with the untold story of kite-flying. Every time we have visited OBX (that's the Outerbanks abbreviation for you mainlanders) we have purchased kites and spent glorious, cool, breezy evenings on the beach flying them. They are some of our sweetest OBX memories. This year we decided not to buy new kites, so sweet Daddy-Chad hand carried the kites to North Carolina after we discovered they were too long to fit inside the suitcase.

look I was there!

Finally, the night of kite flying arrived. The weather seemed right, the evening water was a bit too cold to swim, yes, we would fly kites and relive the glories of years past.

Grace got her kite in the air. She let it out little by little until it was a tiny speck in the atmosphere. She manned it, maneuvered it, was completely enthralled and had a great time. Kite glory.

The rest of us?

Um, not so much.

Brynn had been having a rough day. Tired, cranky, crying a lot. I think she'd hit the vacation wall. Turns out an evening on the beach had the opposite effect we were hoping for. Instead of having fun and turning the day around, flying that kite sent Brynn into some kind of unholy beach death spiral.

She and Chad got her kite in the air and she flew it for about 2 minutes.

B: "Can I sit down?"

Lisa: "Sure. Can I take your picture?"

That was the last smile of the evening.

B: "Come take my kite. It's too heavy for my arms."

So I took it and flew it for a while as Brynn stomped around the beach kicking sand.

L: "Find some pretty shells to take home."

So she did, handfuls that were soon too big to carry. So she started a pile on the beach, but then she walked away from it and couldn't find it again. Crying!

B: "I left my shells in a pile, right next to a heap of sand and now I can't find them...help me mom. Find them. They are right next to a pile of sand."

Dude, it's the beach. The whole thing is a pile of sand, but I handed off the kite to Chad and tried to find the shells. No luck of course, searching for a non descript pile of sand over a three mile stretch of beach.

looking for the lost shells - see how happy we are?

Chad, after looking at Brynn's face, said "We're close to done, aren't we?" We were indeed, so he began rolling in the kite. Brynn and I gave up on finding her old pile of shells and went to work on finding new shells, some of us more enthusiastic about this plan than others.

So I'm looking, my back to the water, for great shells that will assuage her grief when I hear a blood curdling scream and Brynn begin to WAIL.

As Chad was rolling in her kite, a gust of when caught it and it crashed into the ocean. Chad valiantly ran out and saved it, crisis averted, but Brynn would not be consoled.

Through her wailing you could hear things like "the one thing I didn't want was for my kite to crash in the ocean. Now it's wet and disgusting. Did it get sand on it? Oh, it's ruined, it's ruined."

Chad looked at me and we both started laughing, silently of course, the way parents laugh at frustrating children so they do not in fact toss them into the ocean.

Chad scooped up our now sandy, sopping wet kite, as I led a screaming Brynn by the hand and we made the long trek back to the house. At first we tried consoling words "It'll dry. It's not ruined. Dad will get the sand off. We can fly it again tomorrow..." But when we realized that wasn't working we just let her scream and wail.

Might was well get it out.

We got her cleaned up, put her in some jammies, dosed her with a soothing dose of children's Tylenol, gave her a big drink of water and tucked her in her bed. I laid with her and sang and she was asleep in about 2 minutes.

I realize this is a weird first recap story, but hear me out.

I was reading in one of my old books recently and I thought "well this is all just so happy." And mostly it is all happy, but sometimes it is so not happy.

When you take 19 people on vacation, especially when 9 of them fall into the 11 and under age bracket, there are bound to be a few unhappy moments. I feel like I do my children a disservice to paint a picture of perfection, because someday they will take their children on a trip across the country and there will be crying and they will be shocked by that crying and feel cheated by my rosy memories. "We never cried!" they will tell their children. "We were perfect for our mother."

BWAHAHAAHAHAHAHA.

Dream on, my loves.

So this post will help you, dear daughters of mine, someday when you are scrapping your child off the floor of the Atlanta airport to remember that lowlights are normal and you can still have a lot of fun, as long as you keep your sense of humor and travel with copious amounts of children's Tylenol.

North Carolina 2011, Day 1: It's raining in Atlanta, no wait, those are just tears.

2011-06-03T21:16:00.000-06:00

waiting to board

This morning we managed to make it through airport security at 7:30 AM with 2 adults, 2 kids, 4 carry on bags, 2 kites and Brynn's 11 lip glosses/chapsticks.

Oh that's right, this one goes to 11.

11. Lip Glosses.

#heavenhelpmeinabout10years

11 various lip products, a must have for all every 6 year old traveler

We sat two and two on the flight to Atlanta. We snacked, watched movies, read, listened to music. It was all very uneventful and pleasant. Except for the kid behind me, who while darn cute, was literally kicking my seat and screaming for at least 3 hours of the flight. Thank goodness for Bose noise canceling headphones. We may have secretly been filming commercial for those headphones, I'm not sure.

It seems like every time we set foot in Atlanta someone falls apart. This time it was Brynn. Over lunch she laid her head on the table and wailed about having to share the banana, even though she said it was too big for her to eat and she wanted to share it. She dragged her bag. She threw herself on the ground. She practiced her ballet "form." She leaned over the chairs and bounced around. She spent about 15 minutes like this:

And then she lost her little mind. She cried and cried and cried and she didn't stop until we were on the plane and she fell asleep.

And then I fell asleep. And then Chad fell asleep. We were talking over dinner about how we all had a nice nap on the plane. "Not me," said Grace. "I was awake, just sitting there trying to decide what to do if we landed and you were all still asleep. I would have no idea what to do!"

We deplaned in Norfolk, where we admired the tealish Mermaid carpet and the grammatically incorrect restroom signs I love so much. (i.e. Women is already plural, no? As is Men. But all the signs say womens and mens. No apostrophes. Norfolkians are not big on punctuation apparently.)

I realized as I watched 2 of our 4 bags circle the carousel about 3 times that Chad has no idea what most of our luggage looks like. Nor does Grace who asked me why so many suitcases are black and could we get purple ones?

We got the car and as we were climbing in hear Brynn say "Cool! No booster seat!" And we looked at each other - crap. In the rush of the morning, neither of us grabbed Brynn's booster seat out of the car. "She'll be fine," says Chad. Nope. No booster seat is no bueno, so I made Chad drive me to the closet Target, which according to Yelp is 1.2 miles from the airport. Where I proceeded to buy a booster seat and all is bueno again.

We ate dinner. I gave Brynn a good dose of Tylenol as she was starting to slip into a crying haze again. There were a lot of "Iwannagohomes" over dinner. Tylenol seemed to snap her out of it. We checked into the hotel, had a great swim in the pool and are Grace and Brynn currently learning to fall asleep in the same bed (they have to share this week). If tonight is an indication, that should last all of about 6 minutes, but we'll see.

I'm excited for this week. I'm excited to chill and be totally focused on, well, nothing. And I'm excited for this time with the kids. Grace is looking so grown up. Compared to the 2 year old having an epic tantrum at 36K feet, she seemed so lovely and poised and calm. She was swimming laps tonight putting her new found swimming skills to use and looking so tall and gorgeous.

Brynn is a riot. I wish I could videotape every minute of her right now. I want to remember everything. Her explaining every detail she saw out the window of the airplane or bobbing up and down in the light of the pool tonight, holding her foot, head under the water, using her goggles to inspect her freshly painted toenails. "They look so beautiful under water, Mom."

I love that she loves every minute of being alive...

... except of course those minutes spent in the Atlanta airport. But who can blame her really? That place is like hell, just slightly less crowded.

Because one day healing you won't be this easy.

2011-06-01T21:31:00.002-06:00

Interior. Master bedroom. 7 AM. Mom (33 years old) lays alone in her bed trying to wake up. Mom looks strikingly glamorous for this time of morning. Brynn (6 years old) enters room, worried look on her face.

BRYNN: Mom, this eye (pointing to right eye) has got a problem.

MOM: (sleepily) Oh yeah? What's its problem?

BRYNN: Well it feels funny and it goed blind.

MOM: Blind, huh? Completely blind?

BRYNN: Um, yes.

MOM: Ok try this. Cover close your eyes. Now cover your left eye with you hand. The non-blind one.

BRYNN complies, covering her left eye.

MOM: (holds up two fingers) Now open your blind eye and look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?

BRYNN: 2.

MOM: You're not blind.

BRYNN: Thanks, Mom. That feels better.

And scene.

Discussion Topic: Vacation

2011-06-01T14:48:00.000-06:00

In this post, you reader will play the role of the child. Don't worry. Your lines will come very naturally to you. Ready, begin...

Yes, we are going on vacation.

It will take 2 planes to get there. No, 2. We will take off and then land in Atlanta. We will not have to stay there because we will then get on another plane, take off and land in Norfolk.

The airport is in Virginia, so we will then drive to North Carolina.

It will take about one and a half hours or for those of you who do not tell time - 3 iCarlys.

You may not pack yourselves because I'm not interested in dressing you in nothing but sunglasses and socks for 9 days.

Yes, we will swim on vacation.

Yes, I will get in with you.

Yes, I own a bathing suit.

It will take 2 planes to get there, remember?

We are leaving in 2 days. When you ask me tomorrow we will be leaving in 1 day, when you ask me 5 minutes from now we will still be leaving in 2 days.

I've decided not to count down in minutes, as it is just too much to keep track of.

2 planes. Count them with me. 1, 2. 2 planes.

I don't know why.

Yes, Grandma and Grandpa will meet us at the beach.

Yes, we will stay in a hotel on Friday and then drive to the beach.

2 planes.

2 days, but yes, as of tomorrow 1 day.

No, you may not take 4 stuffed animals.

Because you don't need stuffed animals at the beach.

Because it's just wrong.

Where will you sit on the plane? Where I tell you to.

Yes, dad too.

Dad always does what I tell him.

He's smart.

2 days.

2 planes.

that is all.

#headondesk

so when does the singing start?

2011-05-25T13:35:00.000-06:00

A new entry in the Brynn to English dictionary.

Choir-practor - where you go get your back cracked.

Used in a sentence?

"My Uncle Scott is a choir-practor."

A sprinkling of random Tuesdayness...

2011-05-25T13:21:00.000-06:00

Tuesday's are a random day for me. The week is underway, but not really far enough along to say anything definitive about. Can't really say you are having a great week on Tuesday - that's asking the universe to send you trouble. Can't really say you are having a terrible week on Tuesday - that's doubting the universe will step in and help you turn it around.

