Inside the White House

A Fun Date Night Saturday

2012-02-13T14:38:00.006-07:00

Last Saturday Kent and I had a fun and out-of-the-ordinary date. We met my parents at a new restaurant on the recommendation of my dad who has eaten lunch there a few times. We loved this place!

It's called The Center Street Bistro, and is on the first two floors of The Madison. The address is 295 W Center in Provo. It's in the building that used to be Provo Craft (I believe).

We sat on the mezzanine floor in the front corner by the windows, where we could watch everything below us on Center Street. But we were way more interested in the building we were in. The ambience is old and hip at the same time. We actually gave ourselves a tour while we waited for our food. There are tables tucked into nooks throughout the first two floors, as well as sofas, lounging chairs, and many other interesting furniture pieces. (I liked the table made from an antique door, located by the men's restroom.)

The food was really good too! Kent had an amazing mocha burger, which tasted like chocolate, not coffee. I had a chicken salad with sweet basalmic dressing. Our meals together cost $18. Awesome! Instead of peanuts or chips, the complimentary appetizer was a delicious hummus and fried flat bread.

I'm talking this place up mostly because I want it to stay in business. They opened in October, and though they had a few kinks with the food, those seem to be worked out now. But the place was empty! That made it nice a quiet for our dinner conversation--and we plan to visit it tomorrow for Valentine's Day because there will likely be no wait--but customers seriously need to be filling it up. You can check out this review from the Daily Herald if you have doubts. (It's a fair review; just be sure to read about the author's second visit.) I would guess that the neon signs, which are hanging in every window, advertising beer are sending the wrong signals to non-drinkers who would love this place as much as we did. If it were my business, I would hang the neon signs in the windows of the third-floor Cowboy Bar, and leave the lower windows empty so people can look through them and see what a great place it is.

After dinner, we headed to the kids' school, Freedom Preparatory Academy for a Trivia Night fundraiser. I had carefully put together a team of brilliant people...and we mostly relied on my dad to carry us. That's not to say that we didn't all contribute (I was the only one to supply answers during the round about Freedom Academy), but we won the grand prize by six questions, which were the difficult ones about the Marx Brothers and recognizing photos of dead people that only my dad knew. The rest of the team included my mom, my brother and my sis-in-law (his wife) and her parents. The other three parents did win us lots of questions by buying 20 mulligans, which gave us free answers. And Jenni's dad supplied the Smart Water. Kent had loaded up on caffeine on dinner, but I think the Smart Water did the trick.

(Did I mention that Jennifer Aniston was on our team? Oh, that's because she wasn't.)

That's right, I said our table won the grand prize! In addition, we won two other rounds outright, and a third by default. (Ironically, as a team we felt least prepared to answer questions about sports, but that was the first round we won.) We raked in coupons for free ice cream cones (244 such coupons!), $50 per person off new tires (bad timing--Kent and I replaced the tires on both our vehicles last month), gift certificates to a local restaurant, free dessert being served that night, and tickets to some Jazz games! Woo hoo! Additionally, the four couples at our table won six of the silent auctions. I can't wait until next year when we can defend our win!

Aha!

2012-02-08T11:33:00.001-07:00

Every weekend, #2's BFF, Sadilla Milla (our nickname for her), spends the night. We love having her around as she is very easy going and also willing to pitch in with chores. She blends in with my kids so well that I often mistake her for #1.

Anyway, #2 and her BFF always want to sleep in the playroom. We have a real bed and a makeshift bed in there, so there's room for both of them. We don't, however, have heat in there, which I would think would be a problem, but apparently being frigid doesn't bother them. Or maybe it does, and they are keeping mum because they just aren't willing to compromise their little secret!

Today I made a discovery. In one of my regular searches for something I had misplaced, I resorted to looking through the nooks and crannies of the playroom. After Edwin left last fall, we kept his dresser in there, thinking it would be a good place to store toys. Well look what else it stores:

Now, in years past we've had mice in the house, which led to a very strict rule about which rooms were allowed to contain food. Hint: it's none of them! (Other than the kitchen and dining rooms.) So my kids have to be secretive about sneaking food to other rooms. I'm impressed that they are willing suffer in the cold to be able to nibble through the nights. On the other hand, I'm perplexed that they would continue this sneaky snacking on stale food. When I saw the chips--a favorite to dip in cottage cheese--I popped one in my mouth. Blech! The subdued flavor of clothes mixed with old dresser wood had mingled with the open bag of stale chips in a not-gourmet manner. Double blech!

While I was at it, I also found #1's swimsuit, which she had been missing since Christmas, and which, in recent days was the subject of an accusation that may have been thrown at me and/or my laundry sorting abilities. It's a good thing I can let teenage accusations roll off my back. Next time such a complaint flies my way, I'll whip out this piece of photographic evidence:

*For the record, I'm glad #2 thought to hide "stolen" food in drawers rather than her clothing. I have two separate friends who have discovered their children using a more unusual place to stash the evidence. Apparently, when a four-year old is sneaking a cookie--or even ice cream!--the first hiding place that comes to mind is the front of her pants!

Follow-Up to Birthday House

2012-02-07T19:31:00.003-07:00

(How have two weeks flown by since my last post?! So much for my New Year's resolution.)

I thought I'd post a follow-up before moving on with more recent happenings. My last post Part 1 WAS Part Only. I made myself a Chinese New Year's dinner, and #4 made me a Chinese birthday hat and dragon mask. (Go year of the dragon!) The kids made a little bit of an effort to clean the house a little bit...and Kent rescued me from the mess by taking me out for a birthday treat. We tried a new place in Orem called Rollup Crepes. The atmosphere was fun, the crepes were good, but the Nutella hot chocolate was the best! Kent and I kept wondering as we sipped it down how we had never thought to add Nutella to that favorite cold-weather drink. I now have Nutella hiding in my cupboard for just that purpose. Mmmm...

We have since cleaned the house rather thoroughly--hosting two parties in one weekend will do that--and I have high hopes that we can maintain. So far we're at five days and counting!

Birthday House: Part One--Part Only?

2012-01-23T16:00:00.004-07:00

I normally give myself a clean house for my birthday. Today, the starting point was so discouraging that I decided to just avoid this house altogether. I dropped the kids off for breakfast at school (no room for food prep in the kitchen), and used a BOGO coupon to get Gandolfo's breakfast sandwiches for me and #5. (The Radio City with Swiss instead of American cheese. Yum!) Then I renewed my driver's license, made this video (be glad you can't smell it--I think our dishwasher may be leaking, but I don't want to know about that until tomorrow), and then I enjoyed an afternoon at my friend Kelly's house. She put on a birthday lunch for me. So far it's been a lovely day not being home.

Yesterday #5 was very excited about the big birthday surprise the kids have in store for me. About seven seconds after telling me he was so excited for my surprise, he spilled the beans and told me I'm supposed to run errands or nap on my birthday so the kids can get the house sparkling clean. It's now 4:10 p.m. and I'm going to run errands. And #5 didn't even ruin the surprise, because I'll still be VERY surprised if this place is clean before their bedtime. Take a look:

The "Pleage of Alegenst"

2012-01-19T21:41:00.002-07:00

#4 (second grade) might not be the best speller yet, but at least she is patriotic.

I found this old gift bag hanging from a mini American flag on the shelf in her room. Now that she has written the words, the pledge is a cinch. I've even caught her and #5 facing this bag and reverently reciting the pledge with their hands on their hearts and their attention on the Stars and Stripes.

A couple months ago, in the same patriotic spirit, #5 (Kindergarten) broke out singing the National Anthem while he accompanied me for an errand in the Assistant Director's office at his school. There was a poster displaying a photo of the flag, and #5 just couldn't help himself. When he finished singing, I gave him a hug, and the A.D. commented on how much he loves that song.

A No-School Holiday

2012-01-16T20:50:00.006-07:00

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day everyone.

Here's a look at how my kids spent their free day.

#4 hung out with her siblings and colored and made cookies.

#2 went surfing.

#1 made baby shower invitation with her friends. They are throwing a shower for their Church leader who recently adopted a newborn.

#s 3 and 5 played with friends...who like to use people as canvases. (#5 was happy to be the Spider King all day.)

I spent two hours making the kitchen cleaner. (Not clean; just -er.) After two hours, I was happy to switch tasks and catch up on my work for ACHF (the foundation). Is it lame that my holidays are just days to do different work besides driving kids around all day? I did my work to an interview on the radio about the history of civil rights activism, which was interesting...and maybe the kids subconsciously learned a few things. Overall, it was nice to have a free day commemorating the mostly peaceful battle that made our country more free for all its citizens.

Laser Tag

2012-01-08T18:53:00.000-07:00

A few months ago we coughed up the money for the Utah Pass of Passes for each member of our family. Because I hate wasting money, we've put these passes to good use. One included attraction is the Trafalga Fun Center in Lehi, which has a pretty good laser tag course. Laser tag became popular when I was a college student, but I blew it off as a childish activity. I'm glad I gave it a second chance, because it's actually quite fun to get together with a bunch of adult friends and run around in the dark shooting each other with beams of light.

My kids are also picking up on the fun of this game.

When #5 was in charge of our Family Home Evening activity recently, he asked if we could go play laser tag. Lehi is too far to drive for FHE. Undaunted, he and #4 disappeared into their room for the rest of the afternoon to put together a homemade laser tag activity.

When the time came, they brought out our vests and suited us up.

#5 showed us all how to make our laser "hand guns". He was very patient with those of us who couldn't get our gun's barrel facing the correct way!

Then they split us into teams and showed us our recharging stations. My team recharged by standing by a kitchen chair and waiting for #4 (the referee) to beep, which let us know our gun was live again.

We turned out most of the lights and ran around shooting each other. If we got shot five times, we had to recharge. #4 monitored the whole game. She gave us a countdown when time was running out, and then gathered all of us to announce the scores. The all-girls team had SIX points! But the co-ed team had EIGHT! I made at least 20 hits, so I think the scoring was a little off. But we had a great time of it! Thanks for thinking of a great activity #5.

New Year, New Resolution

2012-01-04T21:10:00.007-07:00

First of all, may I just say...

WHAT THE HECK?!!

How did I miss an entire nine weeks of blogging? Sure, I've been busy keeping up with Christmas and getting 117 people to Mexico and back...but still.

Before I fill you in on my 2012 resolutions, may I remind you of my first-ever resolution, which I made one year ago. In addition to cleaning my master bathroom once per month (as Kent's Christmas gift--and I'll admit to missing the month of October), I resolved to clean my dishes within five days of using them.

You might think that with four children who are capable of doing dishes--plus one who tries to be capable--this is a silly goal. But there is something about the so-called "hand dishes" that frightens my children and (literally) draws forth tortuous wails when I remind them there are pots and pans waiting on the stove that won't fit in the dishwasher. When a child is still moping around the kitchen as I lock up for the night and go to bed, I usually just give in and tell them to get the dishwasher going and go to bed as well. Then I wash the hand dishes sometime in the future. I know I'm contributing to the perpetual problem; but honestly, I'm a little grossed out by what my kids consider a "washed" dish. At least the dishwasher sanitizes their efforts; and if I wash the larger dishes myself, I know they are clean. (If you are a parent and you are rolling your eyes right now, I'm sure it's because you are reflecting on your own children's dish-washing complaints, and not my poor parenting skills. Am I right?)

Return and report: At the beginning of 2011, I found my resolution quite motivating and stayed on top of the dishes really well with my little goal nagging at the back of my mind. My efforts soon became habit, and I think I did pretty well over the year. Of course, it helped a great deal that our six-month house guest, Edwin, took it upon himself to clean the dishes (and counters, and floors) each day. My kitchen never looked so good for so long! Now I'm back to the three- or four-day clean-kitchen schedule. But at least I'm still within my five-day threshold!

And now, the part of this blog you've all been waiting for:
Mary's New Year's Resolutions 2012!

But first, a random photo:

We were in Mexico for New Year's Eve last week. Our group bought some fireworks. Most of them were just really loud, although a few people picked up bottle rockets. No one bought this stick of dynamite, but I am curious what it would have done.

(I felt like this way-too-long post needed another picture. Now back to the resolutions.)

It's probably a bad idea to attempt more than one resolution in any given year, but I'm going to go for it.

Resolution #1: I want to bring balance and relaxation into my life. I've realized that even though I would like those things to spontaneously show up every day--or at least every week...or maybe month?--that's not going to happen. So I need to schedule relaxation in. My resolution is to practice yoga and at least 15 minutes of meditation once each week. For a few years now, I've felt that meditation is the tool I should be using to keep my mind strong and to improve my relationship with God. I was good at it for several months back in 2010. (Or was it 2009? Like I said, I need to strengthen my mind.) Then I fell out of the habit. Neglecting meditation certainly hasn't improved anything about my spiritual relationship, and I've felt adrift for awhile now. I'm throwing yoga in with it because I love the positive energy I get when I take the time for a longish yoga routine. I'm not talking about the 15-min yoga videos that quickly take one through a series of toning stretches. I really like the Ali MacGraw video, which I've had on loan for at least a year now from my friend, Mindy. (Yes Mindy, I know I should one day return your VHS tape...but not yet. I hope you don't mind.) The yoga master eases slowly into the poses and lets you hold them for a good stretch. It takes 50 minutes to get through, but it's good exercise and relaxation all in one. If anyone else can recommend a good yoga or meditation tape, I'm willing to try some new ones, too.

Resolution #2: Post to this blog at least once each week. Okay...at the VERY least, twice per month. I've missed recording some funny kid moments and fun family times. I'll probably play a bit of catch up, but mostly I don't want to lose those memories or the ones still to be made.

In conclusion, it's too bad my bathrooms and kitchen are going to fall apart again this year. At least I had a good run with them. I figure if the world is ending this year anyway, who cares about mildew and sticky floors? I might as well face the end times with a relaxed attitude and some digital memories along the way.

What are your resolutions for 2012?

Driving Around in My Automobile: Part Deux

2011-11-01T16:34:00.001-06:00

Today when I parked at the kids' school to pick them up, I glanced at my odometer, which read: 110111 I know it's geeky cool, but how often does your odometer match the current date?

In other travel news, now that the weather is cooling off, the cats--which I don't want to claim, but they have been hanging around for eight years so maybe I should accept that they are ours--have started sneaking into the garage to spend the night. Usually we set out a box of kitty litter and don't have much of a problem with them spending winter nights there. Plus, they keep down the mice population. Unfortunately, this week we weren't so prepared...and we didn't know they had sneaked in when Kent parked the car until the next morning...

When Kent and the kids hurried away from breakfast to load up and attempt to get to school on time, they discovered a fresh-ish pile of cat poopy on the roof of Kent's car. With no time to search for plastic gloves to clean the mess, they all headed off to school. #4 told me all about the strange looks cast toward the car at the drop-off line. Students and teachers alike were doing double takes. My girls huddled in the car for a few seconds until they thought fewer people were looking, and then hurried into the school. Only a few of their friends were on to them. Fortunately, my kids have strong self-concepts and found mostly humor in the situation. I don't think anyone endured any teasing.

Kent brought the car right back home for me to deal with. He came in gagging and said just looking at that little pile on his car made him want to vomit. I had it cleaned up in less than a minute. To give him credit, I can't deal with certain mold scents that we find lurking in Tupperware in the back reaches of the fridge, let alone dead animals that show up around our house. He's disposed of birds, mice, a rat, a cat, and a skunk! So one pile of feces is a good trade I figure.