So Tuesday was made for the dissemination of totally random thoughts. I know, try to control your excitement, these random ones are my favorites posts too. If you are really good I might also post a random picture.

1. I have washed the same load of laundry about 10 times. I start it and forget that it is in there and then have to start it again. Then I forget it's in there and start it again. You get the idea. I want to break this cycle, but the only thing I can think to do is handcuff myself to the washing machine and that sounds really boring.

2. My new (see new three years ago) washing machine tells me exactly how long a wach will last. It counts down by minutes. That kind of makes me crazy. I don't really want to know in that much detail how long something is going to take.

3. I really wish there was a grocery delivery service in Utah. I found one in Park City, but nothing down here. I'm almost tempted to move, but moving for the sole purpose of getting your groceries delivered feels a little extreme.

4. I want my groceries delivered because I'm too tired to go to the store.

5. You doubt that I'm really so tired I need someone to bring Rice Chex to my front door? Well, I've started measuring my fatigue on a scale of 1-10 like pain. Let's just say this one goes to 11.

6. I have started using Alice.com, so at least my home products/cleaning supplies are delivered. I officially love Alice.com. Running low on Tide? Order it from your phone and it will show up on your doorstep in two days. Genius.

7. The children are off track. It has been two days. Only two. If the weather was better I would send them outside, but the weather is unbetter, so they are inside. Torturing each other. They did clean their rooms this morning though, so that's something.

How's this for random - I started this on Tuesday and finished in on Wednesday. But I did manage to move that wash along, so that's something...

And now for that random picture I enticed you with earlier...

This is my new answer for everything I don't want to do. "I'm sorry due to world economic and weather related conditions I will not be doing the laundry today."

That is all.

Save yourselves

2011-05-23T15:38:00.003-06:00

Today both my children napped for almost 2 hours. I'm now watching out my window to see a descending cloud of locusts, because I'm pretty sure middle-aged children napping of their own free will is one of the 7 signs of the Apocalypse.

You know it's finally Spring...

2011-05-23T09:33:00.000-06:00

...when Dad fills the sandbox. Happy days are here again.

Goggle Eyes.

2011-05-23T09:27:00.000-06:00

One thing Brynn clearly does fancy about swimming is the goggles. Literally wearing the goggles 24/7 right now.

This weekend she spent a fair bit of alone time exploring Grandma's backyard, jumping on the tramp, skipping, looking at birds...

just happily tiptoeing through her own existence, all wearing her brand new swimming goggles.

Just keep swimming

2011-05-23T09:19:00.000-06:00

were normal human arms meant to make that shape?

So, swimming lessons...

I forgot that Brynn hated the pool as a baby but I'm sitting here today having a flashback of her tiny wet frame clinging to my neck and her trying so hard to keep her feet out of the water. Maybe that's why on the way here when I asked who was excited to swim I got one "me!!!" and one "not me!!!!!"

They are so very different these two. Grace's lesson today is aboit trying to coordinate her arms and legs in the water. She can make it about half the length of the pool before taking a breath. Those flailing limbs of summers past are gone and she's getting smooth and graceful.

Little sister on the other hand. Well today her lesson is jump in and don't freak out. I think that about sums it up her outlook on swimming.

I'm going to need a little cheese with this whine.

2011-05-19T13:55:00.000-06:00

This has been a hard week. I'm not sure if it is the weather, or what, but I'm so extremely tired. I went to bed at 10:30 last night (that's really early for me, FYI) and slept until 7:30. I got up to get Grace off to school and then went back to bed for an hour. 10 hours of sleep. Good sleep. But I still feel flattened, like I've been run over by an AMCE steamroller.

I hurt - head to toe. I'm tired - head to toe. I've taken motrin, forced myself to eat breakfast, stretched, laid on an ice pack and taken a hot shower. All to no avail.

So I've decided to try a little therapeutic complaining. Ready? Let's do it...

I'm tired of feeling like crap.
I'm tired of pretending I don't feel like crap, when I really do.
I'm tired of waking up feeling worse than when I went to bed.
I'm tired of the rain.
I'm tired of the gray sky.
I'm tired of looking out at my weedy flowerbeds.
I'm tired of making myself do things, when I feel like crap.
I'm tired of squinting because my eyes hurt.
I'm tired of living an unpredictable life because I never know when I'm going to feel like crap.

I'm just tired.

I blame my head. My stupid, pounding head. I've decided I can live without it. If only I could figure out how to get it off.

Curse you, chronic pain.

Curse.

You.

Let's end this crappy post with something happy...

In three weeks, I will be here. Where is here? Here is our every other summer trip to Duck, NC. Walks on the beach, sand, waves, duck donuts, family, swimming, duck donuts, jeeps on the beach, wild horses, wild nieces and nephews, flying kites, climbing lighthouses, shopping, sleeping, and did I mention the donuts?

Heaven, thy name is Duck.

Everyone heard that right?

2011-05-18T09:21:00.000-06:00

Grace and Mom, 2007 (yes that's Brynn in the back corner, in a box)

Last night, over dinner, Grace reached across for my hand. I took it and gave her a good squeeze. "You are such a good mom," she says. "I think I'm so lucky to have you."

Just wow. Please excuse me while I scoop up my melted heart and try to get it back into my chest.

Bedtime Ritual

2011-05-16T10:31:00.000-06:00

We have a bedtime ritual with Brynn. It doesn't involve baths or stories, loves or hugs though we do all those things. No, Brynn's ritual is to get in bed and stay there for about 6-7 minutes, at which time she will call out...

"Moooom, I can't go to sleep."

At which point, I respond "try harder."

At which point, she does and that's usually the last I hear from her.

"Try harder."

Every night.

Weird.

Clean Desk.

2011-05-11T15:06:00.000-06:00

My desktop got a serious Clorox Wipe sponge bath today. Dust bunnies all over the world are in mourning. Dust bunny genocide. I'm so hardened to the horror in the world that I don't even feel bad.

No, no. Pay no attention to the piles of paper on the floor. I said clean DESKTOP, not clean OFFICE. You can have a clean desk or a clean floor, but you cannot have both.

Being the Mom.

2011-05-07T23:45:00.000-06:00

DisneyWorld, November 2010

I've been sitting here drafting and redrafting, but I can't find the words for this post. Everything I write feels rehashed and trite. It all feels like the same overly sentimental, greeting card nonsense, which has lost all real meaning.

But my heart is filled to the brim with love for these babies. Motherhood has changed me. I am 9 years and 11 months into my career as a mom and to say I've learned a few things is really short selling my experience.

I'm smarter and oh so much more aware of all that I don't know.

I'm worlds stronger and yet more delicate and susceptible to hurt.

I'm both calmer and more harried.

I have a clearer vision of my future and pretty much no idea how anything will turn out.

I'm tired and really invigorated for the life unfolding ahead of me.

I miss my babies, but I love, love, love my big girls. Like me, they are a study in polarity. They are truly the most delightful things that have every walked the earth and the most aggravating.

And they both have my natural hair color, just in case I ever forget what that was. :)

Love you, babies. Love, Love, Love.

Riding off into the sunset.

2011-05-07T23:31:00.000-06:00

that's right - ponyrific!

It's a sad day.

To tell this story, I have to go back a bit. Several years ago, I can't remember exactly how many, but at least 4 or 5, I got a Christmas present from my sister in law Amelia. I opened the box and removed the contents with mixed emotions - hot pink, flannel pjs covered with horseshoes, ponies, cowgirls riding ponies, etc. Wow, they were...bright.

I wasn't quite sure what to make of them. They were so bright and I was so pastel. They were so pink and I was so blue. They were so ponified and I was so unponidfied.

But they were just pjs, I reasoned. I could wear pjs that weren't "me." I soon got rid of the top because it was literally trying to choke me to death in my sleep, but the pants...well, the pants and I started to develop a symbiotic relationship.

Somehow those pants became my favorite pants.

I have literally been known to get dressed from head to waist and put my pony pants on to work during the day.

Like a toddler whose favorite blanket must go in the wash by direct order from the CDC, I threw an internal fit every time I had to wash those babies. As wash day rolled around I swapped them out for yoga pants or {gasp} jeans, but as soon as they came out of the dryer I put them back on. Having spent so little time folded, the pants seemed to just keep my shape.

I'm not sure who started calling them my pony pants, but the name stuck. I love those pony pants. Of all the lovely clothes I own, they are hands down my favorite thing. Nothing soothes me like my pony pants.

Apparently you cannot wear something everyday for 5 years and expect it to stay in pristine condition. The pony pants have developed a hole. Not a little hole, mind you, a giant shred in the threadbare fabric, right in the bum.

Should be fine, right, you can wear pants with a giant hole in the behind within the walls of your own home, right?

Oh yeah, except despite my promises to myself I can't seem to stay inside. It started by just taking out the trash or checking the mail. Then I justified a quick car pool run or two. Then a quick drive through here or there - In N Out, the bank...those guys aren't looking at your pants. Then in an emergency, I once had to run inside to the office at the elementary school. It truly was an emergency, but still that was a low moment.

So while yes, I could probably get away with holy pony pants in the house, I can't be trusted to stay in the house and the last thing I need it to run out of gas somewhere and have to walk home in my hot pink pony pants with my behind hanging out for all the world to see.

So, alas, it is a sad day. It is the day I am forced to retire my pony pants.

Goodbye little pony pants. I'm forever ponified and better for it.

Teeth, or more specifically, the lack thereof

2011-05-06T11:09:00.000-06:00

I had a root canal. It was terrifying. And then I met the guy doing it and he gave me a fist bump. "We're not hand shake people," he said, "we're knuckle people." And in that moment I knew we were going to get along swimmingly.

He worked well with my dental phobia. Cracked a lot of jokes. Told me I had beautiful teeth and while he probably says that to all the girls, it worked on me. About halfway through the procedure, just in the moment I felt my chest tighten and my hyperventilation begin, he offered to sing for me. "Uh uh," I managed to grunt from beneath my dental sheath.

"Probably a good call," he said. "I don't normally sing to patients and I'm not sure you would find it very soothing if I did. I'm not sure why I even offered. I must really like you."

That was appointment 1 and I'm actually kind of looking forward to appointment 2. Maybe this time I'll ask him to sing.

Grace
Grace had 6 teeth pulled at her last ortho appointment. 6! They were hollow and ready and the doc was just popping them out easy, easy. Until the last 2. One was tough and one was really tough and I gave him the kill sign. "I think I'm done anyway," he said.

"Oh, I know you're done," I replied.

"Your mom is so tough," he joked with Grace.

And he only knows the half of it.

Grace got $10 and a lovely farewell note from her tooth fairy. She promised to come back and take care of Grace's kids.

Brynn
Brynn lost her two front teeth and it was a prolonged, dramatic and horrifying experience. I wanted to say "come one now, I had a root canal and I didn't cry this much," but I resisted not very grown up to go tit for tat with a 6 year old.

Ultimately, Aunt Annie (dental aunt extraordinaire) pulled out one of the teeth and Brynn pulled out the other. What is so great is how it has changed her whole look and given her this darling "I'm missing my two front teeth" lisp. I love it. It's about as cute as they come.

Brynn got $2 and a note, in which the tooth fairy resisted the urge to tell her to buck up next time and take the tooth pulling like a man and instead sweetly complimented her bravery and tooth brushing skills.

Dilemma

2011-05-05T21:58:00.000-06:00

I know I'm not posting much lately, but I have a dilemma. My subject matter is growing up. One such subject in particular has realized that I have a blog and that on that blog I write about, among other things, her. She patted me on the shoulder at dinner last night and said "look mom, I know you posted that picture of me with my blanket, but don't worry, I don't mind too much."

At that moment my brain made that crazy scratching sound that comes from moving a needle too fast on a record....um, what?

I've made it a point not to write about people who don't live in my house. It seems like it might not be that fun to wake up one morning and find yourself the subject of a post, just because you know me, or you are my neighbor, or my mom. In the long run, seems like then some people might not want to know me, or be my neighbor or my mom (right, like I'd give her the choice).

I also don't post that much about Chad because the funniest things I think about tend to be when I'm irked at him and those kinds of posts, about the man list or the man sickness for example, don't make him too happy. Since the key to a happy marriage is both people being happy, seems like posting while irked is a poor judgment.

Now if I can't really post about Grace, what's left?

Posts about my travel and my headaches - wow, fun blog.

So I'm in a quandry. Because while yes, this blog is supposed to be about my life, those kids are my life. The only other really funny group in my life are my clients and I most assuredly won't be posting about them. Write a blog about clients = get fired. It's essentially an unbreakable law of nature.

I guess I'm going to start having to get out more and have experiences I can blog about. And that probably means I'm going to have to start getting dressed. Bummer.

Dinner with Uncle Scott.

2011-05-02T22:53:00.001-06:00

Uncle Scott came for the weekend and we got to go out to dinner and hang out.

Uncle Scott and baby Grace

Baby Brynn and Grandma Sharon

No one to sit by poor mommy, she just had to hang out in the chair in the aisle and dodge the waiters as they came by with very full trays. People news flash I am exceptionally tall - lift those trays up a bit or there's going to be a lawsuit!

Coloring Eggs.

2011-05-02T22:46:00.001-06:00

The cuteness - oh my eyes! Could you die? I love her. This might just be my favorite picture of her ever.

Easter Dresses.

2011-05-02T22:41:00.000-06:00

This might be the last year I can get away with the matching dresses, so I decided to go for it.

sun was killing Grace - we tried several outside shots, but this was the best we got

so we went for another inside shot to make up for the sun induced faces

Sure, make fun of the little guy with his ONE eye! (AKA Grace's Surgery)

2011-05-02T22:31:00.000-06:00

At the end of last year Grace starting getting this funny bump just under the eyebrow of her left eye. It was there for a while. I tried picking at it, but to no avail. Then it started to grow like gangbusters and turn black and Chad and I got nervous. So we put on our "it's no big deal" faces and got Grace to the pediatrician.

He agreed it was weird, but it had a couple of really good things going for it. 1) It did not appear to be attached to the bone. (Apparently things attached to your bone are bad. I could have guessed that, but its now been medically confirmed.) 2) It was almost perfectly circular (irregular shaped growths, like things attached to your bone, means it's bad).

The doc thought it was nothing to worry about, probably just a cyst, but said we should have it removed to be sure. It was not going to go away on its own. So he gave us the name of a surgeon and we left relived and not relieved all at the same time.

Fast forward to the appointment with the surgeon, he agrees that is it probably not life threatening, but should come out. He will go across her eyelid, he says, to hide the scarring in the natural fold of her eyelid and get it out. We'll send it to pathology and be sure its nothing. It should take about 2 hours.

Sometime during this conversation Grace got wind that we were talking about her and that she was going to have surgery. It was two weeks between our appointment and the surgery and she was clearly nervous. So we started praying, praying for her and that it really would turn out to be nothing, if that was the Lord's will, but mostly we prayed Grace calm. Help her survive the two weeks of waiting. And He did.

Surgery School

trying on her mask at surgery school

As part of the effort to help her, we took her to surgery school at Primary Children's Medical Center. Best thing ever, that surgery school. Gives them a very clear idea of what to expect. They tour the hospital and see where they will be, they learn about hospital pajamas and gas masks and ivs. They meet nurses who are all smiles and kindness. They see step by step by step what they will experience when they come to the hospital. It takes all the fear of the unknown out of what's happening. In fact we walked out of the hospital and Brynn says to me, "it's not fair you know, I want to get surgery. Grace gets to do everything." Oh the inequities of life...

A Family Fast
I thought long and hard about who to tell. Finally I decided the week before that we needed to fast for Grace and I emailed our immediate family - brothers and sisters, moms and dads and asked them to fast with us the day before. Specifically, I sent this email:

Hi everyone,

Hope this email finds you all well. I'm writing with a bit of news. Some of you already know, Grace has a cyst growing in the brow line above her left eye. It has been there for a number of months, but has started to grow quite rapidly and seems to be getting darker. The pediatrician and surgeon both feel very confident that it is just a cyst. Two characteristics contribute to this confidence 1) it has clearly defined edges and 2) it does not appear to be attached to the bone. Still because it is in a prominent place, getting bigger, darker, and will never go away on its own, and to confirm that it is indeed just a cyst, they would like to take it out.

She's scheduled to have surgery next Friday, April 8th. We feel confident that all will be well, but Grace is very nervous.

The surgery is scheduled as an out patient procedure, but does require general anesthesia. They are going to go in across her eyelid and remove the cyst from under her brow. That will hopefully hide the scaring in the fold of her eyelid otherwise she'll grow up with a big scar across her eyebrow. She'll have several stitches and a big old black eye when she's done. A few days of recuperating at home and probably back to school on Monday.

It's a bit of a weird time with General Conference and our fast Sunday isn't until after her surgery. So we'd like to fast for her on Thursday, April 7th the day before her surgery, and if you are so inclined, we'd like to invite you to join us. We're praying for the procedure to go well and for everyone involved, especially Grace, to be confident and calm.

We love you all. Hope things are good with each of you. I'll send an update after her surgery. Thanks for helping us on this.

Love,
Lisa

This will shock you, what with my public blog and all, but I tend to be private about big challenges we are facing. I don't want to involve people unnecessarily or get attention, but I felt like we could use the help fasting and these are the people who love us the most, so asking for their help seemed right.

I got back emails from almost everyone expressing their love and concern and their complete willingness to help.

The Night Before
The night before her surgery, we went to dinner with Mike and Denise. We arrived a little late and before we got out of the car, Grace climbed out of her seat and put her hand on my shoulder. "Mom," she said in a voice so tiny, I could hardly hear her, "what if I die?"

I turned around and looked at my sweet baby and watched as big tears ran out of her tiny eyes. I pulled her as close as I could to me, in the awkward position of the car. She buried her head in my neck and just sobbed. She's so tough because she keeps all her emotions bottled up, until she literally just bursts. We talked for quite a while about how much Heavenly Father loved her. I told her about the family fast and explained what fasting means. I told her that we fasted, specifically so she would be calm and not be scared. I told her we had her name in the temple. And I told her how much Dad and I loved her and how we wouldn't do something, unless we thought it was the right thing.

I held her close to me and tried to comfort her. We decided to put our heads together and say a quiet prayer. After dinner, we went to Grandma and Grandpa Christensen's house and Mike and Chad gave her a blessing.

When we took her home, she insisted on staying up late, so she would have an easier time going to sleep for her surgery. I'm still amazed at what kids don't understand. No matter how many times I tried to explain that she doesn't have to make herself go to sleep, that they have medicine for that, she just didn't get it. So I let her cuddle up with me in my bed and I held her close and stroked her hair.

I found out later that at the last possible moment she could eat, Chad let her sneak out of bed and they sat together at the kitchen table and ate a donut. Now, that's a loving Daddy.

hospital jammies

Surgery Day
Surgery day came and Grace's biggest issue was how hungry and thirsty she was, but she was the calmest I've ever seen her. We arrived at the hospital and registered. We got her into her hospital jammies and met with the nurse. They suggested, based on how well Grace seemed to be doing, that we not give her the anti-anxiety meds they had planned (versed). We asked her and she said, she didn't need it, so we didn't do it. We kept her busy taking picttures and texting all the grandparents. Chad brought his iPad and she watched the Karate Kid until it was time to go.

We met with the anesthesiologist and when it came time to leave us she looked at him and said "Ok then, let's go."

"You are the most eager patient I've had all day," he replied.

I literally had to remind her to hug us.

A mini-meltdown
I'd been ok all day. Nervous, but not panicked, but when I watched her walk away from me, I got extremely overwhelmed for a few minutes. I felt a literal flurry of fear overtake my mind. What if after terrible what if. And then I stopped and told myself no. No, you will not overreact when every feeling, every whispering of the Spirit tells you this will be completely fine. No, you will not worry and panic when your 9 year old daughter was able to face this without so much as a sniffle. You will trust the Lord. You will have faith. You will sit here and you will be fine, you hear me? Fine.

So I did. I sat and exercised my faith. And they don't call it exercise for nothing. My faith muscles were extremely worn out after this episode. Sometimes I forget that faith is work, but it is, sometimes really hard work.