Do you and your spouse have complimentary weak stomachs for different things? Or is there one mess that neither of you can deal with well? What is you kryptonite?

By the way, anyone want a free cat or two?

MIA

2011-10-26T11:36:00.001-06:00

Yes, I know I've been neglecting my blog. If it makes you feel better, I've barely checked any of yours in the past three months too! And hey, do you like the new layout? Just be sure to click on the window to see the whole post. You'll know you've reached the end of a post when you see my name and a time stamp.

I was able to snap a mugshot of the culprit behind my MIA status:

But the paintbrush isn't in this alone.

Several weeks ago I received an anonymous letter with an anonymous gift from an anonymous friend. (It all sounds very suspicious, doesn't it?)

Whoever it was really knows how to push my buttons.

I've spent those past several weeks repainting my room.

It all started very innocently. My friend suggested a nice brown paint for my walls, I found some free "lumber" (reclaimed fence posts and boards), and several pieces of furniture that were marked for goodwill (DI) because they couldn't bring in the cash at Kent's office furniture store. Now I'm in over my head on a project that is taking too long (don't most home projects do that?)...and new carpet is coming on Friday.

Really, I'm not complaining. I think the master bedroom will turn out amazing. I just hope it's not another month before I get to post it all on this blog.

It's surprising how much trouble one little paintbrush can cause:

Fall, Break

2011-10-25T11:12:00.000-06:00

Someone should have suggested that the idyllic weather we had through this past extended weekend was meant to beckon us outdoors. Instead, we tried our luck indoors...and it did not go well. We had a lot of this happen:

In an effort to prepare for the cold weather, I designated our Fall Break for canning and winter clothes sorting. We ended up with three canning explosions (two in the pressure cooker and one jar of pickled hot peppers in my face), one broken jar of delicious salsa verde on the floor, and seven exploded boxes of clothes all over the house. To wrap up the messy weekend, I ended up getting the flu, which I think caused an inflamed nerve in my ear, which resulted in nauseating vertigo for a day. Thankfully, my kids were around to send for help and hot pepper oil remedies as well as to feed the family through my illness; and thankfully again, they went back to school today. Maybe tomorrow I can begin the recovery process.

It wasn't all bad. We did play a little, including more falls (minus any breaks) at the skating rink.

Still, I'm really not sure how I'll survive Christmas break!

P.S. Lest I deter anyone from preserving their harvest, the canning explosions were due to our mistakes. The bands were on the jars way too tight, which didn't let them vent. And the explosions in the pressure cooker happened when someone tried to speed up the cooling process by removing the regulator. Now that we've experienced a few physics lessons, more members of our family are educated in the art of canning. (Maybe I should also let the responsible party have a lesson in removing pepper shrapnel from the cupboards where it has dried quite nicely.)

Flowers in Film

2011-09-12T03:54:00.005-06:00

Last fall I planted a couple thousand bulbs in my front yard perennial flower beds. This past spring was the first season for them to show their stuff, and I recorded the show in a series of photos taken every few days. Toward the end of the movie clip, the spacing was every week or two, because the allium just hung around forever.

Allium are more impressive in person. They remind me of purple fireworks in the garden. Wait until you see how I use them in home decor!

Anyway, here's the movie. Or one of them. I realize some of you think it's crazy that I love flowers so much. BUT, if you want to see all three movies, taken from different parts of the yard, you can visit my gardening blog: How My Garden Grows. The longest little filmstrip is less than two minutes.

Pretty nice, eh? I bought all the bulbs online from a company called Colorblends. I highly recommend them if you want an impressive bulb bed. I'm already looking forward to an improved show in years to come!

Reason to Have Kids: Entertainment Value

2011-09-02T20:34:00.006-06:00

Scene 1: One night last week, Kent walked into the younger kids' room to tuck them in. #4 was busy with a pencil and school worksheets, and #5 was crawling around on the floor.

Kent: It's time for lights out kids.

#4: Dad, I need help with my math homework.

#5, without missing a beat: Dad, I need help being a horse.

Scene 2: Last weekend, when the children were supposed to be getting their cleaning done so they could play the rest of the weekend, I came home from running errands to find this.

Hey, I find "Malcom in the Middle" pretty irresistible too. But COME ON! Did they really think no one would notice them spending forbidden TV/online shows time if they huddled under a blanket?

Scene 3: Today while he was eating lunch, I asked #5 if his teacher would be back today. (He had a substitute the last two days.) Here's his reply:

#5: Yeah, I think she'll be back. You want me to tell you why?

(He always asks if we want more information and then waits for a response instead of just following up with the information.)

Me: Yes. Why?

#5: Because today we are learning the letter K, and that's a hard letter. I don't think the other lady could teach it very well.

Wow. I want my children to think independently and not assume that their school teachers are always correct, but what a huge underestimation of the abilities of adults! It's a good thing a certified teacher will be there to instruct about the letter K. !!!

Moab!

2011-08-28T20:46:00.015-06:00

Last year, Kent and I wanted to take our kids camping; but we never set aside a time to do it, and suddenly school was back in and then it was snowing. This year, we decided to PLAN a camping trip, and when I came across a bargain for a rafting trip in Moab (found on CityDeals.com) in March, I jumped at it. And lucky for us, our friends, the Petersons, happened to be visiting when I saw the deal online, and they got in on it too. Within a few weeks, we had campsites and the trip date reserved and on the calendar.

At the beginning of August, we spent three days in Moab. Even though our campsite (at Ron's Pack Creek Campground, which we liked) backed up to a stream and was shaded by river trees, the sun was still beating on us at 100 degrees as we set up camp. But almost as soon as our tent was up, a brief rain storm blew through and left us with a cool evening.

We decided to visit Delicate Arch in Arches National Park before it got dark, and the timing turned out to be perfect. The desert was still wet from the rain, the air was cool, and the sunset against the arch was amazing.

#1 got this great photo of Delicate Arch.

The only disappointment came from #5 who looked around at the small crowd viewing the arch and said, "Where's the guy selling the license plates?"

It grew dark as we drove back to camp, and we had a late dinner to fill our sleepy kid's stomachs before they conked out.

In the morning, I woke the children saying they needed to wake up or we'd be late, at which point I revealed the surprise rafting trip. One kid was excited because she apparently has always wanted to go rafting, one thought it sounded fun, one wanted to keep sleeping, one informed us that she hates rafting, and one was indifferent. (Kind of the same response as the time we surprised them by showing up at Disneyland, and all they wanted to do was get in the hotel where they could watch cable TV.) I'm starting to learn that I should keep my expectations low when I try to surprise them.

Anyway, we went rafting for the day.

Once everyone was suited up and headed up river in the bus, the excitement started to build. We chose a rather calm river trip hosted by World Wide River Expeditions. The most challenging rapids were a class three, which was great for our young families. No one fell out, but everyone got wet!

Even #4--who had protested very much about our camping trip, insisting vehemently, "I hate camping. I hate the nature."--ending up loving the rafting, as evidenced by this photo:

The air by the water was cooler than the rest of the desert, and whenever we got hot, we just jumped in and floated alongside the raft.

The river guides provided lunch at a beach midway through the trip, and it was nice to just float and talk and not have a care in the world.

That evening, following a Dutch oven dinner, we had another lovely hike in Arches where we all climbed around on the rocks and sat in a stone window to watch the sun set.

On Saturday, we took down camp and rested at a park in town. The playground was a group of oversized chimes, drums, and xylophones that kept all of us, children and adults, entertained for quite some time. Then, going with our play-it-by-ear theme, we discussed plans for the rest of the day. Our neighbor had recommended a Hummer tour on the slick rock, but it was too pricey for this trip's budget. We had wanted to go sledding down the sand dunes, but we were already too hot. So we opted to head home with a detour to Dead Horse Point.

The view was amazing! Getting photos there was humorous in the wind. (#4 looks like Cousin It! I guess I can see why she's not in love with "The Nature".)

There isn't much hiking to do there, but we spent two hours at the visitor's center learning about the geology and ecology of that portion of desert. There was a photo gallery downstairs where I found some fantastic artwork that I would like for my home someday. #5 and the Petersons' #3 became Junior Rangers--she did most of the work.

Plus, we got a second "passport" stamp in our Utah State Parks Field Guide.

We spent the rest of the day enjoying our air-conditioned vehicles, and grabbed dinner together in Provo before our friends continued home up north. It was nice to arrive home in the early evening and have time and energy to unpack and start laundry. Even though much of the trip was played by ear, everything worked out perfectly and I enjoyed the short vacation immensely. It was really fun to camp with friends, too. Besides having plenty of good conversation and someone to split meal duties, we could send grumpy kids to the other family's vehicle and they would almost magically be on better behavior. We came home having enjoyed our children because they enjoyed themselves more with others too. And now that I know there is so much to do in Moab, I look forward to saving up for horseback riding, Hummer tours, and late-night dining when we go again.

This Year's Favorite Mutant Vegetable

2011-08-24T12:29:00.005-06:00

The harvest has begun! #5 and I picked 27 pounds of Roma tomatoes Monday morning, and by that evening, they had been transformed into quarts of spaghetti sauce sitting on my kitchen counter. All except for one tomato.

Kent called it Devil Tomato. I called it Wilbur.

See? Just put another little deformed tomato--notice the "pony tail"--on top and you have a cute little thing. Wilbur was "some tomato".

What can I say? We Whites, E.B. and me, like to save farm products from their natural fate.

Unfortunately, while my little Wilbur/devil tomato was saved from the sauce, the kids called dibs on eating its "arms" seconds after I took these photos. I didn't even get to put a little shirt on it. Sadly, s/he (or it?) is no longer with us. But my, homegrown tomatoes sure taste good!

Milestone

2011-08-17T17:01:00.000-06:00

Do you know what this picture means?

That's right! I have three hours to myself each weekday!

Oh yeah, it also means all five of my children are in school. !!!

Our charter school has grades K-8, making this the only school year that they all will attend the same school. (Are you noticing the word school popping up a lot? I'm pretty excited about this.) I've already over committed myself to helping at the school a lot this year. I even suggested to the eigth-grade language arts teacher that I might like to sit in on her class. They are studying some great thinkers and materials this year. I'll probably have to settle, though, for simply reading the poetry, essays, speeches, and books that she brings home, and then subject her to a re-hash of her classroom discussions. Maybe I'll call it our Family Dinnertime Book Club. (I should get extra credit for this.)

I am SO ready to return to the more normal schedule of bedtimes and morning alarm clocks. Now, how to fill those three, lonely hours? Maybe I'll catch up on everything I've put off for the past five years; my bathroom could certainly use a good cleaning!

How Funny He Is: Part 2

2011-08-07T23:18:00.001-06:00

While I'm at it, I might as well record the other funny thing he said tonight.

We were playing the spray bottle game at Family Home Evening. This is where the person who is "it" thinks of an item from a particular category and points a spray bottle at the players as they each guess the item.

When Edwin was "it", he chose "Old Testament prophets" as the category. #5's first guess in the round was, "Thomas S. Monson, because he's really old." The next time it came around, I clarified that we were guessing prophets from the Bible before Christ was born. With an excited look of eureka, #5 jumped up with his hand in the air and said, "I know who it is!" Then his hand wilted and he scratched the top of his head with his index finger. "What is his name? I can't remember his name." After a moment of intense concentration: "Oh yeah! The guy with the gray hair!" We were already in a silly mood, and that put me over the top! "Well, at least we know he didn't mean Moses or Deborah!" I answered.

Bible humor is the best!

He Doesn't Even Know How Funny He Is

2011-08-07T22:47:00.002-06:00

Tonight while I was making dinner, #5 repeatedly expressed how hungry he was and that he couldn't wait any longer to eat. I gave him a banana, but five minutes later he was back at my side.

#5: Mom, I'm really hungry, so I can't help that I'm going to starting rhyming.

My thoughts: (Huh? Oh! He's heard us talk about how kids get whiny when they're hungry, but he thought we said kids get rhymy.)

#5: Truck, luck, duck. The duck in the truck had luck.

Then he did a little dance in place in the kitchen, obviously in a much better mood.

#5: That's silly, huh? 'Cause those words all rhyme.

And then under his breath: Truck, luck, duck, f***. Those all rhyme!

Me: Wow! Yes they do!

BTW, hearing swear words out of the innocent mouth of a five-year-old is just funny!

Isn't It Ironic, Don't You Think?

2011-07-13T03:59:00.004-06:00

Yes, this is the correct time stamp. I admit to sometimes manipulating my posts' time stamps to reflect when I wish I had had time to write promptly. Well, today at 4:00 a.m. I guess I have time to post since I'm still wide awake anyway.

It all started about half an hour ago. Actually, it all started last night, but 3:33 a.m. is when I woke up with no chance of getting back to sleep any time soon. I just find the situation too funny.

Last night the kids begged and begged us to let them sleep in a tent outside. We didn't have time to set up a real tent, and we were afraid they would be eaten alive by the clouds of mosquitoes we've had this summer if they slept in the open air. So we turned them down. However, they were determined, and frankly, they wore me and Kent down with their petitioning. With their promises that we, their parents, wouldn't have to lift a finger for this endeavor, we let them sleep in their toy tipi. It only stands five feet tall, and I don't know how the square footage accommodates them all, but they managed to fit four pillows, sleeping bags, and children in there.

We gave several words of advice:

1. Cover yourselves in bug repellent.

2. Leave the sliding door slightly open so no one gets locked out during the night.

3. (From Kent) Lay down a tarp so the sleeping bags don't get wet. [Of course, he meant so they wouldn't get wet from the morning dew on the ground.]

4. (From sarcastic me) Try not to let the sprinklers bother you when they come on at three in the morning.

*Note: I didn't know Kent had given his advice about the tarp until I saw them dragging one out during their setup, and they told me what he had said.

Of course, wanting to prove themselves worthy and capable of sleeping outside, they attended to our advice as much as possible, sensing (correctly) that if they became a nuisance at any point during the night, they would not get to repeat this adventure. They even piped down permanently when I called out at 10 p.m. that they were talking too loudly. I had fully expected giggles and shrieks and games of tag at midnight; but they were on good behavior, and I didn't hear a peep from them after that.

I smiled ironically to myself when, at 10:40 p.m. the mosquito abatement truck finally started the rounds on our street for the first time this year. He made several passes with his flashing lights and noisy sprayer pump. Any neighbors who might have been asleep were now awake, and my children were now coated in repellent AND mosquito death spray.

Skip ahead to 3:33 a.m.

#3 knocked on my bedroom door and cautiously came in. When I moaned and rolled over and asked her what she wanted, she sheepishly replied, "One of the sprinklers is really big and we can't get away from it. Could you turn just that one off?"

What? The sprinklers really did come on?!

We've had the system turned off since last Thursday because a line broke. Kent fixed it last evening. When I made my sarcastic little comment to the kids, I thought about the likelihood that the sprinklers would actually come on and decided it wouldn't happen. The system is set to water the lawn every eight days, so really, what are the chances that my kids would get watered? (Yes, I was too lazy to make sure the interval hadn't worked through the eight days while the water had been turned off all weekend.)

My earlier laziness now forced me to put on my bathrobe and head for the sprinkler box in the garage at 3:30-ish a.m. On the way, I noticed a lamp in the front room was turned on.

I adjusted the lawn sprinkler interval to stay off for another day, and #3 tentatively asked, "Are you sure you turned off the big sprinkler?"

"I turned off ALL the sprinklers. I'm sorry you got wet."