Chad brought me a coke and we sat and talked about nonsense. And then 40 mins into the procedure I saw the surgeon come in the waiting room and if he hadn't been smiling I absolutely would have fallen to pieces. (I was expecting 2 hours, remember.) "All done," he said. "Really, really easy. Let's go talk."

blanket sniffing - same strategy since 6 months old

And he told us how well it went and how easy it was to get the mass out. It came out in one piece, no problem. It did have a little blood supply running to it, which is probably why it was so dark. He'd never seen anything like it and he really wanted to cut it open, but he didn't. He sent it whole to pathology. "It was so weird," he said "almost like a BB right under her skin. But we got it and it doesn't look like any malignancy I've ever seen. She should be fine."

The pathology report, which came back 10 days after the procedure, confirmed that the cyst is not a cyst, but a tumor. (Differences between a cyst and a tumor to be explained as soon as one of my children goes to medical school.) The tumor was called a pilomatricoma, a small tumor often found where there are hair follicles. It was benign, so removing it should be the end of our issues. The doctor does not expect it to reappear.

happiness and a post-op thumbs up!

Waking Up
We waited for what felt like forever. I knew she was fine, but I just wanted to get my hands on her. Finally they called us to go back and see her. I went alone, since they only allow one person back at a time. When I finally found her curtain amid the rat maze of the recovery room, I was treated to a huge Grace smile. "She woke up smiling!" the nurse said. "She's the most darling girl."

Oh she really, really is. I put my face down close to hers and kissed her on the cheek and she put her arm around my neck and pulled me in close. " I didn't even die, Mom."

"I told you, you wouldn't."

"Yep, you were right."

These are the moments when I understand that crazy line from Where the Wild Things Are - "I'll eat you up, I love you so."

She woke up really well. She was talking extremal loud as she tried to come out of all the drugs, but she was happy. Happy and very concerned about a baby crying somewhere in the recovery room. "That's so sad! You should go take care of her, Mom. I'm fine."

"No, love. I'm here to take care of you."

"I'm fine. That is one sad baby."

In no time at all they moved her to the longer term recovery room where Chad joined us and she downed a massive orange slushy in no time at all. At every turn people told me how beautiful she was, how sweet, how well she was doing.

And in just another hour, after watching a couple episodes of Say Yes to the Dress, Grace was propped up in a wheelchair and we were wheeling our way to the car. She felt a bit weird for the rest of the day and looked like she would get really sick for a few minutes, but all in all it was a good day.

Once I finally got the pathology results, I sent the following email to our faithful group of family fasters:

Hi all,

I realize that I haven't yet sent out an update on Grace, so I wanted to close out this story. Grace had her surgery as scheduled and though she was very, very upset the night before, the day of the actual procedure she was completely calm, so much so they recommended she not have the versed (that pre-surgery anti-anxiety medication) and she literally walked back into the operating room on her own. When it came time to separate from us she said 'ok, see you later." We had to remind her to hug us.

They predicted 1.5 - 2 hours for the surgery and it took about 40 mins start to finish. They got the entire growth out in one piece. The incision was so tiny and didn't go across her eyelid like the planned. The bruising ended up being very minimal as well.

When I walked back to see her in the recovery room, the nurse said "she woke up smiling." Literally, the only thing that could have made it go more smoothly would have been not having to do it at all.

We have since heard back on the pathology report. It was a small tumor, but benign one. They got it all. It has a long and difficult name, which I have written downstairs, but don't feel like getting right now. Essentially, it was a little tumor that often grows in areas where there are hair follicles. We have one more follow up visit, just to look at the incision, but are not anticipating any issues.

I really can't say thank you enough for your fasting and prayers in her behalf. We feel extremely blessed that it went so well and know that it is a direct result of the collective faith and prayers of our family.

Hopefully we are now done with weirdness, but if something else pops up this will be the first group we ask to pray for us.

Hope you are all well.

Much love,
Lisa

I wouldn't choose to do it again, but it was definitely a faith building experience. Another reminder that the Lord loves us, He loves Grace and we are truly blessed. But in truth, I really could use a weirdness break, faith is both awesome and exhausting.

In rseponse to a late night facebook plea.

2011-04-27T10:11:00.000-06:00

Dear Robyn,

My life is crazy and I'm not feeling feeling very funny lately. Well, funny looking, but I assume you do not troll this blog to see how funny looking I am. (You could just look out your window. That's me. Right there. The one running all the errands in her plaid pajama pants. Getting dressed is so overrated. And time consuming.)

Grace's eye is doing well. I have not blogged about her eye, but plan to right around the time I blow out 90 candles on my birthday cake. Surgery was a complete success. It was a small tumor, but a benign one. They got it all. Today the doctor told me he thinks it is highly unlikely it will reappear and told Grace time to start trying to get the surgical glue off her head. I am happy. Grace is not. Either she is scared of ripping off the glue or she likes the attention, or both.

I've become a little obsessed about playing words with friends (AKA scrabble with just enough differences not to inspire a lawsuit) on my phone. I'm currently playing almost my entire immediate family. Here's the rundown of my competition:

Chad tough, but beatable if I concentrate.
Mom, strategically takes about a week between turns, I have therefore surmised that she's trying to beat me by wearing me down.
Brother 1 of 2 - a word genius, impossible to beat, except the one time when he wasn't paying much attention.
Dad - supremely tough and uber-competitive, I'd say I win one out of three games. He's employing the opposite strategy of my mom - if I take more that five minutes to play he texts me to remind me it is my turn. He then waits another 5 minutes before calling me to tell me he texted me to remind me its my turn.

Why am I telling you all this? Because I'm sitting here seriously wishing Smangos was a word. If it was I would be wiping the floor with my dad.

I had a root canal. Well, more specifically, I had root canal appointment 1 of 2. I was terrified. TERRIFIED. My hands literally shook for an hour before I was so nervous. It was actually 100% fine. Completely painless (ok, the shots hurt, but everything else was fine) and the endodontist was really funny. I appreciate funny. I have no concerns about appointment 2. I'm actually looking forward to getting it finished up. {GASP} I just had no idea how much that tooth had really been bothering me until I was out of pain. Darn my insanely high pain tolerance.

I can't find any of my fingernail clippers. I swear I own 5 pairs and can't find a single one. Where do those kind of things go? I think they elope in the middle of the night with stray gym socks and car keys. The point is, until I find them keep me away from all hosiery. I won't be pretty.

I'm making a conscious effort to speak more slowly. I get a little amped up. When I'm amped I talk faster. Talking faster makes me amped up. It's a vicious cycle. I'm trying to check myself. Slow it down, self, slow it down.

I'm in Chicago. Last minute. Expensive ticket. WAY nicer room at the normal price. What's up with that? Normally I can lay in the bed in this hotel and reach out and touch both walls. This room is huge. HUGE. The TV is so far away I need binoculars.

That's it for now. Feel better?

Love you,
Lisa

For the record, the plea: "I was hoping that with the girls back in school, I'd get a Lisafam fix. Then I hear that Grace is going to the Dr. for an eye check up. And now, a surprise trip to Chicago?!? I'm feeling a bit strung out. Just give me a few words to make it, man. Just a few. You are one crazy super woman. I stand in awe and wonder. Let me know if I can help out at all with your amazing schedule."

A lovely lunch chat.

2011-04-10T14:26:00.000-06:00

After church today, over a lunch of homemade mac and cheese and gatorade, the conversation turned to service. Grace told a story she heard in primary about a poor boy who gave his coat away to someone who needed it more. We talked about why it is important to serve others. How you can be very poor and still have many blessings, and we should never be selfish, but always try to find others who need something more than we need it.

It was calm and quiet.

"I love Sundays," Grace said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because they are calm and you just get to relax."

"I love them because they are peaceful and you get to be with your family," Brynn said.

I love lunch with a side of the Spirit.

Drunk with sun.

2011-04-01T11:04:00.000-06:00

I’ve stopped pulling my bedrooms curtains closed tight. No need. When the winter sun rises in the morning it rises behind a sky of dull, gray clouds. Morning will be dark, no need to pull the shade and make it darker.

But through some kind of spring miracle, I opened my eyes this morning and golden sun was pushing itself through my bedroom windows. Like a spring laser, the sun cut the gray sky into two pieces and it fell away to reveal a shade of balmy blue I thought no longer existed.

The neighbors must be just as excited as I am. After freeing themselves from months of winter hibernation, the neighborhood is crawling with people. Babies in strollers and happy moms in sunglasses. Kids on bikes with last year’s helmets forced onto their now bigger heads. A park so crammed with children they are using each other as climbing equipment.

Both my backyard neighbors just stopped by. I haven’t seen either of them since the snow flew over 6 months ago. Instead of inviting them in, we stood on my driveway in the sun and analyzed my lawn. North facing is hard on grass. It literally gets crushed under the mounds of heavy, wet snow, but spring hope is evident even in my battered lawn. Beneath the mashed, dead grass little flecks of green are already starting to push their way to the surface. A good raking would perk this lawn right up, but I’m drunk with sun, so I don’t see myself raking today.

I pulled out my porch furniture and leaned my head back against the porch rail. I closed my eyes and marveled at the light I could still sense on the other side of my eyelids.

The girls came home from school happy and running. One snuggled under my arm on the bench and one just laid right down on the porch, all stretched out so she could get sun on every square inch of herself.

“Mom, mom, you’ll never guess what I saw today,” little sister tells me.

“What?”

“I was walking to school and I looked at the trees and the flowers are wearing their little green jackets, getting ready to pop right out.”

There was just enough chill in the air today to tingle your arms, so I looked at the weather tonight – two days of sun and snow on Sunday. Better enjoy the days I’ve got. Only two days before I have to say good bye to the neighbors, cover up the porch furniture and go back inside. Only two days of waking up to a warm morning sun. I don’t think I’ll pull my the shades tonight. No need.

Worth 1000 words

2011-03-27T20:54:00.001-06:00

Chad: [flipping through the pictures on my iPhone] "why do you have all these pictures of the radio?"

Lisa: "When a song comes on the radio I like I take a picture of the info so I will remember to download it on iTunes."

C: "And what's this one?"

L: "A recipe I want to try. Took 4 pictures to get it all recorded. The technology is really limiting."

C: "You have problems."

L: "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Woke up in Salt Lake, fell asleep in Denver.

2011-03-27T20:54:00.000-06:00

Friday, noon: Chad calls and says "don't be mad." Terrible lead, man. Never tell me don't be mad, that alone makes me mad. He proceeds to tell me that Aaron called him and invited him to the BYU game...NCAA tournament...against Gonzaga...in Denver. It will be fun and I should be ready to go by 5PM. I laugh the evil laugh of someone about to commit a homicide, but then hear myself say "ok, that will be fun."

WHAT???

Friday, 3 PM: I text Chad and tell him if has any hope of leaving for Denver during this decade he better come home and help us get ready.

Friday, 3:30PM: Chad is still nowhere to be found. I seriously contemplate Fed-exing the children to Chad's office.

Friday, 4:00 PM: I pack, curl my hair and take a work call at the same time. It is an astonishing feat. I am not done with work, I plan to work in the car.

Friday, 5:00 PM: I realize the children's clothes are still drying. We decide to In N' Out for a quick dinner and then come back and grab them the clothes they need.

Friday, 5:45 PM: We grab the girls clothes and hit the road.

Friday, 6:00 PM: We pull onto the freeway and marvel that "we" were able to pull this off in only 6 hours.

Friday, 8 ish: We realize that A) I get really car sick when looking at the computer in the car and B) the internet/cell service in Wyoming is from the dark ages. I know what kind of network 3G is, but what kind of network is E? Shouldn't E stand for error? Yes, it should, but it Wyoming it stands for supEr, pathEtic, intErnEt. See what I just did there? Anyway, no working in the car.

Friday, 8 ish to Saturday, 1:30 AM: We drive, I marvel at the Wyoming landscape (which I find really beautiful and inspiring), we try to stop for gas without waking up the children, we listen to HairNation and 80s on 8 on XM radio. We know way too many songs on both stations. We finally pull into my sister in law's driveway and manage to get everyone to bed without waking up the entire house.

Saturday, 6AM: Kids are up. Groan.

Saturday, 7:45AM: I am up. Double groan.

Saturday, 9AM: We got to my nephew Tanner's gymnastics meet and marvel and his tiny biceps and 6 pack. We watch him do amazing things. We laugh about how we would hurt ourselves if we tried such activities and we covet, not so secretly, his muscles.

Saturday, day: We go to McDonald's for a post-meet Shake. We eat lunch at home. We have an impromptu family piano concert where Chad wows the nephews by playing the piano with his forearm. Everyone goes to play outside - at the park, tennis, in Aunt Jen's hammocks. I work. We order pizza. Baby sitter comes. All adults leave for the game.

Saturday, evening: We get Jimmered. Gonzaga gets Jimmered. I resist the temptation to give the guy behind me an earful when he tells me you are not allowed to smack talk if your team is up 16 points. Forgive me man, if I think it's inappropriate for your team to hug the ref after a call. Hug him, seriously, going to slip him a hundred bucks too?

Saturday, night: We go home lay on the couch, watch sports center, talk about life, learn how apple TV works, watch videos from last Easter's family Sumo Wrestling event and laugh until we feel sick.

Sunday, morning: Uncle Aaron makes crepes and the children marvel and being allowed to eat pudding for breakfast. We get ready, we let everyone play at the park for a few minutes, we take a few classic "pose by the car you came in" pictures.

Sunday, 11:30 AM: We hit the road.

Total time on the road: 16 hours
Total time in Denver: 34 hours
Family memories and a solidified reputation for spontaneity: priceless

Fluency.

2011-03-27T20:48:00.000-06:00

I was informed at Parent teacher conferences that Brynn's reading is very robotic. Her fluency scores are quite low. I find it ironic that the most animated child on planet Earth reads with the most monotone voice.

I tried talking to her about it. "They want you to make it interesting when you read. Try to read it smoothly like you are talking."

"Why?"

"Because is makes it more interesting. Reading like a robot doesn't sound interesting."

Brynn thought for a very long time. "But mom, I think robots are very interesting."

Can not argue with that.

Snow Sad.

2011-03-27T20:45:00.000-06:00

Brynn took her Chicago snowglobe for the show and tell.

She showed.

She told.

She packed the snowglobe in her backpack to bring it home.

Between packing and leaving, somehow, some way, someone stepped on her bag and crushed the snowglobe. Smitherins. It even left a big wet, goopy spot on the carpet. (Which Byrnn was totally mortified about. She asked me about 20 times if I thought it would stain. Just water I assured her. [Toxic water full of glitter.] No, I'm sure it's fine. Really.)

She was so sad. That was her favorite snow globe, she said. Her CHICAGO snow globe. Will I go to Chicago again soon? Do I remember where I got the snow globe? Could I call my work friends and tell them I really need to go to Chicago? Could I just go?

She cried and cried and I felt terrible, but it was pretty much done deal. Once a 6 year old boy crushes a tiny snow globe under his giant puppy paw, hopes of snow globe redemption are pretty much gone. So we cried and snuggled and put the remains of our once beautiful snow globe on the ledge above the kitchen sink.

Next, I saw this:

Monster has a Styrofoam ball body, pipe cleaners legs, jewels eyes and a sparkly crayon mouth

"Brynn, what's this?"

"Oh, be careful mom!! The city of Chicago is under attack!!!!"

Even woe has a creative upside.

The next day Brynn came home with a tiny valentine's day Teddy Bear snow globe tucked in her bag. I now have a soft spot in my heart for a kind Kindergarten teacher who loving replaced a shattered snow globe.

Memories

2011-03-17T15:31:00.000-06:00

Soon I will post amazing vacation pictures, witty insights about organized tours and the grand total of sleep I was able to bank while on my trip, but until then here's two things I don't want to forget.

Make Believe
Some children play school or mommies, my children play business trip. Business trip involves getting dolled up in your best dress up clothes, packing a small toy laptop in a bag and swinging it over your shoulder with great flourish, explaining to everyone how you have to go have a meeting with your "work friends," kissing everyone good bye and heading off to exotic places like Chicago and Virginia.

Going Too Far

This is not the silliest of the silly photos, but I choose to preserve the shred of dignity I have left. This was not a flattering photo series for me.

Due to a poorly timed illness, Grace was forced to stay home from the Jazz game last night. To say she was mmmmaaaaaddddd doesn't even begin to cover it. In an effort to cheer her up, we took a ton of silly self portaits with my iPhone. That brightened her mood considerably - I'm quite a riot if you didn't know.

Then we ate Chick-Fil-A and I allowed her to get a drink AND a chocolate shake. Score! Then we came home, snuggled up under my heating blanket and watched Survivor.

"Hey mom," she said. "How about we watch Survivor and American Idol AND Dog the Bounty Hunter or have I just taken it way too far?"

This blog is going on vacation.

2011-03-04T11:24:00.001-07:00

I know what you're thinking - hasn't this blog been on vacation?

No, this blog has been working insane hours, taking care of it's tiny future bloggers and doing to taxes.

UGH TAXES. UGH UGH UGH UGH.

So the sporadic posting has been the result of being over-wrought.

But it's official. I'm going on vacation.

No work. No email. No IRS. No clients. No KIDS! (happy and nervous about that one.) No nothing.

I've let my co-workers know. I let my clients know. I let my middle of the night "words-with-friends" random opponents know. Now I'm letting you know.

It's official. Nothing left to do. I'm out of here.

When next we meet I will have photographic evidence to prove that you can spend a week in the Caribbean without getting all that tan.

Later gators! See you in a week.

Today (as of 3:25 PM).

2011-03-02T15:28:00.002-07:00

45 work related emails. (Didn't count the personal ones, or read them for that matter.)

23 docs open on my computer at once.

5 teleconferences.

4 loads of laundry. (none of it folded yet)

2 mani/pedis the girls gave themselves, in Brynn's room, while I was on the phone.

1 bottle of confiscated hot pink nail polish.

1 sink full of dirty dishes turned into one dish drainer full of clean ones.

1 child throwing up.

1 child with a sore throat.

1 Coke consumed.

0 showers.

8 hours of day remaining, at least.

{insert sound of my sobbing here}

My Screaming Manifesto about the stupidity of teeth.

2011-02-28T16:20:00.001-07:00

Teeth should just work. Work properly as they were intended to work, with no intervention.

They are a pretty requisite part of existing on this planet. You want to eat things besides pudding and polenta and yogurt? You will need teeth.

I realize you get two sets and on the surface this makes sense. Your mouth is so tiny at the beginning that you need tiny teeth to go with it. The concept that bigger, more effective teeth will grow in later as your mouth is bigger, and we hope more effective, is logical.

The fact that your first set of teeth last you about 5 years before they start falling out and your next set of teeth are supposed to last you 95 some odd years...that's where I start to have a problem with the whole teeth plan.

1st set grows in straight. 2nd set grows in however it darn well pleases.

These follow up teeth are a real nuisance. Even if you take really good care of them they will still have to be straightened, buffed, polished, xrayed, drilled and filled.

These fillings will work, but only for a while. "All filings fail eventually." Really? Then we should get better fillings. It's 2011. Lets have Superman fillings. I want granite teeth with no possibility of decay.

I want my never ending flossing to mean something. As a reward for my diligent flossing, I want my granite teeth to shine like the sun bouncing off fresh snow.

I want a spray that prevents tooth decay. Superman spray tan for teeth. They have a spray that prevents your car from rusting - let's get those people working on a tooth solution.

I want to roll back the clock and be born with teeth that will always be functional, always be straight, never be painful and not require 30 years of dental intervention to keep them in my head.

I spent 2.5 hours at the dentist again today. (Ah, you say, rant is making so much more sense in context.)

I'm still having problems with the tooth they fixed last time. They took some new xrays. (I'm also curious to know why in 2011 you still have to be draped in lead to get your molar xrayed. It makes me nervous the giant lead apron...) Anyway, long story short, they don't know why this tooth is still bugging me. All we can think is that the nerve might be dying, so now I'm armed with two emergency prescriptions and am on molar suicide watch.

I had another "leaky filling" fixed. Promptly this time, so it doesn't appear that it's going to cause me any serious problems. I think today was a one and done for tooth #2.

As for tooth #1, we're going to see how it all goes, but Dr. B will probably want to touch up the filling next time he sees me. Eh? Does touching up require Novocaine? Yes, he said. Then don't molly coddle me man, that's not touching up. That's just a big old filing.

Speaking of Novocaine, Dr B used so much Novocaine today that I walked out of there looking like I'd had a mild stroke on my left side. Not pretty. Oh so not pretty. I managed not to cry all the way home this time, so that's something.

My Tivo is on Life Support.