After our comments about the sprinklers and the tarp, the kids thought the sprinklers were a necessary evil. They spent half an hour moving the tarp, sleeping bags, and tipi around the yard trying to avoid the cycle of sprinklers before working up the courage to send #3 with the request to turn off just one of the sprinkler heads. (I guess they don't really understand how a sprinkler system works.) Someone must have inadvertently locked the sliding door following a late-night bathroom trip, because she couldn't get in from the deck. Instead, she walked through the wet grass to the front door and rang the doorbell. That must have woken Edwin up, who didn't know how to help them; but he left the lamp on (which also illuminates his quarters) for #3 while she worked up the nerve to wake me.

It became a sleepless night for all of us. Except #1 who spent the night at Grammy's with a friend. Although, knowing Grammy, they are probably also awake watching a movie or talking.

Kent frequently tells me that the great thing about camping is the bonding that happens when the family works together to fix everything that goes wrong. The problems that arise during a camping trip might be annoying at the time, but they make for good--or at least fond--memories. Looks like our family doesn't even have to leave home to get these kinds of experiences.

*yawn*

The Memory is the First Thing To Go

2011-07-11T22:02:00.005-06:00

Today the chiropractor asked me if anything new and unusual happened to me over the weekend. My answer: I became the mother of a teenager.

On the morn of her birthday, with her present in hand, I crawled into bed with #1. I brutally hugged her awake and proclaimed, "Happy Birthday!" She rolled over and said, "Oh yeah. Oh yeah! It IS my birthday." I'd always thought my memory started declining when sleepless nights with this same child as a newborn started sucking away my brain cells. Now I know: teenage brains really aren't all there from the get-go. It's going to be a long road until she gets her pink slip on life as an adult; I'm sure the time will fly by.

Her Aunt Carolyn brought Grandpa Al's old guitar--I mean, "The Carlos"--down to Provo yesterday and presented it with her gifts. #1 has been wanting to take guitar lessons for quite some time, so maybe now that can become a reality. (Anyone want to teach her in exchange for piano lessons from yours truly?) She had #2 take these pictures of her with her cool new instrument. (I hope The Carlos survives our family of five curious kids. It--he?--almost didn't make it through today as one small pair of hands repeatedly grabbed it from another.)

Happy birthday sweetie!

Mexico Work Project: Saturday

2011-07-09T22:13:00.009-06:00

Seeing as how Kent is now in Mexico again with another work project, I should probably tell you how the last one ended so you know what a pleasant day he can look forward to this Saturday. (Yes I messed with the time stamp on this post. I'm actually typing this a month late; but I want it to flow on my blog better, which is why it's in July.)

Saturday is the same with every work project. We clean up the camp, pack the cars, and head over to the orphanage to donate our leftover food and to play and say goodbye. The kids sang to us, we sang to them, and I cried through most of it.

Some of the young girls watched me quizzically, wondering why I was crying. Kent of course asked me to explain myself, which I couldn't do without creating more tears, which he found amusing. The tears were two-fold. Throughout the week, I was amazed by how happy and loving and service-oriented these children were. All of them came from bad situations, most from sexual or physical abuse. But none of them ever came across as victims to me. It was as if because they all come from similar backgrounds and find themselves together, they can move on and be helpful, happy people. Beyond that, I was struck with great gratitude for the full-time caregivers at the orphanages. At Buena Vida, Gabriel and Meche are a young couple with their own baby. Yet just a few months ago, they committed to essentially be foster parents for an ever-growing number of children. Their orphanage relies solely on donations, the majority of which come through A Child's Hope Foundation. They scrimp and plan, and even though they don't always know when or where the food and clothing and supplies will come from, they move ahead in this great work. The orphanage started with eleven children a couple years ago, and they now have 32 kids. I am amazed at the faith and love and patience of these good people who work to improve their situation so they can house and protect more children. Again, I was overcome with gratitude for good people like them. So my tears we happy ones. It was good to work closely for a week with good people: volunteers, children, and caregivers alike.

After saying goodbye, we drove a few minutes to La Fonda for breakfast. La Fonda is an oceanside restaurant that has been around for decades. Sitting there eating banana pancakes while watching dolphins and surfers and chatting with new friends is a very peaceful way to enjoy--and say goodbye to--Mexico.

With full tummies, we all hug and then disperse to our separate vehicles and make a run for the border.

The average wait time to cross the border in Tijuana is two hours, which means a little extra time to shop. We always get some hot churros from the vendors weaving between cars, and Kent and I even hopped out of the van for 20 minutes to browse the shops on the side of the road. Eventually we made it to the border, flashed our passports, and cruised into the U.S., where the stark contrast between the two countries is at once obvious. It is amazing to me that this little line drawn across a street determines a great deal about how a person born on either side will live out his or her life:

In a matter of hours we were landing in Salt Lake and picking up our kids, grateful to be home and grateful for the enrichment we'd had all week.

No matter how hard I work during these projects, I always come away feeling uplifted and blessed by the service to me of those whom I went to serve.

That is part of the reason I am excited to be working officially with the foundation. Beginning at the end of July, I am taking Sarah's place as Administrative Assistant/Work Project Coordinator at the foundation. With all five of my kids starting school, I'll have a few hours each week that I can give to the foundation, and I hope to take on more responsibilities there as my children get older.

Click the link if you want to learn more about A Child's Hope Foundation.

Mexico Work Project: Friday

2011-07-08T05:30:00.000-06:00

Friday is always the last day a group has to finish up work at the orphanages. When we took our family in December one year, the kids stayed hard at work sanding 20 benches our group had built for a chapel.

The rest of the group came at crunch time to finish the staining.

This last trip, part of the group finished work on the roof...

...others built walls for the girls' bathroom...

...but I was excited to help three other gals with a landscaping project. All we had to do was prep a large planting bed for the two dozen plants that had arrived fresh from a garden center. I took my shovel to work some manure and compost into the soil...and broke about half an inch into the dirt. (Note: While soil is a lovely thing, dirt is a four-letter word.) The dirt had been so compacted by years of little feet running over the bed that we had to use pick axes to break it up before turning in the amendments. You can see our determination to conquer the land!

About three hours into my pick-axe workout, a group of the children saw our plight and pitched in. It turns out I can be even a little hardened against orphans. The single ladies all thought the kids and their efforts at breaking gorund were so cute. I, however, thought someone was going to lose an eye. So the mother in me sent them to the other end of the planter to shovel manure and stay out of our way. (I think the kids knew I was blowing them off a little.) But when the de-roofers finished and picked up shovels to help, the kids realized their work was useful, even if they didn't get to swing sharp, heavy objects with me.

We ran out of time to put the plants in, but we left a bed full of rich, soft soil for another group to do the easy work sometime.

We had to hurry and eat to pack in some carbs for another game of soccer. This time we would play the Buena Vida kids, who are younger than the first team we played, and Kent assured us that victory was imminent. I even volunteered to play fullback, and was happy to discover that I am more coordinated as an adult and got a few good blocks in. Thanks to my prowess, we gave up only four goals in 30 minutes to these younger, "less-experienced" kids...without a single score of our own. To end the embarrassment--and before they thought to ask for a soda pop prize--we distracted them with the option of going swimming before they could run up the score any more.

BUT, we came up with a devious plan. On the way back to camp to grab our swimsuits, someone suggested that Kent bring a high-school soccer team down for a work project sometime. I love it!

We met the Buena Vida kids at the town pool, which is supposed to be heated by natural hot springs. In fact, Kent had communicated with the pool owners before hand to ensure that we would have warm water. Well, actually he asked for "sopa de ninos", hoping we would be swimming in a giant hot tub. The owners, not wanting to lose 54 potential patrons, conveniently forgot to mention that a pump or something to the hot spring wasn't working, so the water was more the temperature of a refreshing mountain spring. Kent was miffed and said he would only pay for those who actually swam. He spent the rest of the outing reading in the van. But the children, who are oblivious to chilly water, jumped right in and the volunteers followed them. We had a fun time splashing and playing chicken and cooling (way) off.

To show their thanks, Buena Vida invited us all to dinner. They served a special treat, which the kids don't get very often: fish tacos!

Kent and I ate with a couple of the boys who are his favorites there. (Yes, we have favorites, just like most parents. I mean, we love all our kids, but we just click with some people better than others. Fellow parents, am I right? Don't deny it!)

Dinner turned into another evening of face painting, games, manicures, and hair styling. Yeah, kind of like a huge slumber party. We kept those kids up way past bedtime!

Eventually we had to say goodnight and wrap up the day with our fireside and a couple rounds of telephone charades.

The game in a nutshell: One player tries to get the next player to understand a series of selected clues (person, place, and thing) who then communicates those clues to the next player--all through charades and jibberish. When Kent was chosen by the group as one of the clues, I had the pleasure of acting him out. I'm pretty sure that imitating his dancing sold it. For Kent's turn, his impression of Justin Bieber had everyone laughing.

Playing and laughing with friends is a great way to wrap up a day of hard work.

Mexico Work Project: Thursday

2011-07-07T05:08:00.004-06:00

Thursday was an early day for most of the group. It was a chance to serve breakfast to the children in Tijuana before they headed off to school. These kids come from families who have built homes in the city's old dump, using materials that were discarded. Kent and I went on this outing together a few years ago, and it was the highlight of that trip for me. This time around, leaving at 4:30 a.m. sounded unappealing, so we and a couple others stayed at camp to fix a late breakfast for the rest of the group upon their return.

A little mission has built a kitchen and dining room along with a chapel to provide this daily meal for the children. Volunteers show up early to prep the food, serve it, and clean up afterward.

This time around, they also had a quick birthday celebration before school. Lauren is the one cutting the cake. She is a volunteer from California who fell in love with this work and has lived at Door of Faith for almost two years. She manages the visiting volunteer groups and is our go-to person when we're on site at the orphanage.

Following breakfast, volunteers usually have a bit of time to play with the kids and get in a quick tour of the neighborhood. Look at how the houses are built almost on top of each other.

Check out the power grid that residents have created.

Who said tobogganing wasn't a sport in Baja?

The two things I love about the people at the dump are their ingenuity (did you see those walls built from old tires?) and their self-respect. The children who came for breakfast were clean with neat clothes, many in school uniforms. The girls had their hair carefully styled. And they were all happy. When I was cleaning dishes, two little boys brought me flowers for my hair as a thank you gift. There is always a sense of gratitude from those good people, and never entitlement.

Because the majority of our group had waken early, we gave them the option of resting up for our big soccer game against another orphanage that afternoon. A few of us, though, went back to Buena Vida to work on building a bathroom for the girls' dorm. Our job was to make the floor. It was interesting to learn how to mix cement by hand...and it made me grateful for cement trucks. That heavy stuff is hard work!

Kent had prepped us mentally for that afternoon's activities. The group would all travel to Casa de Paz Orphanage in the valley above Ensenada, where we would deliver supplies, play with the kids, and most importantly DEFEAT THE ORPHANS AT SOCCER for the first time ever! Every trip, the volunteers play against these kids, and every trip we end up buying sodas for said kids because they ALWAYS win. But Kent assured us that was not going to happen this time!

The half hour drive is beautiful. The valley is covered with vineyards and olive groves. Kent kept our "team" pumped up--or at least entertained--with his music and dance moves in the van.

In no time at all, the game was on!

Admittedly, we had the advantage in numbers. I think it was six of them versus a dozen or so of us.

Within 10 minutes, we had four goals unanswered by them. They were probably making us feel good about ourselves, because at that point the tide turned.

After they ran the score up to ten goals against our original (and only) four, we called it quits.

You'll notice that I was only behind the camera. Soccer brings up bad childhood memories, so I was happy to watch from the side and jump rope with a few of the kids. By the time the game ended, I had learned a new jump rope song; but it was in Spanish, so I have no idea what we were singing!

We wrapped up our time at Casa de Pas by making crafts...

...and making good on our loser's treat.

While Kent was off buying soda, I fell in love with this little three year old. During the end of the soccer game, he stood next to me on the picnic bench, wrapped his little arm around my neck and pointed with his free hand to the players. When the field was empty, his caregiver blew bubbles, which he happily chased for half an hour. (He reminds me of #5.)

In the evening we headed to Ensenada for shopping and dinner. Sometimes we do our shopping in Rosarito. Either way, without fail someone always buys a sombrero and a serape.

Luchador masks are also popular, and on past trips my kids have always found the candy store.

I've learned to buy small, easily packed items, such as jewelry, which I selected while Kent enjoyed a seated massage out on the street.

Kent always takes the group to his favorite restaurant in Ensenada. He loves the birria there.

Birria is basically a bowl of meat in soupiness that you eat with corn tortillas. I'm not a big fan, but it is fun to enjoy Kent enjoying it. On his trip this past April, someone promised $1,000 to the foundation if Kent would eat the serrano chili from his plate. Kent's throat swelled and turned red and he desperately searched for something to take away the burn, but he earned that donation!

I'm including a picture from 2008 where I'm sitting with the Bratt Family. Perry is the president of A Child's Hope Foundation and has led most of the work project trips with Kent. He just happened to not be able to come this time around.

Adios for now!

Mexico Work Project: Wednesday

2011-07-06T21:34:00.013-06:00

Somehow I ended up on kitchen duty a few trips back, so Wednesday morning I get to wake up an hour before the group and make breakfast with whomever has volunteered to help me that day. (It's really not a big deal, since I wake up early on my own anyway. I just think it's funny that my role as cook is always assumed. I used to cook for 50-60 employees at Jacob Lake Inn each night, which turned out to be good preparation for this little work project role.)

After breakfast, the whole group headed to Door of Faith Orphanage (DOFO) for a tour of their facilities peppered with Q&A about their philosophy and how they manage the physical, spiritual, and emotional needs of 100+ kids. I won't go into that here, but it is amazing how smoothly they operate and care for their very large family. It comes from many years of trial and error and the wisdom and experience of their staff of 27 caregivers and long-term volunteers.

Kent usually wanders off to prep for the work we'll be doing, but I always love to tag along on the tour. Here are some photos of recently completed projects at DOFO.

The new dorm for elementary-aged boys. The wing on the left is a library, and the wing on the right is the barber shop. (Can you imagine keeping up with haircuts for over 100 children?!)

I love the bright colors of the buildings, inside and out. Fun tile murals are everywhere, too. Check out the tile in the new boys' dorm:

This year a landscaper came down with a volunteer group and turned a packed dirt bed into a lovely and productive vegetable garden. Some of the kids get to help maintain it, and the food goes straight to the kitchen and poorer families in the community.

Here are some interior shots of the baby dorm, which was built largely by ACHF over the course of several work projects. While the DOFO kids have their routines and jobs to stick to, this is the one building where volunteers are always welcome to come play with the babies.

After the tour, we have to pull the volunteers away from the children and get to work!

Kent divides the group into smaller teams to work on different projects at Door of Faith Orphanage and Buena Vida Orphanage. This trip our group was asked to gently demolish the old boys' dorm, starting with the roof. We were being careful to save materials, which DOFO had promised to neighbors in La Mision who needed to make repairs to their homes. I spent Tuesday pulling nails from plywood. A smaller group put in a track for a sliding gate at Buena Vida and painted some of their dorms. Other typical work projects include laying block walls, framing interior walls, applying stucco and paint for exteriors, landscaping, and pouring cement floors and paths. When we have families with us, the children are typically put to work painting or scraping mortar alongside the adults building walls.