2011-02-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

I'm in love with my Tivo. In love. Tivo changed the way I watch television. I haven't watched a commercial in 9 years. It introduced me to entertainment multitasking curtosey of it's second tuner. My life got a lot better when Tivo allowed me to watch 2 shoes at once.

I really fought Chad when we go the Tivos. If memory serves, and it usually doesn't, the Tivo cost over $200 dollars. Snap. $200 for TV?? But now I get it and I'm 100% a Tivo convert.

The Tivo is 9 years old, which I think it official makes it the oldest piece of electronics equipment in my home. Lately, its been showing its age. It freezes. It goes all crazy and pixelated. It randomly reboots itself. It's almost ready to give up the ghost.

Chad has offered to buy me a new HD DVR. (I don't let him say that near the Tivo. I don't want to hurt it's feelings, after all.) He swears I will love an HD DVR. "Think of it," he says "Top Chef in HD!!"

I'll be honest - I can't tell the difference between normal TV and HD. If I grew accustomed to HD and had to go back, I probably would be able to, but for now...I really can't tell. (I don't say that where Chad can hear me. He gives me that look I'm pretty sure you give someone right before you have them committed to a mental institution.)

But I've resisted his offer. I don't want an HD DVR, I only want my Tivo. We have an HD DVR downstairs and I don't like it. Chad says I will get used to it, but I don't want to get used to it. I want to continue on loyal to the piece of equipment that changed me life.

Tonight the Tivo has lost the signal and rebooted itself about 9 times in the last 40 minutes. I seen the signs. I've known the day was coming, but I've been in Tivo denial. I've done everything I can to love it along.

The screen has officially gone black.

Looks like it's time to pull the plug - literally.

Excuse me, I must now go bury the remote in the backyard.

New Car. New Rules.

2011-02-22T22:41:00.001-07:00

So many things to catch up on - braces, parent teacher conferences, the sad tale of a broken snow globe. But I'm busy working on my book. I haven't worked on it in a long time. I laid it on the shelf for several months because it was too overwhelming to think about. I refuse to be stressed out about it. If I'm not going to enjoy writing it, then what's the point? The writing is the fun part, so I took a nice long break. But this weekend I got the bug again and I've made ton of progress in the last few days. It leaves me no time to blog, but I'm keeping a list of topics, so when the book slows back down, I'll know what I wanted to say here.

Ok, in the meantime, one quick snippet. We took the kids to dinner last night and the hostess gave them crayons. Lately they have become very into returning the crayons. Brynn carefully handed her crayon stash to the hostess on our way out. "Thank you," she said, " we had fun coloring."

"You can keep the crayons if you like," hostess offered.

Brynn turned around with wide, sweet eyes, cocked her head to one side and said "Oh, no thank you. My mom has a new car and she doesn't let us bring our crayons in it."

6 going on 30.

Home again.

2011-02-17T10:29:00.000-07:00

I arrived home at 1:49 AM. Ouch. The New York trip is not an easy trip. I do not find NY to be conveniently located from my home. On the way out I sat in between two men, friends, flying together. I rather graciously offered to give up my middle seat and let them sit by each other, bu they said no thank you. One liked the window, one liked the aisle. They were happy in their assigned seats.

Why, I wondered, would you take a five hour flight and not sit next to the person you are traveling with? How will you talk to them?

And then I figured it out.

You will still talk to them. You will talk over the poor woman crammed into the middle seat between you. You will still pass things back and forth, either in front of her or behind her. You will poke each other. Laugh. You will open the window shade 9000 times in an effort to appease each other when the sun shines too bright, but one of you still really wants to see out. You will chatter away in a foreign language, so even the joy of eavesdropping is gone for poor middle seat woman.

Sheesh. It was like traveling with my kids, only worse, because I couldn't threaten to strip these guys of their privileges.

My colleague arrived to the meeting fresh off the train from Boston, raving about how relaxing the train is. How much work she got done! It was so relaxing and productive. How great for you, I wanted to say, I listened to my ipod for 4 hours and 40 minutes while I rested my chin on my knees. That was neither restful or productive, but if I did get to practice my patience and my contortion-ism, so I guess it wasn't a total loss.

The flight home was not as bad, but very turbulent. Not quite typhoon turbulent, but consistently turbulent. Dips and bumps. Eesh.

Got to SLC my bag was literally the last one to come down the magic baggage shoot and hit the carousel. I always get very nervous when I'm the last one standing there, but thankfully they didn't lose my bag.

The shuttle was running behind because of last night's snow storm, so they packed it full and we made 4 stops before my house. Serves me right for living in the boonies I guess. My flight landed at 11:42 PM and I walked in the door at 1:49 AM. I set the alarm, kissed my kids, brushed my teeth, took off my clothes and put on a Tshirt, and slipped in between the covers at 1:52. Record time.

And it was warm! Chad remembered to turn on my heating blanket so I could come home and snuggle in warm covers. {love}

I'm having kind of a cranky morning. I can tell I'm getting sick. I'm tired and have a headache and a sore throat. I blame New York. And cab drivers. And airlines. And shuttle drivers. And snow storms. And work. And clients. And the economy.

So happy to be home.

New York is still cold.

2011-02-15T21:36:00.000-07:00

M&M store view from my window. Screen is 6 stories tall!

I'm in NY. In a hotel overlooking Times Square. I came to NY once when I was 10. I don't remember coming to Times Square, so I've enjoyed the last two days. It's a bit differnt than I was expecting, but I don't really know what I was expecting.

It's bright! Like other worldly kind of bright. We were in a restaurant last night and the lights are so bright that when you looked outside it seemed like day time. Like a crazy sensory experiment. Your body knows it's night, but your eyes tell you its day.

I wish I had a bit more time to explore. Especially since today I figured out where the Gershwin theater is and they are playing WICKED. Everywhere I go lately is taunting me with Wicked. Seems wrong.

NY is just as cold as when I was here in December. Next year I must invest in a thicker coat for traveling. I almost brought my big winter coat on this trip, but something about my shimmery white coat with the fur trim (AKA my sassy eskimo coat) seemed kind of unprofessional. Instead, I decided to go with my tailored, light lavender, wool coat, so I look professional, but am cold. I guess that's better in this context.

In other news, I've been quite worried about my hair. Pretty shallow, I know, but still. It's been in a ponytail mode for about 3 months. Hard to argue with the functionality of ponytail hair, but I want it to be long and amazing. I don't really have amazing hair, though. I have thin hair. Thin hair looks amazing for about 5 mins and then it goes ppppbbbbtttt. So on Saturday I went to the hairdresser and said "really, I need better hair. What can we do?" So we colored it and highlighted it to rid me of those pesky grays. We trimmed it and he styled it for me - I think to inspire me. Then he asked me what kind of product I use. To which I responded "I'd rather not say, but let's put it this way...I get really excited when it goes on sale 2 for $5." I got the serious hairdresser look and he said "you are 33 years old. It's time to stop using such cheap product."

So he hooked me up with good stuff and 2 people told me how good my hair looked today. 2! Shallow, but self esteem building. I'll take it. I may even text my hairdresser and tell him he was right. My hair has responded to the more expensive product in such a positive way even other people noticed. He will gloat for about 10 years if I do, but I feel like I should spread the self esteem around. He had a hand in the hair, he should reap the benefits.

I have now written two paragraphs about my hair. Eesh. Moving on...

hmmm...

I don't really have much else to say. I don't want to write about work and apparently all I do is work and worry about my hair. What a stunning self revelation.

In other news, I miss my kids, though no one has cried into the phone this time. I talked to them tonight and it was ok. I also really miss Chad. Really miss him for some reason. He put a valentine in my suitcase, so when I arrived last night there as a card inside my bag. It was a cute, funny card and it made me laugh and tear up at the same time. He texted me twice today, just to check in and see how it was going. He's a good man. I'm not sure how I got so lucky.

Work is good. I hate the traveling. Really hate it. But I like my job and I want to be doing it. I just tell myself I'm on a vacation recon mission. Just scouting out the great places to bring everyone back to, because really wouldn't the girls die to stay in a room overlooking the 6 story screen outside the M&M store? They would. Trust me, when the 6 story blue M&M winks at you just before you close the curtain and go to sleep, you feel pretty special.

Invisible love.

2011-02-12T21:10:00.001-07:00

When I was a kid Valentines came in envelopes. They folded, like cards are supposed to and fit inside little envelopes. The envelopes actually had adhesive and you licked them to get them closed. The best Valentines were the ones where your friend stuck a few of those conversation hearts inside said envelope.

Yes, the bulging Valentine envelope of yesteryear is a great memory.

So imagine my dismay when I realized that in the modern world Valentines no longer come with envelopes. Most of them don't even fold like real cards. They fold, sure, but they fold right through the picture, so you basically giving your friend a picture of a cat with a big crease across its face. Screams love, doesn't it?

For the last few years, I've waxed nostalgic as we've filled out Valentine 'postcards.' I've pined for envelopes.

Tonight my Valentines expectations went even lower. I opened up the box of Mad Libs Valentines with pencils, which Grace so carefully selected a few nights ago at Target. I looked in the box and saw 16 pencils...no Valentines.

Fantastic, either modern Valentines are now invisible or this box is a defect.

Chad, thrilled to the gills I'm sure, accepted the assignment to go back to Target at 8PM, two nights before Valentines day and rectify this situation. His assignment? Either another box of Mad Libs Valentines with pencils or enough boxes of something really cool for Grace to give the same thing to everyone. I look forward to seeing what he comes up with.

And to the good folks of PaperMagic (distributors of Mad Libs Valentines) Empty boxes? Not cool my friends, not cool at all.

This post is a marathon, not a sprint.

2011-02-10T21:35:00.000-07:00

Wow! Last post on 1/26/11??? It's like I fell in big hole. I did actually. I fell in a big hole called life. Profound, I know.

Ok, so this is going to be long. Pace yourself and don't forget to hydrate. (If you get dehydrated you have to go the ER and the bill for something like that is about 800 smackers. Just sayin'.)

Recently, it was groundhog day. Ever see that movie groundhog day? You know the one where Bill Murray gets up and lives the same day over and over and over? That's pretty much my life.

I feel like I do the same thing every day. It's mostly work, kids, work, kids and then sleep. Then the alarm clock chirps and a tune from my new favorite Sara Barellies album fills the room and I start all over again.

But here are the highlights and low lights, which have kept the days of my life from completely melding into a never ending blur...

Date Night and a New Car
We bought a new car. It's very nice. Maybe even too nice. I don't know if I'm grown up enough for this car, but Chad says I'll get used to it. Anyway, 2 weeks ago we went on a date. We went to dinner and visited with some friends. But BEFORE we went we drove around and listened to the 80s channel on satellite radio. And we laughed and laughed. I must go on record saying Chad is the world's best lip syncher. Seriously. The dramatic flare that boy can bring to "Eternal Flame" should qualify him for a Tony Award.

For Brrr....
I drove the girls to school everyday for a week because it was so blimey cold. I could have made them walk, its only 5 minutes, but forcing a 6 year olf to walk to school when it is 4 degrees seems like a poor parenting choice. So I drove them. Crazy, crazy weather. Blizzards all over the country. Those pictures of Lakeshore Drive in Chicago were amazing. Made me really happy I wasn't in Chicago Snow drifts that buried cars! Wow. Made me really happy I wasn't in Chicago this week. Reminds me why you should keep a few supplies in your car. Single digit days in Salt Lake are pretty rare...wow, it was cold. Really cold! Have I mentioned it was cold? Apparently I was very affected buy it.

A lot of teeth stuff

This has been a big couple of tooth week for us. Last Monday, Grace's check up at the orthodontist turned into the pre-braces appointment. Thanks to a lot of growth in the last year, she's ready to start braces. Cha-ching. Looks like the orthodontist will be getting that new big screen TV, after all. I'm so happy for him.

Last Tuesday, I cracked a tooth. Apparently that "leaky" filling I put off fixing was a lot more than "leaky." I spent 3 hours at the dentist while they tried to fix it. Ever since my surgery, which will be 6 years ago end of of this month, I have a lot of trouble going to the dentist. I get so scared. You would have thought that such a major event would have made me tougher, but instead it's jut made me really nervous. They start coming at my face with all those tools and sucky things and I just freak out. I laid in the chair and stared at a ceiling tile and tried to think about other things, but I could make my hands stop shaking.

In the end, I lived, but the filling may or may not be a permanent fix. They seem to think its highly likely I'll have to have a root canal, but hopefully this will take. A week later, I still feel ok. Pray, pray, pray I don't end up having the root canal. I'll literally have to be sedated. Everyone laughs when I say that, but I'm 100% serious. S.E.D.A.T.E.D.

On Wednesday, we went back to the dentist, so the girls could get their teeth cleaned. They loved every minute of it. Especially the new sunglasses they have you wear since the dentist changed out their lights.

Back

I did something to my back. Don't know what. It didn't go all the way out, but pretty close. I could still walk, as long as I walked SLOW. So I walked slow for a few days and spent all of Sunday alternating between heat and ice. I am recovered.

Star Student

While I was convalescing, Brynn came in on Sunday night and said "Oh yeah and mom, I'm the star student this week, so I get to take a poster tomorrow that tells all about myself."

{sigh}

I sent her to bed and walked downstairs, slowly, to find some posterboard.

Then I came back upstairs and asked Chad "Do you think it is inappropriate for her to take a star student poster with the 4th Article of Faith written on the back?"

Apparently, I have sacrificed all my poster board to Primary Sharing Times, so our ox was officially in the mire and Chad went to Wal-mart. He came home with a piece of florescent pink poster board, so bright I literally needed sunglasses to make the stupid poster.

I learned something important that night, Elmer's glue sticks have adhesive properties equivalent to spit and ear wax. Come on now, Elmer's, you guys are the glue people. If I can't stick a piece of paper to a poster board without putting the phone book on top of it, than your glue is not sticky enough.

Just not. Don't argue. NOT.

Dental Hygiene

Finally, do you think my children own too many toothbrushes?

Sheesh. From this picture you'd think I have 17 kids. I have 2. 2, one mouth a piece. Apparently our culture of excess has invaded my bathroom! Seems like they love to brush their teeth, yet I have to remind them every single day. Oh, irony, why do you plague me?

Twinkle Toes

Saturday we went up to Park City and I bought the children some much needed shoes. They love these twinkle toes. You think these are crazy, you should see the ones I said no to. They were a gold lame with crazy angles on the side. They looked like shoes little Richard would wear, so I said no. But I gave the go ahead on these. Brynn's light up. A lot. If she clicks her feet together when I'm driving after dark, I think I'm getting pulled over. No joke.

Ruthann

Thanks for noticing that I went dark for a while. Renews my faith that if something ever happened to me in about a week, someone would notice. {heart} you.

365 days.

2011-01-26T08:00:00.004-07:00

POST UPDATE: Last night Chad told me he read my blog. "What's this 365 thing?" So I tried to explain daily picture blogging and my enthusiasm for it. He just looked at me like I was from Mars and said "you know I have no idea what you are talking about right now." Ah, boys. (sigh)

I love 365 blogs. Before last year, I'd never followed a daily picture blog and at first I didn't get it. On January 2 there's just not that much to look at on a 365 blog, but by June the picture of who someone is really starting to emerge.

My cousin Rachael, the talented photographer, is doing a weekly challenge that I can tell I'm going to like. They've just started but I'm already hooked. The first week they did pictures to embody the word solitude and I thought her photo was stunning. Check it out here.

It makes me want to do a 365 blog, but I realized the entire blog would basically be:

driving the children to {fill in the blank}

working

dishes - yes, I wear pink gloves to do the dishes. I'm so stylin'

laundry

I don't get out much. And clearly my photography skills are a bit sub par...

Maybe I should do a daily word blog. Everyday pick a word that embodies the day. That would be really, really hard for me. One word?! A single, lonely word to summarize 24 hours of living. Brutal. I'm not exactly known for my brevity.

I'd choose a word, but then have the uncontrollably urge to explain it. Maybe the subject line is the day's word and then I write 3 bullets about it or something. Hmmm...I feel a great idea in here somewhere.

Or maybe I just need to get out more.

40 days of darkness.

2011-01-25T08:43:00.000-07:00

Last week was a long week. So long. Living in quarantine. Taking care of a very, very sick child. And yet, some of my best mothering is done in crisis. I like taking care of my babies. Even when it is hard and I'm sleep deprived. That's when they need me the most and something in my spirit rises to it. I can't explain it.

By Sunday, people were feeling a bit better. But I didn't want to take them to church. Better not to push it, I thought, but they were feeling better. Evidently better enough to bicker. So Chad took us on a drive.

Even though we missed church, Sunday turned out to be so lovely. Mostly because it was SUN day. Sun real live sun! I knew it was up there somewhere. Today, at 8:24 AM and there is literally no sun to be seen. It's like it hasn't risen at all. Like someone swallowed the sun. Dark, gray and heavy. Ah winter.

It was hard to send Grace out into the gack this morning. It felt ominous. But she bounded down the hill happily. Not a care in the world. She met her friend and they headed off for a day of crossword puzzles, geometry and the water cycle.

Brynn is home. She woke up and said "my tummy hurts. I need to stay home." I'll admit, I usually don't believe her when she says things like that. She's very dramatic. The girl who cried "hurt." Everything is the worst she's ever had. Or the saddest. Or the best. She rides life at its poles. (Plus she's forever spitting into the toilet and telling me she threw up.)

Hence when she comes to me first thing in the morning and says sick, I usually don't believe her.

This morning she said she was sick. I asked how sick. She made some strange gagging face and then threw up.

So turns out - pretty sick.

Looks like we are starting over. We got one healed and brought one down. Darkness has descended once again. Let's just hope we can stay out of the hospital this time. (Sigh)

Siblings.

2011-01-20T20:28:00.000-07:00


Scott, Lisa and Ben - Washington DC, Dec 2007

Tonight Scott (brother number 1 of 2) asked me to name three things universal to all people. I thought for a moment and said ... "truth, justice and air."

"Wow," he said. "That's pretty deep. I was thinking Disneyland, McDonalds, and sweatpants."

You don't get to pick your siblings, but sometimes you just get really, really lucky.

It's 2 AM and we're eating popsicles.

2011-01-19T14:37:00.001-07:00

this is after we had been in the ER an hour. This is the I'm feeling a bit better shot - sad!

When Grace was about 8 months old I took her to the doctor and said "I'm not sure what is wrong with her, but she's really sick. I saw her stick her finger in her ear, so I think maybe it's an ear infection."

The doctor took one look at my calm, almost smiling baby and gave me a look of sympathy for my new, untested mothering skills. He said something along the lines of if she had an ear infection, she'd be screaming, but we'll take a look (subtext: to humor you).

Turns out she had a double ear infection. A bad one. Needless to say, he's never doubted me again. If I take one of them in and say they are sick - they are sick.

Mothers know their babies.

Grace has now been sick for a week. Fever on and off. Upset stomach. Sometimes fine. Sometimes really cranky. Just not acting herself. Yesterday she started throwing up and she kept throwing up all day. I did everything I could do to get fluid down her, but to no avail. She went to bed and slept a little and I thought we might be ok, but by midnight she was awake. 2 hours before she'd seemed sick but ok. At midnight she was listless and confused and I got scared.

So I called my mom and asked her if she thought I should take her to the ER. I described what I was seeing and my mom said "do you think she needs to go?"

"Yes."

"You are the mother. You know. If you think she needs to go, she needs to go."

So I decided to take her to the ER. I woke up Chad - who also seemed listless and confused, but I'm pretty sure for different reasons. I wrapped her up and headed off into the night.

At the ER - Dehydration confirmed. Oh, and by the way, they asked, has she had a step culture this week?

Nope.

Culture performed.

Strep confirmed.

Fever rash discovered on chest and cheeks.

Nausea medicine given.

Tylenol administered.

Hydration commenced.

A few sips of Sprite, 1 glass of water, 1 orange Popsicle and 1 graham cracker later she was looking better. Less sallow, less ready to die.

1 GIANT antibiotic administered. Grace has never swallowed a pill before and this was quite a first pill to swallow. She got it down - tough cookie.

1 more glass of water and we thought we were ready to go home...

But Grace's heart rate was so high they decided not to let her go until it came down. So we sat for another couple of hours and sipped water, ate another Popsicle, nibbled on another graham cracker, texted Grandma Sharon and watched tennis. (yes, she chose tennis...)

After a trip to the restroom (yay!) the doctor said though her heart rate was not quite as low as he wanted it, but he felt comfortable sending her home. I should push as much fluid on her as possible and if I had any concerns bring her right back.