I usually give Kent a hard time because he does very little "work" on these work project trips. I see him doing a lot of this:

Sure, I know someone has to coordinate the projects and drive people to work sites and fetch the tools and track down directions from the orphanage directors. It's just hard not to covet his cushy job while the rest of us are swinging hammers in the sun. (I'll also admit that it doesn't get that hot; usually only up to 80 at the highest.) But still...

This trip, however, I witnessed a miraculous thing. Kent put on his work gloves...

...and picked up...

...a granola bar! (Bossing people around all morning works up a person's appetite!)

Oh yeah. Then he picked up a sledge hammer--so I really should cut him some slack.

Between 1:00 and 2:00 p.m., we put away the tools and took our lunch break...at the taco stand! Then we took a vote to see who wanted to go to the beach. The result was 20 to one in favor of the beach, with Kent being the only naysayer. When I realized a few years ago how much he doesn't like the beach, I had to consider that maybe some people just simply don't enjoy the peaceful sound of the tide and the soft sand between their toes. After our vote, I've concluded that the rest of us do like those things, and I married the only person alive who isn't enchanted by the beach. Oh well. Marriage is about sacrifice, so Kent came with us and didn't complain once...though he was really excited when I suggested we go warm up in the van and get the group headed back to camp. (The Pacific Ocean is COLD!)

(Did you notice in that last photo, where Kent gets to have chili-lime coconut, he is almost smiling while at the beach?)

After cleaning sand off our clothes, we went back to Buena Vida for dinner and we spent the evening doing what always becomes the group's favorite activity: playing with the orphans until bedtime.

This cutie is Mia. She is a tiny five-year-old who wouldn't speak but only made cute cat noises once her face was painted. She went from person to person encouraging us to pet her head. I wish I could bring her home--along with about four other kids!

What I always love about these kids is that our groups bring games and crafts for the orphans' enjoyment, and the kids always turn it around and make things for Americans.

After saying goodnight to the kids, we wrapped things up with a nice devotional and a hilarious round of phone charades, which I will tell you more about on Friday's post when we had a repeat performance.

Nighty night!

Mexico Work Project: Tuesday

2011-07-05T23:17:00.005-06:00

Two weeks ago Kent and I headed to Baja California, Mexico where he led a work project for A Child's Hope Foundation. Kent leads these trips about five times each year, and since people often ask what these projects are all about, I thought I'd outline each day for you all. This makes four times that I've gone with Kent; he has been about 20 times. This most recent trip was organized for single adults, but since families usually come, I'll include some pictures of past trips, too.

Monday is reserved as a driving day for families or others who want to carpool and want their own vehicles in Mexico. Kent normally flies to San Diego, as do a few other volunteers, on Tuesday and rents a van for anyone who needs that transportation. The group meets at a shopping center north of the border during the early afternoon of Tuesday. We hand out walkie talkies to all the drivers and caravan across the border.

Our friends and family often ask about how dangerous it is to cross into Tijuana. While there are plenty of media reports of drug lords targeting each other, tourists are safe. Over 100,000 Americans live in Baja California, and the Mexican military and police have been revamped in recent years to weed out corruption from within and protect their tourist industry.

I've never felt in danger while traveling in Baja, and the military checkpoints and police presence only increases my sense of security down there. When we cross into Mexico, we stay on a toll road along the coast, barely entering Tijuana, and head to the quiet little valley of La Mision.

Normally our group stays at the Door of Faith Orphanage, which has a "campground" for volunteers. DOFO was hosting two other groups this time, though, so we stayed at another campground within walking distance of Buena Vida Orphanage where ACHF is their exclusive source for volunteers.

This new campground was built earlier in the year, and has the same amenities as the Door of Faith campground except for one important difference: the pipes at the new campground are big enough to flush toilet paper!

The dorm rooms are grouped like an apartment building, with four shared bathrooms in the middle. Each room has several bunk beds with *new!* mattresses where we rolled out our sleeping bags. Facing the dorm building is an enclosed kitchen and pavilion for dining. Each campground also has a large fire pit where our group gathers each evening for a short devotional, planning time, and group games.

When everyone is settled in, we head to the orphange to meet the children.

When we approached the Buena Vida Orphanage, Kent told me to pull out my camera so I could take pictures of the children mobbing him. I thought he was kidding. (It's true. After 14 years of marriage, I still don't always know when he is being serious and when he is joking.) Anyway, when they saw him, the kids ran up to him in waves yelling, "Ken! Ken!" and wrapping their arms around him. It was very sweet. Then they started grilling him to see if he could remember their names. This is a little game they play each time he comes. By the end of the trip, he remembers all their names; but matching names to 32 children on the first day is nearly impossible, and the children find his incorrect guesses very entertaining. (At the end of this trip we got a group photo signed by all the children, so he can study up for his next visit in August.)

This is Sarah, who helps to run things at A Child's Hope. She is the one who organized this single adult trip. Anyone can put their own group of at least 15 people together, and Kent will take you down. Family reunions are especially fun. Or you can join any of the regularly scheduled holiday trips during the year.

After everyone gets two or three dozen hugs and some time to play with the children, Kent takes us to the second most important location in La Mision: the taco stand!

Yep, this is where the carne asada inspiration comes from. Next door is a little restaurant with more delicious food. This first night, many of the volunteers were blown away by the tastes at one establishment and tried to pack in a second meal at the other so they wouldn't miss out on anything. We just tell them to pace themselves. It's easy to put on a few pounds during a week in Mexico.

We close Tuesday on full stomachs with a short campfire devotional and plans for a busy workday to follow.

The Price is So Right

2011-06-14T10:07:00.006-06:00

As a kid, I watched "The Price is Right" most mornings of summer break. My kids are now hooked, and though I know, as a parent, that I should limit their waste of time in front on the TV, I'm okay letting them build their own fond childhood memories of summer mornings. In my youth I actually got quite good at picking prices and dreamed of someday making it on the show.

When I started shopping for myself in college, I made a little game out of predicting the total of my receipt at the grocery store, sales tax included. I didn't use a calculator or total things in my mind. But as I unloaded my cart, I could usually guess within a dollar or two how much I would fork over. Frequently, I can guess within twenty cents.

Well, my sister beat me to my longtime dream...sort of. My youngest sis and her boyfriend were in the audience for a taping of "The Price is Right" that aired today. So I sat with my kids this morning to watch as each contestant who had the most correct bid for initial prizes ran right past my sister. (She is in the second row behind the guy with the glasses and sitting by her cute boyfriend, who is wearing plaid.)

We had fun looking for her in the audience. (The clip is of me calling another sister to help her and her kids know where to find Jenny.)

I also had fun discovering that I'm still pretty good at the game. As I tracked prizes with today's show, I discovered that I would have won all but one prize.

My girls told me as we watched today, "Mom, we'll all take you there for your birthday when you're old, like 40, and we can come with you." Nice. First of all, that's five years away, WHICH IS NOT OLD! Secondly, they still won't be old enough to be in the audience with me. BUT, watch for me and my kids fulfilling our dreams on TV when they are grown...in 15 or 20 years!

Airing Our Dirty Laundry

2011-06-11T20:34:00.001-06:00

I don't know why I felt like blogging about this. I think it finally struck me that what passes for normal in our house is anything but in more civilized homes; and I do like being unique. Part of my desire to share this part of my life is also to create a record of my current life so I can read this in a decade and be grateful to be done with this part of raising my children.

My tale of sorting laundry begins with "The Dirt Pants".

Despite the well-meaning patches placed preventively inside the knees of these jeans, #5 had shredded through the extra layers in a manner of days. You see, we have an empty lot next to our house. That is, empty except for the piles of fill dirt and broken concrete and rocks. It truly is an adventurous and wonderful place for children to play and climb and forge trails through the head-high grass and just get dirty. Miraculously, #5--who turned five last month--recognized my displeasure when he ruined a series of outfits in a matter of days. So he began calling his hole-filled jeans his "dirt pants". He puts them on whenever he heads for the field, and he makes sure they are in the laundry every Thursday.

With the improved weather, the dirt pants have been put through a lot recently. I didn't even want them coming in and out of the house and transferring their sand and dried mud to my carpets. So I confiscated them a few days early, which left #5 to his other clothes. Here is a sampling of what I get to face on laundry day:

Yes, he was wearing his shoes with those socks. And yes, that is blood on the pants.

This sampling is pretty typical of several other outfits worn by the same boy.

And this is where my house probably differs from those of singles, newlyweds, and empty nesters.

I used to sort clothes by color, and sometimes fabric type. Now I have an added pile of clothes that are too disgusting to be washed with mine. I envision the dirt and blood and sweat and other residues* left by my children in their clothes, and just can't bear to think of my clothes sharing the same water.

*Short tangent: I won't name names or even name "residues", but let's just say that one of my children got to help prep the laundry yesterday. I secured disposable plastic gloves to her hands by snapping rubber bands on the wrists in an effort to prevent contamination. Then she worked at the sink to get two pieces of her particularly offensive clothing clean enough to be allowed into the extra dirty pile.

After pre-treating the clothes with stain remover and/or vinegar and/or alcohol, this impressively dirty pile soaks in the hot, soapy water in the washer for at least 30 minutes before I turn the cycle back on. Then the wash cycle always finishes with a double rinse.

I'm telling myself there must be others like me. Do you separate the especially disgusting clothes from those within normal dirt limits? Any hints on how you get it all clean? Despite my efforts, the clothes from this extra pile come out with dirt ground in and faint stains that mock me.

As I was digging out summer clothes for my kids this week, I found some very nice hand-me-downs that look new. And they come from a house with two boys! How is that possible?! (I was tempted to just hide the beautiful clothes in my room and prep them for sale on ebay so I could buy pre-stained clothes at DI with the money.) PLEASE! Don't hold out on your laundry secrets anymore! Is it possible to get clothes spotless? Or must I simply wait for the first Thursday following #5 getting his pink slip on life as he heads out the door for adulthood?

I really can wait that long. I just wonder if I should hold out hope in the meantime.

Recipe for a Summer Nap

2011-06-09T20:18:00.000-06:00

1 ridiculously early morning trip to the temple
--BTW, those of you who balked at 6:30 a.m. bike rides with me should be thankful I would let you sleep in that long. My temple buddy had me up at 4:40 a.m.!

1 freshly cleaned, portable hammock
--Place hammock in a shady spot near lovely irises and between the scents of the heady lavender bush and the pollinating pine trees.

2 pillows, borrowed from the sofa
1 blanket
--Use pillows and blanket to achieve maximum comfort and protect against the slightest cool breeze.

1 book club book
--It helps if the book is about a girl who sleeps for centuries. (Enchantment by Orson Scott Card.) Funny and clever, but still nap-time inspiring.

Mix the above ingredients and warm at a perfect 78 degrees for 90 minutes. Occasionally check for sounds of crying children. (Fortunately, mine are wise enough to recognize when I'm not monitoring the TV, and they take full advantage of that situation.)

After 90 minutes, open eyes to the fluffy clouds in the bluest sky witnessed in months, and doze for another 15 minutes.

This recipe serves up one refreshed mother who is ready again to listen to a stream of children's requests while simultaneously folding five loads of laundry and making dinner. Voila!

Piano Recital and Family Music Night

2011-06-08T16:24:00.008-06:00

Every year the amount of piano students I teach fluctuates. This year, I teach children from three other families, and one of those families is currently traveling out of the country. So with such a small group, I thought it would be fun to have a slightly more casual spring recital and turn the Monday evening into a family music night. I was happy that the other two families were on board with that.

Everyone came to our home, and I was happy that all six students chose to dress up for the occasion, even though that had been optional. Since we were in my home, I took the opportunity between pieces to show parents some of the things we work on at lessons, and to brag about each child's musical strengths.

Each year I play a piece after my students perform, and this time, to transition into the "open performances" by family members, my piece was a duet with Kent, who played the tuba. There aren't many classical pieces arranged for piano and tuba, but this Sonata by Vivaldi was fun.

Because all his sisters performed a recital piece, #5 also wanted in on the action. #4 has been teaching him semi-regular "lessons" with some input from #1. #1 helped him place his hands on the keyboard, and I was impressed that he actually played the little song he had chosen. (Not impressed to start him on lessons early, but it was still sweet.)

The girls each played an extra number, and #1 accompanied them all singing "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. Another of my students played a violin solo, and my friend, Mindy, played a Primary song on the ukulele, which doubled well as our closing song. I had to laugh that as soon as we closed with prayer, all the kids made a beeline for the dining room where I had set out the makings for brownie sundaes.

While everyone visited, I noticed #5 sneaking a try at the tuba in the hallway. Check out those cheeks! He's a natural.

It was an enjoyable evening, and I'll probably repeat this type of recital in the future. Each student performed well and I think my own kids have a renewed interest in learning to play the piano. Hmm...maybe I'll add a Christmas recital to the end of the year.

Kent's Carne Asada Extravaganza: I & II

2011-06-07T17:02:00.019-06:00

On a whim inspired by his recent success at perfecting an authentic carne asada burrito, Kent decided to share his success with pretty much everyone he knows. A few days after returning from a weekend training with some of the Young Men in our ward--they have been the tasters for his repeated attempts at making carne asada that tastes like the burritos at his favorite taco stand in Baja California--Kent and I sat down to estimate the cost of throwing a barbecue. It worked out to about $5 per person, which sounded like a reasonable amount per person for dinner...if they paid their own way. Kent wrote up an email and sent it to family and friends from all parts of his life, including the entire neighborhood! 109 people replied that they would come, and I think a few more besides that showed up too.

After a week of planning, collecting money, borrowing extra grills, shopping nine grocery stores for the best prices on various items, and barely claiming a pavilion on Saturday morning before they were all taken...the anticipation paid off and the party was on!

We spent a good chunk of time on Saturday at our friends' home, the Gonzalezes, chopping, blending, dicing, stuffing, and otherwise prepping the food. David put a ton of time and effort into fulfilling this dream for Kent, and I appreciate that his help saved me from doing it all!

#1 offered to help as a (successful) attempt to be included in the high-school-and-older party.

I promise, Kent washed his hands before serving the food...

...in fact, we wore gloves.

The menu included lime-soaked cucumbers, seared radishes, chips for the guests' favorite salsas, Mexican Coca-Cola, limeade, and lots of grilled goodness: green onions, jalapeño poppers, pineapple...mmm!

But what everyone really came for was the smoked meat.

They lined up...

...and at Kent's encouragement/insistence, they continued to line up all night.

We had one little glitch when we ran out of cilantro, but other than that, the night was a success and we think everyone left full and happy to have visited and enjoy the gorgeous weather.

Everyone better have left with full stomachs, because we ended up with 100 tortillas and about 60 lbs. of meat left over, not to mention a fridge full of everything else--except Coke; #1 finished the last one during clean up. So what do you do with enough extra food for another get-together? You have another get-together!

At Church, Kent invited families who had expressed their deep regret to him at missing Saturday's party to come for the "after party", which reminded me of a college "break the fast" event.

Friends showed up with side dishes,

and helped out in the kitchen.

Kent stoked the grill...

...and we enjoyed another lovely summer evening with 51 more of our favorite people.

Thanks everyone who could come! I love that we had friends of all ages and connections at our dinners. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves, and if you missed it, post a comment and we'll be sure to invite you next time. Now that we know the quantities and pricing, we will likely make this an annual tradition. (Thanks also to Angela for buying the meat that was still left over after Extravaganza #2. The irony that we, the people who are supposedly mostly vegetarian, hosted a steak fest was not lost on me. But I surely would have been lost figuring out what to do with another 20 lbs. of steak!)