Today, she's resting. Sick, but not quite as miserable. Tucked in her bed with a portable DVD player and a stack of movies. Surrounded by fluids which I push on her every 5 min. She's eaten a little and she's quite a toasty little bundle as I try to get this fever to break. So I just keep praying and loving on her.

And putting my hand on her chest to see if her little heart is beating normally, which it seems to be.

Brynn asked me today if it is hard to take care of kids when they are throwing up. "It's not fun" I said, "but you do what you have to do, because you love your babies."

"When I'm a mom and my kids throw up, I won't know what to do."

"Of course you will. You'll know exactly what to do."

"'Cause you'll teach me?"

"Cause I'll teach you. And because mothers always know."

January 17th and all I've got is random.

2011-01-17T20:49:00.002-07:00

I feel like any minute something really significant will happen and I'll be here. Primed. Fingertips on the keyboard. Ready to write about it. But until then....I guess all I've got is random.

1. Sometimes things have to get a whole lot worse before they can get better. That's true of a lot of things, isn't it? Case in point - the basement. Chad and I are in week three of the massive basement clean out. Neither of us want to keep going. We kind of want to light a match and hope that the fire will be contained within the walls of the storage room. Since the laws of physics make that highly unlikely, we just keep cleaning. Good news is this week - we found the floor!!! I knew it was there somewhere. I suppose I can go on.

2. The children have a serious case of the crazies. I think it's winter. We've entered that crappy part of winter where it has been gray for 87 straight days, except that one Sunday and you couldn't go out and ride your bike because it was Sunday. The children need sun. They need fresh air. They need to play with people outside this gene pool.

3. Because the children are crazy, I am crazy. I really really really really want them to stop screeching. I'm sharper than I should be. I'm speaking in my loud voice more often than I want to. Chad taught them some horrible trick with balloons that makes a sound so loud and obnoxious it would curl your eyebrows. And tonight, within the tiny confined walls of the van, they made the aforementioned sound all the way home from the store. On purpose. Because they knew it was driving me crazy. And driving me crazy is super fun (if you didn't know).

So they all got out and went in and I sat in the car trying to decide it I would bang my head against the dashboard or not. Then I realized in a moment of pre-dashboard banging clarity that nearly half of my intense day to day mothering is over. I better love what I've got left, cause from the looks of it they really are going to grow up. So I went in, helped everyone get ready for bed in the fuzziest pjs I could find. Then I hosted a snuggle/book reading party on my bed. I loved on them and loved on them and loved on them some more. Then I tucked them in and laid down with them for a few minutes. I gave them lots of hugs and kisses and whispered kind, soothing things into their tiny ears.

Then I hid those stupid balloons.

4. Exercise. Egads. I am participating with Chad and his brother in the work out for 90 days and earn a great reward program. My last week was a huge fail. I exercised Monday. Then I got distracted with the science project, work and church meetings. Then I got the worst headache I've ever had in my life (and for me that's really saying something) and spent 2 straight days in bed. Then it was Sunday. The resting day in the exercise program. According to Chad, my week of woe doesn't put me out of the running for the really great reward. I should just start fresh. So I did. 1 day down. Baby steps.

5. It is going to be hard to stick to my self imposed not eating too much junk plan plan during Valentine's season. (Note: I'm not banning all junk - that would be impossible. I'm just trying to limit my junk intake.) Valentine's boasts my absolute favorite candy every - Brach's conversation hearts. I {heart} them. (rim shot) I really do. Only Brach's. All other conversation hearts are disgusting, but Brach's rock. I know everyone claims they are disgusting and no one in their right mind would eat those. That could be true, but then riddle me this - why do they always sell out at the store? Uh huh. Lots of closet candy conversation heart eaters out there. I love them so much that today, January 17th, I bought a bag at the store. That's right a bag - or maybe 5- whatever.

That was good random, yet cathartic. Here's hoping tomorrow brings sun.

Christmas 2010

2011-01-13T10:54:00.001-07:00

Santa Claus is kind of dumb. To be fair, the majority of his electronics purchases are Apple products. Apple products come ready to use straight out of the box complete with everything you need. Cords, batteries, headphones, etc all there for your convenience. They are even charged, so you don't have to wait to enjoy your purchase.

Santa brought Grace an iPod nano. No waiting, just unwrap, load songs and listen before the wrapping paper hits the trash can.

the only thing she wanted

Santa brought Brynn a camera. A find product to be sure, but Santa didn't realize the camera would not come with a memory card. You can not take pictures on your brand new camera without a memory card. Hence, Santa is dumb.

In an effort to help Santa save face I removed the memory card from my same brand camera and put it in Brynn's new camera. Hence this year's Christmas fesitvities are brought to you in a photo essay entitiled:

Christmas Day through the lens of a 6 year old.

Grace's karate sweatshirt - finally pried it off her two days ago to wash it, she's literally been wearing it since Christmas

mom and grace

Grace's iPod speakers

brynn set up this pose for dad

brynn's photo printer

group shot with grandma and grandpa C

Grandpa and Grandma

Uncle Ben and Aunt Anna

I took this one at brynn's request

for Christmas I gave Grandpa homemade sugar cookies and the beef stick he game me last year still wrapped in last year's paper and everything

group shot with horses

dad and mom

snuggling her horse

sisters and horses

horses and hats

birdcage in Grandma C's backyard

mom and tree - notice how all the angles are up? we are a lot taller than her!

brynn and liv, taken by grace

games at Grandma's

I'm a popular subject. Brynn probably took 25 pictures of me on Christmas. As publisher of the photo essay I'm choosing to share only those where I don't look stoned.

happy counsins

cloudy with a chance on meatballs to wrap up the day

Kind of menagerie of shots, but she did manage to capture all the highlights!

Tales of Woe.

2011-01-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday when we thought Grace might miss the science fair we tried to cheer her up by sharing with her our tales of childhood disappointment. I'm never sure how hearing about other people's traumas are supposed to cheer you up, but it must be the human way, because we all do it. Someone has issues and we sharing our issues so we can bond as a species.

Anyway, neither of us had thought of these experiences in a while, so I thought I should write them down.

Chad and Senior Prom Woe
Chad missed his Senior Prom because he had appendicitis. He called his date and she thought he was just trying to get out of going. Teenage girls, seriously. Apparently she felt bad when she came to visit him in the hospital. He ended up staying in the maternity ward after his surgery. No idea why...hospital overcrowding I guess. His rather unique gender for that area of the hospital got him lots of attention.

Lisa and Kindergarten Field Trip Woe

In kindergarten I went to a private school called Onslow Academy in Jacksonveille, North Carolina. My favorite lunch was butter and honey sandwiches on white bread (I've always been a healthy eater, haven't I?) and I missed the kindergarten field trip. We were going to my teacher's house for our field trip and she had a tree house. That's right a tree house. I remember being so excited only to get there that day and be told I had chicken pox. Chicken pox?!!? What the heck are chicken pox?

Apparently, Chicken Pox are little owies, that itch like the dickens are cause you to miss what would have otherwise been the best day of your life.I'm still bitter.

These are the tales that were supposed to ease Grace's sadness over missing the science fair...

Science Fair

2011-01-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

Grace insisted on doing a Science Fair project this year. She insisted last year too, but I insisted that she not and my insistence was much stronger. I'm bigger, older and meaner, so my insistence usually wins. But this year she REALLY wanted to do it, so I said ok.

She decided to do something with her catapult and a science fair project was born. She worked so hard. The experiment was fun - nothing better than shooting fishing weights across the downstairs family room. I thought what would come after would be very hard, but she was very committed. We learned about averages and she did all the math to calculate the averages and tally her results. And it was a lot of math.

She made a graph to show her results - on real live graph paper.

We read articles about the difference between mass and weight and how gravity affects weight. We read them several times and she looked back at me with glassy eyes, as if to say huh?? Apparently mass is a totally new concept to a 4th grader. So I showed her a picture of the Earth and the moon. And suddenly the idea just clicked - the Earth is really big and the moon is really small. The Earth has a lot of mass, therefore a lot of gravity, therefore things weigh more. The moon has less mass, therefore less gravity, therefore less weight.

"Mom, is that why on the moon astronauts are weightless?!?"

We have liftoff!!!

She wanted to type her own report. I set up my laptop at the table and sat next to her. We started with the research. "Ok type in this title and then we can write what you learned." So she started typing...

E

X

P

e

And I realized, uh oh, Grace types about 1 words every 5 minutes. At this rate she'll be in 9th grade before we get the report typed. So after she typed that first title I suggested we switch places. She dictated and I typed. I resisted every urge I had to write it for her and just typed what she told me to. Weird grammar and all.

I asked her question after question to help her practice for her interview. Chad had her walk through the whole board and explain to him her experiment, results, conclusion. We tried to help her learn to say the work Hypothesis, with very little success. We built the display board, which according to Grace is the best part of the project.

One night I found myself at the kitchen table up to my elbows in graph paper and science books and I started to panic a little. So much work. We'll never get it done. Just as I was about to slam my head on the tabletop in agony she put her hand on my shoulder and said "Boy mom, it has been so much fun working on this project with you."

With everything finally done we were ready for the Science Fair. Then she woke up in the middle of the night feverish and deliriousness and by morning the fever was gone, but she felt like crap. And she cried and cried. She wanted to go, worked so hard and now she wouldn't get to do it. So we bundled her up and Chad carried her into the school. We set up her project and I found the teacher and said "how hard would it be to interview her right now?"

So he did and Chad and I walked away so we didn't put any extra pressure on her. Back in the car, we asked her about the interview. "Fine she said. I just told him about my experiment and my hyperologist (hypothesis). He asked me some questions, but he didn't ask me about mass or averages or anything."

We went home and put her to bed and she slept all day.

At 3 o'clock we headed back over the school to pick up the project and when we walked in a blue ribbon was hanging off her board. She earned a first place ribbon! I'm so proud of her I could burst. She graciously received the congratulations of a few friends. She posed for a picture or two.

She carried that blue ribbon home like it was the most prized possession in the world. Last night I asked her why things are weightless on the moon and you know what she said? "Because the moon doesn't have very much mass."

The Science Fair as officially a success for everyone.

January: This month's blog banner brought to you by...

2011-01-11T09:06:00.002-07:00

Possibilities.