At the Races

2011-06-02T22:50:00.024-06:00

Sports were not my thing as a child/teenager/young adult/person. It may have something to do with the time I was playing goalie for my fifth-grade soccer team and my jersey got caught on the goal post, so I watched helplessly as our opponents trotted the ball down to score. Or maybe it was when I bit my tongue about halfway through the mile run during field day as a seventh grader and I ended up swallowing my own blood for two more laps around the track. I did like my middle school P.E. teacher, though, who recognized my natural inabilities and offered to give me an A in the volleyball unit if I could just bump the ball to myself 20 times in a row. I barely passed that test after several attempts, and she just pretended like I could spike, serve, etc. like everyone else who passed. Sports were just not my thing. (Though I did like badminton.)

So I was surprised when three of my children wanted to be on running teams this year. #1 joined the cross-country team last fall and ran a 5K, beating more than half the adults in the same race. This spring, #s 2 and 4 asked to join the school's track team. I figured they'd have to learn about their genetic incapacities sooner or later, so why not let them get some exercise in the process? Last week were their track meets. Imagine my surprise to discover that we do have some athletes in the family!

#2 competed at the Hershey Track and Field Meet last Wednesday, which was open to youth from all over the county, mostly Provo. She was up against some tall 12-year-olds, and though they beat her at running, she placed 6th out of many more than that in the standing long jump.

I was most proud that she stepped up and ran the relay after getting pretty shaken by the 200-meter dash. Truly, she is more a long-distance runner than a sprinter. Up against her peers at school, she ended up with a handful of ribbons, including a first place in something.

#4 is the one who blew me away. At the school's track meet for the younger team members, I helped record measurements at the long jump, and so didn't get to see her compete in all her events. When ribbons were handed out, her name was called again and again. Looks like we have a good little softball chucker/runner/jumper on our hands.

That's #4 at the head of the pack of dashing seven-year-olds.

So what does the rest of the family do at a long track meet? We all found ways to entertain ourselves.

#3 played with her food, which oddly resembled a favorite Provo landmark. (That's a carrot.)

#5 played on the playground...and made a playground out of the long-jump sand pit. (He was quite proud of his sand booster seat.)

#4 convinced Edwin to be her human monkey bars so she could practice flips.

#1 chatted it up with the boys...and then took them on to help them warm up for their events.

And I played with my camera, getting some good shots of my athletes and their coaches. Good job girls!

Since You Twisted My Arm...

2011-05-11T22:14:00.000-06:00

My sister requested some tulip pictures. Last fall I planted 2,560 spring bulbs in my front beds. I know that sounds like overkill, but I really did come up with a plan beforehand. And I wanted to excavate, which meant everything had to be planted all at once...and now I'm done (that is, until I figure out what summer and fall-blooming perennials to throw in there). I mapped out the colors I wanted in certain spots, and then bought a variety of bulbs to give me those colors from early spring through June. I bought everything at Colorblends.com, and highly recommend them for their selection, service, and prices. I've been taking photos every day or two since mid-March, and I'll make a slideshow of the flower progression when the bulbs are all done in early summer. But in the meantime, here is a little peek at what we've been enjoying in our front yard...

April 5--Crocuses. The dark pinks in the background are called tulip crocuses. They look like miniature tulips, and bloom early with the crocuses. Love their color!

April 13--These white flowers are a wild tulip called Turkestanica, a fabulous flower whether it's open to the sunshine or closed during cooler temperatures.

April 18--Hyacinths. The fragrance and color from these flowers is AMAZING! The whole front yard smelled of sweet perfume for three weeks.

April 18--I also cut some daffodils today. I planted 200 mixed daffodils that blooms throughout the spring...and I love the surprise of what type of daffodil shows up each week.

April 30--We had 4" of snow overnight, and I love how the pinks looked wearing their white blanket.

May 3--The wind blew these flowers together. It looks like the tulip is wearing a daffodil corsage.

May 3--I just love to come home to this! I asked Kent if the $700 I spent on the bulbs was worth it. He asked if they made me happy, which of course they do, so his answer was that it was worth it. I should add that many of the varieties I chose will reproduce underground and fill in these beds more in years to come, so this show will only get better!

These Kids Are Getting Expensive!

2011-05-08T22:00:00.004-06:00

I realized last week that we are entering the expensive phases of parenting.

Here's what the first part of that phase looks like:

When our dentist recommended recently that we get #1 to an orthodontist, I took a deep breath, prepared myself for the worst, and went shopping for a doctor. Because we have no dental/ortho insurance, I wanted to be sure we got good treatment for a fair price, knowing that the rest of our crooked-smile children would also go to the same doctor. I followed four recommendations from friends and family, and after two weeks of exams and consultations, we decided to go with Dr. Berg. Since I'm into plugging doctors lately, you can click here to see his website. I'm happy to recommend him to anyone else and tell you our comparison shopping story. The short of it is that I feel confident in the treatment he recommends, and his office is giving us a good deal on the price for #1 and siblings to follow.

It seems likely that #3 will follow soon, too. One of her front incisors came in too far forward, and Dr. Berg is concerned that it will break off if she falls off the monkey bars or gets hit in the face. (Did I mention she is in karate and wants to start tumbling next fall?) We'll take her back in July to see if the tooth has moved back on its own at all...so I've dangled a little "carrot" in front of her. If #3 will push against that tooth whenever she is just sitting around, and the tooth moves back, I will give her FIVE DOLLARS! I hope it works, because I dread the $6,000 if that tooth does break off.

Last week when the ad for Gerber's college saving plan came on TV, I told the kids in no uncertain terms that I am not saving for their college and I do not plan on paying for it in the future. They can either get scholarships or jobs if they want higher education.

Still, my first little brace face made me realize that these kids are only getting more pricey to maintain. #1 is only three years away from jacking up our car insurance premiums, and then a wedding or two could very well happen in the next decade. Yikes!

Just for kicks, let's take another look at the $4,000 wire in my kid's mouth:

That's a pretty funky zig-zag. In fact...if you turn your head sideways...it almost looks like a dollar sign! Oh, the mockery!

Return and Report

2011-04-27T21:42:00.008-06:00

WARNING: This is not an entertaining post. Feel free to skip it!

In case any of you are wondering how our Rallying Cry (refer to the Frantic Family posts last Fall) went over the winter, I'm happy to report we finished all our objectives by the final deadline. Some of those didn't happen until the very day we had set to be done, and I'm still not perfect with filing and managing mail, but we're done and the progress feels good.

I forgot to mention that we use our white board each Monday for a family council after home evening. (Usually it's just a discussion for me and Kent, but sometimes children are still hanging around, hoping that we won't notice they didn't stay it bed.) At this council, we have three dry erase markers: green, blue, and red. Next to each item, we color a dot. For example, if we both feel good about our individual and family discipleship, we draw a green dot. If we missed a date night but we spent time talking most evenings, the marriage relationship gets a blue dot. If our next objective towards completing the rallying cry is off track, that gets a red dot. Then we focus on those red dots, and maybe the blue dots, and come up with specific actions to address the shortfalls. The system keeps our councils to about five minutes, and it works well overall to keep us focused on those things that are most important for our family.

You may wondering--but probably not--what our new Rallying Cry is. (Drum roll...) Organize Our Living Space!

We added a new member to the household this month. Kent's former mission companion from Mexico, Edwin, is living with us for a few months while he gains fluency in English. (And yes, he is here legally with real documents and everything.) The only option for his bedroom was the playroom, so our rallying cry began with that. We then set a deadline for de-junking and organizing each of the seven rooms that have experienced some degree of neglect. Guess what? We're on schedule so far.

Those of you who ever saw our disastrous playroom will appreciate the transformation pictured below. (Sorry I didn't think to take a "before" picture.) The rest of you will just have to imagine the biggest mess of a room you've ever seen children make, because it looked like that with five years of dust and cobwebs on the walls.

Looks good huh? Here is a shot of the bed. It's practically brand new, but technically a hand-me-down from some African refugees. (Seriously, I love that the Africans are helping the Americans to help a Mexican. Let's all sing Kum-Ba-Yah.) My parents called on the Saturday that we were moving furniture--the deadline day, the day Kent and Edwin were traveling home--for the new room and asked if we could use a twin bed. Impeccable timing!

I was happy that our children got in on the Rallying Cry. They were excited to de-junk old toys and to then scrub walls and move furniture over spring break. We had a nice time working together. Now on to the next Defining Objective:

The master bedroom!

(Well where did you think all the stuff from the playroom ended up?)

P.S. Nate, feel free to use this last picture in another presentation for your office. I haven't had vanity over owning a clean house in at least six years.

Walk-a-thon

2011-04-18T11:29:00.007-06:00

It's that time of year again. The time when our school's PTO asks for money. I don't mind supporting the PTO because they do some great events and give good teacher support. What I've disliked in the past were the various fundraisers that involved selling overpriced cookie dough and gift wrap. I've always preferred to just give some cash instead of giving more cash than I normally would and ending up with products I don't really want.

Last year, the PTO got on the same page as me and held it's first walk-a-thon. It was such a success that they've discontinued all other fundraising efforts to focus on this one event. The kids get exercise and have to work for the funds a little, which I think is an important part of school fundraisers. With four children at the school, I thought this year I'd make their efforts a little easier and less in-your-face than knocking on doors and making neighbors feel like they need to sponsor all my kids.

If any of you would like to donate through one (or more) of my girls, you can post a comment saying so, or just email me (MarySWhite@gmail.com). I'll let the girls know and whichever of them is most motivated will contact you to talk about whether you want to sponsor for a set dollar amount, or an amount per mile they walk. (I've got some good little runners, so be careful on those per-mile donations! This photo is #1 after running a 5K last fall with the school's cross-country team.)

Thanks!

If you want to know more about the school you're helping out, click here for Freedom Academy's website. On the website, you might see news about a boutique the school is hosting this weekend. The boutique is raising funds toward hiring more teachers in the arts and languages, as well as supporting the individual artisans at the boutique. The walk-a-thon funds go toward the PTO, which gives its money to teacher support and family activities. If you want to donate directly to the school instead of the PTO, there is a link for online donations on the website.

A Source of Stress

2011-04-15T21:44:00.002-06:00

See that blemish? That painful pimple? The big red zit?!

That's a result of stress that built up from October through March. And it was worth it.

I decided a school named Freedom Academy would do well to add a little learning about the legal system that seeks to protect our American freedoms. So I started a competitive Mock Trial team for the 7th and 8th graders.

Not a lot of people have heard of mock trial. Basically, the students prepare to present a court case. We had a bailiff, witnesses and attorneys. They learn court procedures and the application of law in a courtroom setting. Then they compete against other teams from schools around the state who have prepared the opposing side of the same court case. Each team competes at least twice: once as prosecution and once as defense. While in the trial, the students don't get any help from their coaches. Though they've practiced their questions and answers, it always comes down to thinking on their feet, raising and answering objections, and interacting with the judges (who are real-life attorneys and judges).

When I took on this project, I figured I'd get a teacher and an attorney or two in place as coaches. Then all I'd have to do is decorate the team members' lockers and drive them to competitions. Not so! It turns out that attorneys are busy people and our teacher coach had other obligations during the first half of each after-school practice as well. So I helped the kids outline their side of the case, edited the attorneys' questions, coached the witnesses in acting, and drilled the opening and closing statements. It was a lot of fun, a lot of time, and a lot of stress.

But like I said, it was worth it! I spent most of those hours with my own #1 (On the far right in the picture above.) In the end, our students won both their first two competitions and went on to narrowly lose at the state quarter-final round. They did great for their first year. And #1 was named the best attorney on our team at each competition, which was no surprise to me considering her proclivity for arguing!

This was the first time I've ever coached any competitive group. Last week when I was returning books at the library, one of the team members saw me and hurried over to say hi. We talked about her plans for spring break, and then she left with her family. It was weird and fun to feel her gratitude and camaraderie disguised in her thinly veiled excitement at seeing me outside the school setting. Next year will be good.

Attending to My Spine

2011-04-13T22:13:00.002-06:00

Chiropractors have always been a somewhat uninteresting puzzle to me. Are they really doctors? I've never been injured and so never needed to see one, but friends and acquaintances swear by their back adjustments. But I also always had a nagging at the back of my mind about why chiropractic patients seemed to never be weaned away from their chiropractor.

Having never needed a chiropractor, I gave little heed to their advertisements...or to the growing pain in my lower lumbar.

I know, back (ha ha) around Christmastime when I couldn't lie flat or stand up straight in the morning, I maybe should have given it a little thought. I picked up yoga, which helped the pain dissipate, and figured if I didn't complain about it, the pain wouldn't be so noticeable. And it did subside with time...as long as I didn't lie flat on my back...or skip and jump...or make any sudden movement of any sort.

Then a few weeks ago, a representative from Alpine Spinal Rehab in Provo gave lunch and a short presentation at Kent's work. He told of a chiropractor who believed in healing spines rather than adjusting them chronically. My curiosity was hooked.

At my first visit, following a good (and price friendly) massage, a tech took x-rays and the doctor used some sort of sonar device to detect misaligned vertebrae and then adjust them. He showed me some exercises to do at home to stretch and work the imbalanced muscles around my spine. I was happy that he recommended two of my favorite yoga poses: the cat and the camel.

At the next visit, we looked at the x-rays of my spine. It's more of a mess than I ever would have guessed! Straight where it should be curved and curved in the wrong directions. (Kent also got x-rays, and his spine is a mess in completely different ways than mine.) He invited me and the other new and prospective patients to a dinner at Sizzler where he taught about the make up of the spine, it's curves, and how not to mess it up. He explained that all sorts of physiological problems can be caused by the spine pinching any of the multiple nerves that branch from it: headaches, tingling limbs, over-active bladder, etc. His approach to healing the spine is to identify the problem areas, adjust the bones back into place a little at a time, and then build balanced muscles on either side of the spine to keep everything in place. Basically, I get to have a focused workout on different sets of back and neck muscles using some fancy weight-lifting machines. Theoretically, I should be done in ten weeks with a healed spine to last the rest of my life as long as I continue the at-home exercises.

After the first two or three visits, my lower back pain was--and is--gone. Now my back muscles are sore from the workouts, but I'm optimistic that I'll gain good posture and lose my occasional numb fingers and toes. That is, lose the tingling, not the digits.

I consider myself an experiment for the rest of you. If this experience goes well, I will recommend Dr. Clark myself. If it doesn't, I'll tell you that, too. He says he has my back. We'll see!

Winter Olympics!

2011-03-19T12:06:00.000-06:00

Due to each of my four siblings losing their minds and deciding to move into new homes last summer, the GFOOC (Glauser Family Olympic Organizing Committee) agreed to hold a Winter Olympics in lieu of our Summer Olympics. We gathered a month ago at East Canyon (in the hills behind and between Salt Lake City and Ogden) to measure our athletic abilities in a variety of indoor and outdoor events.

After team photos in our uniforms, we headed outside where it had begun to snow again. Among the events I didn't take pictures of were a sled race (parents had to pull their kids, but when my parents couldn't even get the sled moving with us on it, we let them just drag my sister) and an indoor sudoku event. My sister, Carolyn, had thought she was stacking the odds in her all-adults team favor with that one. What she didn't know is that Kent and I complete a sudoku puzzle at least two or three nights each week. So, without even meaning to, the Whites came home with the gold again this year. I think our strategy is simple irony. If you don't care about winning, you'll have so much fun that you will. (It's worked twice now!)

I'll end with a short video. We wrapped up the outdoor events with an obstacle course race. I had planned to arrive early and build hurdles out of snow, but since that didn't happen, it was very nice of East Canyon Resort to supply the obstacle course. If you're bored enough to actually spend one more minute of your time on this post, you'll at least maybe be amused by the squealing four-year-old who quickly and effectively demanded my attention at the end of the clip and made us both miss our team's run on the course. (I must say, though, boys are much easier to attend to in such situations than are girls.) Have a look if you like:

Just kidding. I'm not ending yet because I just remembered to journal the unexpected turn of events the following day. Our family stayed at the condo with my parents to enjoy a relaxing Sunday and late Church in Henefer. Well, the snow that started during the Olympics didn't quit all night, and we had at least another foot of snow when we woke up. About three minutes after I put cinnamon rolls in the oven and started sizzling sausage, the power to our condo went out. After we all sat around for over an hour eating PB on bread, my mom found a friend who was also at the resort and who still had power. We finished making breakfast at her building and then waited for electricity in our own, which never came back on. When the maintenance crew had finished digging the snow off one lane of the road, and the indoor temperature had noticeably dropped, we made our escape. I'm glad we didn't wait around to defend our gold against survival of the fittest!

Some Catching Up to Do

2011-03-13T16:45:00.004-06:00

If you have surmised from my recent lack of blogging that I have had a very busy past several weeks, then you are correct! It must be contagious, because most of the blogs I follow have also shown recent neglect. I hope that means we all are so busy enjoying real life that we don't have a spare minute to write about it. My plan is to catch up a bit with posts that I'll schedule to show up throughout this next week, but I'm dating them for when they actually happened.

I also wanted to share this photo of #5.

He got really excited about playing in the snow a couple weeks ago when we had our last big snowstorm. He suited up and headed down the street to his friend's house, where there is a big dirt pile right behind the property. I think the boys started by sledding down the snow-covered pile; but as the afternoon sun melted away the snow, they ended up sliding down a mud hill. His friend's mom was very considerate to call and let me know she was sending my son home covered in mud, so I was ready when he showed up. I carried him in the laundry room, stripped his clothes off him and right into the washing machine, and plunked him in the bathtub. He had a great time, and I didn't have to ruin it by complaining about mud tracks or soggy clothes strewn around the house.

Life with a boy child is fun. :)

...Outside the Box: And In It

2011-02-27T13:18:00.003-07:00

We recently bought a coffee table from some neighbors who moved away. The table doubles as a big box, where we've elected to store blankets. It's rustic style is good in our family room, though I do plan to do some repair and refinish work to it this summer. The kids have loved climbing on it and using it for a homework and coloring work surface...and a bed.

Our nighttime routine usually includes tucking the children in bed and then returning around nine o'clock to turn off their lights so they won't read into the wee hours. A few nights ago, I went down for the final good-night check and noticed #5 was not in his room. I figured he was cuddled in with #2, which is pretty common. But when I check the girls' room, not only was #5 not there, but #3 was also missing. One child in each bedroom was already asleep, so I quietly began calling for them. No response. I looked in closets. Then the front room, laundry room, and bathtub. Still no response. I checked upstairs in the playroom and glanced around my room. Now I was getting nervous and calling more loudly. No one in the garage, and the front door was still locked on the inside. Where could they be?! Then I had a thought: the BOX! I opened the lid and found both of them snuggled and snickering. They had heard me, but didn't want to answer me because they were afraid I'd send them back to their beds. Well, they looked comfy, and another thought came to my mind.

I remembered a night I spent sleeping on the bottom stairs to our basement when I was eight or nine. I wanted to exercise some independence, which escalated into refusing to go to bed. I proved my point by sleeping in a cramped position on a cold cement surface all night...and felt triumphant. So I left my rascals in the wooden box and turned out the lights, to their delight.

Too bad they hadn't considered my morning routine. When I came down at 6:30 a.m. and turned on the lights for my scripture study, they were not happy to be so rudely awakened. I'm glad they had some fun being sneaky. I'm glad I caught them. And I'm glad they won't repeat that little escapade again.

I'm also wondering why I provide beds for my children when they seem to prefer bean bags, ottomans, floors, and boxes?

Cozy Bliss

2011-02-24T22:13:00.003-07:00

Some days are just good. I snapped this picture to try to capture the warmth of a rare night with everyone home.

The children had played happily with Moon Sand all afternoon, were pleasant at dinner, and then sat down to quietly finish homework. You can see #5 warming up by the wood stove. Dad was helping #3 with the dishes. When the homework and chores were done, we all played a game of Pictionary, and even managed to get through it with no one crying. What really warmed my heart on top of all that is that the family room had stayed clean all day. It was a very sweet and cozy evening.

Disclaimer: That picture was not taken today.

Today was more hectic than usual with kids scattered at friends' homes, mock trial practice, a school play, and the district science fair. Kent ran home from work to a friend's home, back for dinner, over to the science fair awards presentation, and is currently across the street playing a basketball game at 10:20 p.m. I rushed home from an evening gardening class to drag sleeping children from the couch to their beds and to get one child started on her book report (at 10 p.m.). Whew!

I'm glad to have some proof that we did enjoy a peaceful evening here and there during my kids' childhood. As they get older, I expect we'll have more days like today and I would otherwise forget the nice, quiet ones.

Super Powers are Exhausting

2011-02-18T12:24:00.012-07:00

Kent reminded me that I haven't recorded #5's fascination with super powers.

About a year ago, when he was three, #5 was chatting with his dad and mentioned some super powers that he had recently acquired: flying and running super fast.

#5: "Dad, do you have any super powers?"

Kent: "Nope."

#5: "Well I do."

Kent: "Really? Where did you get your powers?"

#5 (matter-of-factly replied): "Jesus gave them to me."

Kent: "Jesus huh? How did that happen?"

#5: "I said, 'Jesus, may I please have some powers?' And He said, 'Yes.'"

!!!

We have giggled about that exchange many times, and #5 just smiles because he's so happy to have all these powers. In the past year, he has also gained the powers to jump really high and "be google strong" (#5 uses google for really really, or infinitely), as well as the power of "invisible eyes" (which I think means #5 can see invisible things and people, especially bad guys).

For my birthday, #5 shared two of his powers with me. He bestowed upon me the powers to run really fast and jump really high...but only for three days. And he made it clear that giving me those powers didn't deplete his own powers; he can share them so we can run and jump together. Later that evening, when #5 asked for a treat right before dinnertime and I wouldn't give it to him, an angry cloud distorted his face and he conveyed through clenched teeth that if I didn't give him his treat in five seconds, he would take away my powers! Five seconds later, I expressed my woe that I could feel the powers leaving, and he took pity on me and gave them back. He was so happy to restore my powers that he forgot about the treat and happily watched me make dinner. (Little does he realize how expertly I wield the power of distraction!)

Last week I snapped these photos of #5 flopped out in deep sleep on the couch in the afternoon. (My parents have a collection of my brother's weird sleeping poses from when he was a child. Now I'm gathering similar material of my kids.) This little boy burns energy all day. And really, it's tough work to repeatedly jump from six stairs up in an effort to hone one's flying skills. No wonder he's so tired! This second photo especially almost looks like he's flying in his sleep!

A couple days ago, a little piece of my heart broke as #5 grew up just a little bit. Out of the blue, he sprung this announcement on me:

#5: "Guess what? I don't really have powers. They are just imaginary."

Me: "Really? What makes you think that?"

#5: "I just think about them in my mind. They aren't real."

Me: "That's too bad. But [#5], I have seen you run really fast."

#5: "Yeah. Some of them are real. I can run really fast, but I can't fly."

I don't want to see my little guy's imagination be crowded out by reality too quickly! Fortunately, the next day he was running around in his sister's dance leotard with a big scarf tied for a cape around his neck, jumping off the couches.

Me: "[#5], I'm glad to see you're flying again."

#5: "Yeah. And I can still see with my invisible eyes."

Me: [Whew!]

You Know What They Say

2011-02-06T16:15:00.003-07:00

An ounce of prevention...

...is worth a pound of cure.

Tomorrow morning I'm taking four of my children to the dentist to have a total of 11 cavities filled. That will bring them to 14 fillings in the space of three weeks. Most of those are due to not flossing, but we could also be better about taking flouride in this household.

I remember having flouride rinses in second grade. Our class would file into the hallway, and we would each be given a small cup of liquid to swish around and then spit into the drinking fountain. My parents were pretty good about keeping us supplied with flouride tablets, too. (I remember that mostly because I remember learning, after occasionally sticking a few purple tablets up my nose, that it was easier to snort it up and then down my throat than to fish it out. Kids those days.) As a result, I never had a cavity until I was pregnant with my fourth baby. The dentist told me at that point that it was pretty unavoidable because repeated pregnancies weaken teeth. Luckily, I've kept the total to two or three. Cavities, not babies.

Last week, #1 was pretty happy with herself for having clean x-rays. (I think it's because we've already filled all her teeth, and the rest have fallen out.) I guess it's nice that I'm not spending an extra $50 per filling on her. Instead, the dentist told me it's time to get her to an orthodontist. Well, now I know what to do with our tax refund!

Birthday Girls

2011-01-30T23:03:00.001-07:00

I debated all last week on whether I should post about my own birthday. #4 celebrated hers today, so I might as well throw in what I loved about mine. I hope that's not too narcissistic.

First, you must understand that my approach to birthdays is very low key. I know some moms LOVE organizing themed birthday parties with deluxe cakes and clever games. I remember being a little excited about my kids' parties when the first two turned three, but the fun has since worn off for me. For my own birthday, all I really ask for is a date night to a sit-down restaurant with my Kent. I do recognize that birthdays are a big deal to children, and the bigness of that deal is perpetuated by moms who show up at school with treats and story time on their child's birthday, followed by said party thrown at a building full of bounce houses and ball pits. To meet my kids' happy childhood halfway, I've decided to throw a party with friends every three years until my kids are 12. After that, their friends can take over. That means four parties per child times by five children. 20 parties will be more than enough to do me in along with all the other demands of childrearing. For each non-friend-party year, we have a different tradition. The seventh birthday party is very very low key. My kid gets to pick what she/he wants for breakfast or dinner, a dessert of some sort is served, and the child goes to a week of Provo's summer day camp in June or July.

With such low standards, my children have pretty low expectations of me for their own birthdays. If they want something grander, they take matters into their own hands. Last night #4 taped several sheets of printer paper together and colored a birthday banner for herself. Today she instructed her taller siblings as to what colored streamers went where and how they should be twisted and looped.

When her sisters offered to set the table for her so she could skip that chore on her birthday, she flatly refused. Instead, she directed them in setting her birthday dinner table exactly as she wanted, complete with the name tags she had made for everyone. I'm glad she knew what she wanted and was willing to make it happen without whining for me to do it for her. I laughed when I found this note taped to the front door this afternoon:

Her instructions include a description of a present that a friend gave her yesterday. It was wrapped in a gift bag that had a picture of Garfield on it. She re-wrapped the gift yesterday so she would have something to open today.

By dinner time, when no one had come with birthday wishes, she took down the note. Fortunately, she had earlier mentioned to me that she wondered what my friend Kelly would do for her this year. (#4 calls her "Kells"!) I had forgotten that Kelly had given her anything last year, but #4 hadn't, and she fully expected Kelly and/or her youngest daughter to show up in recognition of this special day. So I called my friend to let her know #4's desire, and she didn't disappoint. They showed up with a little gift around the same time that Kent's parents and brothers came. We all had dessert and sang "Happy Birthday" and #4 was very satisfied with the day as a whole.

Last week for my birthday, I indulged my kids by getting back in bed so they could serve me breakfast. They also made me a banner, and #5 gave me some of his magical powers. I am now able to run super fast and jump really high. (He almost took those powers away when I wouldn't give him candy for a Sunday snack, but he showed some mercy and let me keep my new powers in return for a banana.)

My low expectations for birthdays made me a little uncomfortable to receive my friends' attentions, though. However, after one friend and her girls gave me handmade cards, another gave me a hug and directions to take a nap, another (who is a self-proclaimed non-cook) invited us over for homemade crepes, another mailed me a card, another left a bundle of recipes and chocolate at my door, and the Relief Society presidency brought a birthday lunch to our meeting...I came to realize that birthdays are the day we can openly express our love and admiration for our friends. In other words, I want my friends to feel loved by me on their birthdays, which helps me accept their thoughtful gifts on my day. I also appreciated the phone calls and emails from family members.

My favorite gift, however, was serendipitous. The music coordinator in our LDS ward asked me a few days in advance to play a piano piece in Sacrament Meeting. I've had a piece prepared for eight years and I've always wanted the chance to share it with my ward family. I was so glad I could play it for them on my very birthday. It's an arrangement of "I Believe in Christ", which isn't my favorite hymn, but this particular arrangement expresses the joy and conviction of my testimony that I can't communicate in words. I had prayed all week to not be undone by nerves because I wanted the beauty of the song to come across flawlessly. My prayer was answered in an unexpected way. I got through the first page with no problems, but then as the emotion of the piece swelled, my arms and then hands began shaking. I think it was due to a combination of excitement and nervousness. Either way, I barely controlled my hands and all I could play were the top and bottom notes of each three- and four-note chord. Those who had never heard the piece before got to hear the simple beauty of it, though they unknowingly missed the richness of the full chords. But the flawed performance served to keep me humble while still portraying the message of testimony in the music. I was glad for it to come across that way because I wanted the piece to be enjoyed without me being full of myself. It all made for a good day and I felt loved by my family, friends, and Heavenly Father.

Going Gaga for Yoga

2011-01-29T21:55:00.004-07:00

(Has Lady Gaga ruined the use of that term for anyone else? Well, I'm using it regardless!)

Yesterday I clued into a great secret that I thought some of you might want to know about. It's a mind and body workout called yoga.

Apparently, it's been around for a few thousand years, but you know me: I'm always a little slow to adopt the trends. (Today I completed my fourth and fifth texts ever on the hand-me-down cell phone I started using last year. I even figured out how to use punctuation!)

My friend, Mindy, loaned me a yoga video, and since I slept through my early morning workout on Friday, I decided that #5 and I would give it a try. I loved how the more intense poses kind of sneaked up on me and I found myself glistening (the ladies' term for perspiring) and my muscles feeling a little shaky without feeling like it was strenuous. I had thought I had good flexibility, but now I see I have a long way to go. Twice I had to rest in embryo pose, but I focused constantly on my oujaii breathing and never felt out of breath. Then suddenly an hour had passed and I was laying on the floor just feeling open and relaxed. The sunlight streaming through the window added to the peaceful energy I felt. I loved it! I felt like I was walking on air for the next two hours, and each breath continued to bring me energy during that time. I've learned to meditate in the past year, and I think that helped me enjoy this yoga exercise because I could quiet my mind while I went through the movements. At least, that worked most of the time.

Admittedly, the little four-year-old mimicking the dog pose right underneath my dog pose did get a little distracting. About 20 minutes into the routine, he started his "break dancing" around the floor. He did keep mostly quiet, though, and I was only vaguely aware that he would leave and come back and busy himself with other things. For the last few minutes of the video, he sat quietly and just watched me and the TV. When I turned off the set and asked if he liked yoga, he replied, "No, it's dumb. But I have my own list of exercises now." He trotted away and returned with this paper:

Clearly he prefers my regular weight-lifting workout. He's drawn exercising with a barbell, dumbbells, running, and jumping. (Though I'm not sure if he's running with a dog or through a fire, I'm impressed that he knew what a hurdle is!) I guess he was mapping out his workout while I was doing mine. We put his pictorial list on the VCR so he can refer to it next time we work out together. Maybe if we're consistent, those stick figures will put on some muscle!

REALLY Outside the Box

2011-01-23T15:21:00.004-07:00

Kent found this article online today from a newspaper in Massachusetts:

Police: Abington man made bombs to clear snow

Now, I admire those who can think outside the box. In fact, my newest solution is keeping a toilet paper tube on my flat iron to hold it closed. One of the irons doesn't heat anymore, so by keeping it closed while it's turned on, the working iron heats them both.

But I don't think explosives will ever be part of my outside-the-box thinking.

Still, it would be nice to avoid this surprise chore some mornings.

Even though it makes for a good workout, let's hope we're past these kind of storms this season.

I Doubt This is From Jeff Foxworthy...

2011-01-19T18:18:00.000-07:00

...but I could still relate to most of these. Besides, I think it's healthy to be able to laugh at our quirks.

Forwarded from my kids' email:

FORGET REDNECKS; THIS IS WHAT JEFF FOXWORTHY HAD TO SAY ABOUT UTAHNS!

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you live in Utah.

If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you live in Utah

If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed the wrong number, you live in Utah.

If 'vacation' means going anywhere south of Salt Lake City for the weekend, you live in Utah.

If you measure distance in hours, you live in Utah.

If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you live in Utah.

If you have switched from 'heat' to 'A/C' and back again in the same day, you live in Utah.

If you install security lights on your house and garage but leave both unlocked, you live in Utah.

If you can drive 75 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you live in Utah.

If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you live in Utah.

If the speed limit on the highway is 75 mph -- you're going 80, and everyone is still passing you, you live in Utah.

If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow, you live in Utah.

If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, and road construction, you live in Utah.

If you find 10 degrees 'a little chilly' you live in Utah.

If you actually understand these jokes and forward them to all your friends, you live in Utah.

While we're at it, we might as well stereotype our religious quirks.

You might be a Mormon...

If you believe Heck is the place for people who do not believe in gosh...

If you pray that your food might "nourish and strengthen your body" before eating doughnuts...

If at least one of your salad bowls is at a neighbor's house...

If you've ever written a "Dear-John" to more than two missionaries on the same day...

If you were frustrated when your son "only" got accepted to Harvard...

If you have one kid in diapers and one on a mission...

If you arrive to an activity a half hour late and are the first person there...

If you have more wheat stored in your basement than most third-world countries...

If you have to guess more than five times the name of the child you're disciplining.

Canning Chicken

2011-01-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

Recently I noticed chicken being sold in bulk at a great price. Now, we are mostly vegetarian, but I do like the occasional chicken sandwich or chicken tortilla soup. At about $16 for ten pounds of chicken breast, the price was so good that I couldn't pass it up.

We certainly didn't have room in our freezer to store the box of meat, so I decided to try pressure canning it. The process was so easy that I thought I'd share it here. I also found out that cold January days are the perfect time to undertake canning chicken. The meat was frozen when I bought it. To keep it frozen, I left it boxed on my porch for a day. Then I moved my box to the garage, where it took two days to thaw. By then I had some time for the canning.

Here are the supplies: chicken breasts, cans with lids and rings, and a pressure canner. I got my information from the USU Canning Guide, and I did find an extension office in another state that clarified that the meat must be thawed, not frozen, to begin.

Note about glass surface stoves. My sister had heard flat surface ranges will crack under a canner's weight. Here is a letter from a manufacturer addressing that issue. It looks like you can do it, but you have to be careful, and your canner has to have a flat bottom, which mine does.

I trimmed the minimal fat off each piece and cut them in half to fit in the jars a little better. I left about 1 1/2" of headspace. The canning guide says 1 1/4", but for my recipes, I don't need that much meat per can. I used pint jars; quarts are also fine, but again, we don't eat that much meat. Then I wiped the top of the jars with a damp paper towel, topped them with sterilized lids and rings, and loaded the pressure cooker.

I have a weighted gauge cooker, so the processing was 15 lbs. for 90 minutes. The canning guide says 75 minutes for pint jars, but I misread it and did the quart-jar time. An hour-and-a-half later, this is what I had:

They look like something that's been sitting in a high school biology lab for three decades. I suppose if canned chicken or tuna came in clear bottles, we would never buy it. However, I'm glad that the meat cooks in its own juices, which means I now have broth to cook with as well.

The ten pounds of chicken breast made 12 jars. I haven't eaten any yet, but I've heard it shreds very easily. I like having chicken on hand for soups this winter, and I love that the weather was conducive to this project. (Just looking for that silver lining to those gray winter clouds.)

So I Married a Thermostat Nazi

2011-01-15T18:27:00.005-07:00

When I found myself huddled over the heat vent a few days ago--while wearing a sock hat and a thermal-lined hoodie over my sweatshirt over my t-shirt--I realized how ridiculous my situation is! Really, I look like I'm homeless IN MY OWN HOME! Still, I didn't dare raise the temperature on the thermostat.

(When the humor of the moment struck me, I asked #5 to capture it. He did a good job holding the camera steady.) I'm so looking forward to spring!

New Year's Resolution

2011-01-04T10:00:00.002-07:00

I almost never make these, but I was so happy to maintain a clean house for almost an entire week during part of the Christmas break that I now feel inspired!

I, M WHITE, RESOLVE TO NOT LET ANY ONE DIRTY DISH REMAIN ON MY KITCHEN COUNTER OR IN THE SINK FOR MORE THAN FIVE DAYS AT A TIME DURING THE YEAR OF 2011.

Hey, I'm being realistic.

It was a little scary last month to tackle the stack of dishes and recognize the remains of food on pots and pans that had cooked for events seven or eight days in the past. So five is a big leap for me! PLUS, the gift I gave Kent for Christmas was a promise to deep clean our master bathroom at least once during each calendar month this year. I wrapped that up in the form of yellow gloves. And let me tell you, I was sure glad to be wearing those when I conquered the bathroom last week! (It's bad when the pink shower tiles start turning orange.)

Homemade Gifts

2010-12-29T22:28:00.014-07:00

I had a difficult time coming up with gift ideas this year. A lot of relatives got gift certificates. But for some, I decided to go the homemade route, and I ended up having a lot of fun making these gifts. I wish I'd been inspired earlier so I could make more gifts like this for more of you. But since I didn't, if you like something you see, let me know and I'll make you something for your birthday.

For Kent's brother's family, I decided to dress up a plain glass vase. I like the shape of the vase, which is tall enough to hold some long-stemmed poppies or even branches. I wanted to add color that would make it interesting on its own and add some green to the foliage. I think the bottom half of flower arrangements are too often too boring. The decorations are vinyl that I cut on my Cricut and then reshaped a little by hand with scissors. I suppose this vase could work as an interesting fish bowl, too. Here are the before and afters.

My masterpiece was a tall table lamp I refurbished for my sister. I got the idea from a friend who covered her lamp shade in a cute fabric. I was very excited for you to see the "before" pictures because I found this lamp at DI. But some dead batteries in my camera zapped the files before I could upload them, and they are gone. You'll have to imagine the lamp stand in an outdated shiny bronze with a plain, beige shade. The greatest part was the dusty old Saltine cracker that had fallen into the "cage" part of the stand!

First, I dismantled the stand and spray painted all the pieces gray followed by a spray-on matte finish. I was surprised how easily the paint scratched, so the protective finish was a must. (Tip: the finish is much cheaper in a paint department than in a craft store.)

For the shade, I found some fabulous black fabric at Hobby Lobby, for which I used a coupon and got a great price! I bought 1 1/2 yards, which was way too much. Half a yard would have sufficed because the fabric is stretchy. With woven fabric, you would probably need a yard. I decided to only use ten inches of the black fabric so I would have enough left over to make an evening gown. (I'll post that creation when it comes to life.) To cover the rest of the shade, I selected a gray fabric that matched the stand. (42 cents at Wal-Mart for a ten-inch-wide strip. Woo hoo!)

I tried making a pattern on butcher paper to cut the long curved piece of gray fabric, but the pattern didn't fit. So instead, I drew a pencil line all the way around the lamp shade, five inches from the top rim. Then I ran a bead of hot glue (four-inch lengths at a time), glued down the middle edge of fabric and worked my way around. That method worked quite well, and all I had to do was trim the excess fabric below the glue line and one inch above the rim.

Then I ran glue inside the top rim and tacked down the top of the fabric.

At the seam, I folded the fabric over and held it down with double sided tape. (I didn't want a lumpy line of glue under the seam.)

As you can see, the seam didn't stretch quite right, but I was able to mostly hide that later.

Next I took my ten-inch wide strip of black stretchy fabric and tacked it with hot glue under the gray fabric and to the bottom edge of the shade. The stretch allowed me some wiggle room for imperfections. And the ruffles on the fabric camouflaged where I trimmed it, so I didn't need a neatly folded seam.

Lastly, I wrapped the shade with a silver embellishment that I found with the spools of ribbon at Hobby Lobby. It was dumb luck that I didn't pick something sheer, which would have looked really messy with hot glue. The silver ribbon's texture hid the glue lines and cut edges of fabric, and it was wide enough to cover the imperfect seam in the gray fabric.

I was so pleased with the finished product, and happily surprised at the shimmery effect of the light through the black fabric. My sister loved it! And I loved making it.

Redemption

2010-12-21T09:31:00.000-07:00

I'm pretending that I posted this a few days ago when I found symbolism in being buried in snow on the first official day of winter, which also means the longest night of the year. I wrote the following poem earlier this month, and the solstice snowstorm reminded me that this is a good time to share these thoughts. I snapped the pictures from my yard in the gray of the morning on December 21 while it was snowing.

Redemption

It comes quietly in the dark of night to blanket the world in clean peace. Underneath its gentle touch, the trees pull life into their centers, and they rest. They had labored since the time of the green bud producing shade and good fruit. Some had remained selfishly sterile. Still others worked to grow thorns, or immature fruit given to worms. The seasons passed for both the strong and the diseased. The long nights and cold of The Fall came. It stripped the life from their branches and eventually, they all gave in to its death.

Now the dead leaves of the Fall are covered and forgotten under its whiteness. The snow covers them all in its thick, graceful embrace. It gives them time. Time to heal. Time to collect life and strength within. It clothes them in white that trails to the tips of their branches, and all the trees are again beautiful. Under its influence, the dead limbs break away. Its water dissolves the abandoned leaves and returns them as nourishment for the roots. The trees will use their life of the past to be stronger in the coming spring. Already, beneath the covering of white, their core is resurrecting to new life, ready to burst with joyful fruit. They are redeemed, renewed. The warmth returns and the light of The Son reveals the transformation.

No Christmas Letter

2010-12-20T07:08:00.003-07:00

I have come to accept that I'm just not getting a Christmas letter (email) out. If you've been following my blog, you have a pretty good idea of what our family has been up to anyway.

To show a little Christmas cheer, I'm including this fun Christmas music video (about 3 1/2 minutes). I've always liked a cappella groups. Merry Christmas!

Secret Agent in Training

2010-12-06T20:55:00.004-07:00

I have to announce to the world the cool new thing I did recently. (You'll probably read this, roll your eyes, and then pity me for my pathetically un-cool life. But I'm a mom, so not only can I take it...I expect it.)

Last summer I organized my craft and art supplies in a locking cabinet. As a mom of five young children, there is really no point in organizing anything--especially art supplies--unless there is a way to prevent said children from un-organizing. I have been so happy to have a space that stays neat and clean. Somehow, my kids never found where I kept the key, so they're not as clever as I thought they were; but at least I had a reason to be grateful for their ignorance.

*Tangent* We have one of those bulk bags of chocolate chips from Costco. My children found its hiding place in the laundry room, and they've slowly pilfered a sizable amount of the chips. Yesterday I decided to do something about it. I moved the bag to an open shelf where it's quite easy to see the contents from several angles. I put the bag in the front of the other food, and turned it around so the back of the package is facing out. Tonight when I asked #2 why she left chocolate chips out of the FHE treat, all the kids replied that they couldn't find the chips. Poor dumb children. Lucky me. Okay, back to my story...

A few weeks ago I pulled out my supplies for an etching project. I locked the cabinet and put the key in my pocket, which was my mistake. I figured I didn't need to put it back in hiding until I had returned the supplies. Well, I remember playing with the key every time I put my hand in my pocket...until I fished around for it so I could put the supplies away. I've searched everywhere! I grilled my kids to see if someone somehow stole it. I even cleaned my room!!! It was all to no avail.

Last week I started panicking. (Well, as much as one can panic over art supplies.) For Christmas I had to ship scrapbook pages to my niece in England, and the page protectors were in the cabinet. Sure, I could have just bought more page protectors, but eventually the cabinet would need to be opened for something else anyway. My choices were down to ripping the doors off the cabinet, which would really not be too difficult, or hiring a locksmith. And then I thought, "Why should I pay someone to pick this simple lock? I bet I could do it!"

You can find all sorts of helpful information on the internet! My first Google hit gave me what I wanted to know, and I checked it against the second hit to get a little more confidence. After about ten minutes with a paper clip and push pin, I turned the lock halfway. Then I subbed a tiny screwdriver for the push pin and turned it the rest of the way!

I was overly excited and went so far as to wake Kent from a nap and tell him my victory! He was groggily happy for me. Then I realized something interesting: I'm on my way to becoming a spy! First I started practicing with firearms. Now I'm picking locks. I've even been working on hand-to-hand combat: last week I bested Kent at arm wrestling. (I think he threw the match, but he swears that I tweaked his tricep and won for real.) And I can keep secrets so well that I keep them from myself! I mean, I didn't even know I was a secret agent in training until now that I'm at least halfway through the training. Except, I just announced it to the world, so maybe I need to work on the secret part. Or maybe I should just become a locksmith with a gun permit...minus the gun...but plus the bullets, which I should probably go lock up in my cabinet! See, now I've diverted you attention and pysched you out. (I am so sneaky.)

THIS is what I'm talking about!

2010-11-28T16:29:00.006-07:00

Oh yeah! (Scroll down to previous post for comparison.)

I love how quiet snow is. With the curtains pulled while we sleep we have no idea that the world is being blanketed in white. I love the surprise--mostly because I'm not usually the one who has to shovel it. :)

Emergency Drill?

2010-11-24T12:09:00.004-07:00

For the past few days, the weathermen in Utah have been warning us about the coming arctic blizzard which was predicted to arrive yesterday evening. We were told of 50 mph winds and temperatures in the single digits, as well as half a foot or more of snow. In response, I went into preparation mode yesterday. I bought new tires for the van to replace the bald ones. I did a quick run to the grocery store to stock up for the week. I brought firewood inside to keep it dry and ready. And the school canceled #3's after-school karate class to allow teachers and students to safely get home ahead of the storm which was coming between 3:00 and 4:00.

At 5:00 we were ready! The kids and I snuggled on the couches to watch the local news project how bad things were going to get. Even though our picture windows revealed only a gorgeous sunset closing the day on blue skies, I was excited about what was coming! By the time we turned off the news at 5:20, the storm was picking up north of us and was expected to take snow all the way south to St. George.

At 6:00 we could hear the wind whistling in the dark. I turned on the radio to hear a talk show host passing on the governor's advice to check on our elderly and single neighbors. I went so far as to pass that advice on through our neighborhood email.

At 7:00 I built a fire in the wood stove and we snuggled in again for a movie.

When I went to bed at 10:30, I heard an occasional wind gust and saw a dusting of snow. I anticipated waking to a quiet, white marshmallow world.

Here's the view from my back deck this morning:

My four-year-old is pretty disappointed that my promises of building a snowman are not happening today. I've checked the news, and all I can find are reports of slick roads and snow being dumped north of us. How many inches is that? Our street is dry, and even the dusting of snow we got last night has blown away. So we have a cold day with no fun white stuff to play in. Did any of you get "dumped" on?

I'm beginning to wonder if this was just a state-wide emergency drill, because not much panned out here. I really am grateful to not be shoveling today, and to have clear roads for Thanksgiving travelers...even if we missed out on an exciting storm.

...Outside the Box: Fear Factor

2010-11-17T22:51:00.004-07:00

First to appease my guilt...yes, this is a Halloween-themed blog post. I almost skipped it, but I had so much fun with this that I just couldn't let these photos sit unviewed. At least it's getting posted before Thanksgiving. That would have been the point of no return.

For their classroom Halloween party, my #2's fifth-grade classmates voted to have a Fear Factor theme. (If you're not familiar with the show, I can sum it up by saying that the contenders do a series of disgusting tasks to win cash.) The Room Mom (she definitely deserves capital letters in her title!) came up with a few games, but I got really enthused about grossing the kids out and she let me put the following activity together.

I told #2 for a week previous to the event that I was in charge of finding gross things for the kids to touch, and I had some pretty good ideas. After my grocery errands on that Wednesday, I told her that I'd gone to the butcher and couldn't wait for Friday! She asked me where the stuff was that I'd bought. I told her she would never find it beforehand. I didn't add that I hadn't made anything yet, so she just assumed I'd picked up some disgusting animal parts and hid them at someone else's house. My plan to let her imagination get the best of her was working! The next morning on our way to school, #1 asked what I'd gotten at the butcher's. I refused to answer her question directly, but told her I'd seen plenty of things to choose from: cow tongue, fish heads, pig feet, squid, eyeballs, etc. The Room Mom later reported to me that while at school on Thursday, she'd overheard #2 telling her friends about my visit to the butcher. My deceptive devices were perfect! Bwah ha ha!

Friday morning I put it all together.

I hot glued pieces of lawn bags to the black Nissin noodle meal boxes. (The lunches are pretty good, but digesting four of them in one week was a bit much. But what can I say? I'm just one of those moms who will do anything for her kid.) I left a hole at the top so the students could reach their arm down into the container without being able to see what they were touching.

Then I labeled the containers and added the contents: Pig Intestine, Lamb Eyes, Turkey Hearts, and Maggots.

I was not able to be at the school Friday afternoon to run the game with the class, so I recommended to the Room Mom that she tell the kids the point of the game was to figure out which items were real and which were fake. I assumed the kids would realize they were not all real, but wanted them to psyche themselves into thinking some of them were.

#2 was so worried by the reaction of those who touched the turkey hearts, that she wouldn't even give them a try. Even one of the fifth grade teachers exclaimed at how gross the hearts were, and when she took her hand out of the sack it had red fleshy stuff on it.

Here are the items right before I contained them. Can you guess what I used for each?

Here's a hint: everything is vegetarian and edible.

Here we go clockwise from the top:

The "maggots" were jasmine rice that I dried slightly in the toaster oven at 200 degrees until it wasn't sticky but still had some softness in the body. Then I coated them with non-stick spray to make them a bit slimy and added a bit of peat moss for good measure.

The "lamb eyes" were large, cold, peeled grapes. I really liked how the indentation where it connected to the stem felt a little like an eyeball lens. The peel also came off in strips that felt a little like veins.

The "turkey hearts" were Roma tomatoes that I blanched to remove the skins. These worked better than regular tomatoes because of their pear shape, and they are fleshier and less juicy than other tomatoes. (I had quite a few kids convinced with these.)

The "pig intestine"...this one was my masterpiece...any final guesses?...is pie dough! I rolled it into a rope, which was tricky because it didn't want to hold together; so I added water as I went, which improved the slimy feel. After I looped and coiled it, I was quite pleased with the weight and the way the dough had enough give to feel like guts when pressed. I outdid myself by painting light streaks of blue food coloring and coating it with Good Value brand butter-flavored non-stick spray, which has an awful smell similar to old vomit. I don't know if the kids appreciated my artistic details, but I sure did! #2 said that at the end of the game, the Room Mom opened the containers to reveal the true objects. The kids were still pretty grossed out by the "intestines", but one brave (?) boy took a bite out of them to prove they were edible. No one else could get past the look of the pie dough.

I hope I'll get to do this activity for a future fifth-grade class. The kids are the perfect age to buy into the grossness, and I had tons of fun putting it all together!

Our Harvest

2010-11-12T22:22:00.012-07:00

Please excuse my blogging absence. I've been busy with a lot of projects, including preserving the food we've grown. Our garden was not as productive as I'd hoped it would be, but I've learned a few things to improve output next year. Still, though, I am grateful for a little land where I can plant seeds that turn into food for my family.

Our tomato plants did well, and I canned homemade spaghetti sauce and stewed tomatoes for the first time. Considering how many tomatoes I picked, I was a little disappointed with the amount of sauce produced. Next year I'll put in several more plants.

I did save the juice from the tomatoes I processed and ended up with a full half gallon. That stuff burns going down, so I figure it must be good for us!

Besides the tomatoes, I've frozen beet greens, green beans, snap peas, squash, and edamames. I've bottled apple sauce, apple butter, and apple pie filling. We've eaten yams and potatoes and beets. I've dried fruit leather and apple slices. The lettuce, onions, carrots, and strawberries have agreed to be happy outside. I even picked 13 cantaloupes just a week ago, and they are slowly ripening in the garage.

Now my weeks of preserving are over. This year I have a better sense of the gratitude felt by the pilgrims who had stores of food to see them through the winter. Just as they were grateful for the generosity of the Native Americans, I am grateful for my in-laws and four neighbors who shared their surplus with us and helped me process some of it.

Even Kent got in on the canning action. When his brother brought over two jalapeño plants loaded with peppers, he got inspired! Our friends came over a couple Sundays ago and helped us pickle the jalapeños with carrots and onions. While the peppers were processing, we enjoyed a tray of homemade jalapeño poppers dipped in strawberry jam. So good!

Now that my food is harvested, I can get back to storing up family stories on the blog. Stay tuned!

Independent

2010-11-02T22:17:00.004-06:00

My little sticker proves that I voted today, and my ballot proved to me that my political views are changing. For as long as I can remember, I've skimmed over the qualifications of the Republicans and, being satisfied, I voted straight ticket.

I continue to listen to Glenn Beck, though maybe not as fanatically as a few years ago. (I'm balancing him out with NPR a few days a week.) Since the 2008 election, Beck has been asking his listeners to do their own homework and pull away from the parties in order to vote the candidate of choice. So I read the candidates' statements in the voter booklet and visited their websites to learn what they thought about various issues.

Today I found myself voting for two Democrats (and there would have been a third had I been in a different precinct). In Utah County, my votes for those Democrats didn't go far, but I am happy to find out that I am more discerning with my vote than in the past. I still consider myself generally Republican, but now a little more Independently minded.

Skipping School

2010-10-26T14:55:00.005-06:00

Call it sluffing or playing hooky--I actually don't know what the kids today call it--at our house, we call it boredom.

Yesterday #4 took her time getting ready for school. So much so that when I drove away in the van with her siblings, she was still lounging around in her underpants. (Kent was upstairs, in case you wondered where her supervision would come from.)

When I got back from dropping off her sisters, I promptly turned off the TV--which of course was turned on in my absence--and asked her to get dressed. She was happy to learn that she could wear whatever she wanted, i.e. no school uniform. I reminded her that meant that I wasn't going back to the school until the end of the day, and she didn't seem too bothered by an unexpected day off. Then I told her what I do all day at home: clean. I invited her to clean with me, but also gave her the option of sitting in her room. After all, since she wasn't sick, I was going to pretend she was at school and go about my day as usual, which includes not seeing or hearing from her until school is over. Not surprisingly, she chose to stay in her room.

About an hour later, I cracked her door open to find the scene above. I was pleasantly surprised that she had cleaned her own room, though I don't know why she wasn't reading one of the many books in her room. Oh well, I'm glad she didn't think to un-bore herself.

After taking the photo, I again offered the cleaning option, and she went for it. I got a clean dining room floor out of the deal. The consequence faltered a bit while she played with preschoolers during a presidency meeting, but I reinstated the boredom by taking her to two meetings at the school for the rest of the afternoon. She did her homework there, and then sat for over 30 min. watching her friends in the hallway while I met with more boring adults.

The icing on the cake came when her sisters all brought their report cards home and asked to go to Krispy Kreme. (They give up to six glazed doughnuts, one for each A on a student's report card.) That pitched her into a fit, and I just gave her a hug and expressed how sorry I was that she had missed getting her report card. We headed out for our FHE treat, and though we did buy her one doughnut, it really didn't make up for the boxes of doughnuts that her sisters brought home.

Guess who was the first one showered and dressed today? :)

Home-Grown Dinner

2010-10-13T19:24:00.001-06:00

One of the things I love about this time of year is harvesting the production of my garden. Sure we've picked a little here and there since spring, but the amount of food we've been able to harvest these past few weeks for our own food storage is encouraging. I'll plan next year's garden around those plants that take up a small amount of space in comparison with the amount of food they produce.

Here is a dinner we had recently. There is nothing like eating fresh and homemade food. (I don't know why my computer refuses to rotate this photo, but it's a round plate, so hopefully you aren't offended by the fork at the top. I promise, I ate with it at the side of the plate!)

I tried pole beans this year. They are stringless if picked on time. So tasty with a sprinkling of lemon pepper after steaming.

My kids love these sandwiches. We spread Kent's homemade oat bread with mayo, lay on some freshly picked basil and sliced home-grown tomatoes, sprinkle with cheese and broil in the oven until the cheese is slightly melted.

I was excited to come up with this other side dish. It's mashed crookneck squash and potatoes. I cut up the squash (any summer squash would be good) and boiled it until soft. Then I drained off most of the water and added about a half cup of potato pearls, which are dehydrated mashed potatoes that are already seasoned with butter and salt. Then I mashed. The potato pearls rehydrate in the squash's liquid, and the flavors are great together. This is my kids' new favorite way to eat squash.

So good! And so nice to have this meal from our own back yard and food storage.

Frantic Family: Part 4

2010-10-11T20:57:00.000-06:00

The last step we took in answering the Three Big Questions for a Frantic Family was to define our Rallying Cry.

The Rallying Cry is a family's current top priority. When a family gives a second of thought to this, it is pretty easy to know what one thing needs the most attention at the time. This Rallying Cry is something that will take between two and six months to tackle. In the book, one family identifies their top priority as getting the husband/father healthy. Another decides to get serious about a house remodel. For Kent and me, we knew ours is to put our finances in order.

Once the Rallying Cry is defined, a family decides what four or five things need to happen to accomplish that priority. We attached a timeline to ours because one step generally feeds into the next. However, if we had decided that our family needed more quality time together, we could make time for each other without deadlines. (Note: The Rallying Cry can focus on a Standard Objective, although it doesn't have to.)

To achieve our Rallying Cry of Putting Finances in Order, we defined the following points:
Update our Books by Oct. 15--this means categorizing all receipts in Quicken and balancing all account statements
Increase our Income by Nov. 1--this step stands on its own, but it was very helpful to have a deadline for it
Establish a Budget by Dec. 1
Create a System for Handling Bills and Mail by Dec. 31--so we don't get overwhelmed and lose track of our financial health again
Clean the Office by 2/28--this long-term deadline may sound silly to you, but the whole thing still sounds daunting to me because we have to Purge All Old Paperwork and Create a Working Filing System

(Another note: If you have a system for mail/bills or filing that works great, I would love your input.)

I have loved having a Rallying Cry. For years I've muddled through with a huge to-do list. The only items that ever get done are the ones with looming deadlines that stress me out. With no deadlines on family finances, home repairs, cleaning, etc., I get very little accomplished on any of those things and I felt guilty about my snail's-pace progress. The Rallying Cry has given me permission to neglect the rest of my deadline-less to-do list (I love hyphens!) and has focused me on the finances. When I have 20 minutes to kill, I don't wander around trying to sort mail and pick up the family room and load the dishwasher and water the roses. I know that time is now dedicated to entering receipts in Quicken. And we are making progress! The Oct. 15 deadline has me a little stressed this week, but I think it will propel me to get our books caught up and ready to serve our financial decisions again. Go finances! Yeah!!

Frantic Family: Part 3

2010-10-10T16:31:00.006-06:00

It's about time to finish this series of posts. I suppose my inability to find computer time for this demonstrates the franticicity of my life. (Yes, I know the word is supposed to be "franticness", but I like my coined word better. Even the sound of it is frantic!)

After we came up with our family's statement, we listed those things that must be underlying to all we do. In other words, the things that are are necessary for our family to be on the right course. When those things are neglected, we experience problems. These objectives are based on our values, and they tended to be the things that Kent and I both identified as necessary on an individual basis and overall for the family. The most important part of this step was agreeing on what these words mean. The vocabulary doesn't perfectly portray what we are getting at, but after discussing these objectives, Kent and I know what they mean and we can communicate their meaning to our children. The point is to have categories of family health that we can look at objectively on a weekly basis to determine if we are getting off track.

We call this list our "Standard Objectives". Here are ours.
Discipleship
Individual Well-Being (of every family member)
Maintaining our Household--we broke this category into Finances and physical Home Maintenance (cleaning, repairs, etc.)
Education--with subcategories for formal Schooling and other Individual Pursuits
Relationships with Others--we consider this on several levels: Date Nights (for spouses and parent/child), Family Time for all seven of us, and time with Extended Family and Friends

Your own list might include descriptions or not. Kent likes to think of these items as a dashboard. Just as the dashboard tells a driver if the oil is low or the engine needs to be checked or the radiator is not cooling--all things that could spell disaster for the whole automobile--our standard objectives give us critical points to look at that indicate how well our family is running according to what is most important overall.

Beehive Stories

2010-10-06T08:18:00.002-06:00

I've started watching a series of short documentaries called "Beehive Stories". Each 5-10 minute film in the series interviews someone from a county or national park in Utah to get a collective look at what it means to live in Utah. They are nice, feel-good stories and I like to see how my fellow Utahns view their hometowns, which vary greatly across the state.

I heard about this project while listening to a KBYU "Thinking Aloud" interview with BYU professor Brad Barber, who created the series with his film students. (I also recommend the "Thinking Aloud" program. The archived interviews are the perfect length to listen to during a workout.) The documentaries air occasionally on KBYU TV, but you can also stream them from here. Take a look. (My favorite so far is the Sanpete episode.)

Shooting Things

2010-10-02T22:01:00.016-06:00

One of the items on my list of things that give me energy is "shooting things". Here's where I confess that I've never shot anything with a real, bullet-loaded gun. Or rather, I hadn't. In my sheltered life, all I've handled are laser guns, BB guns (I got one shot as a demo for the boys when I took the Cub Scouts to Day Camp--and I knocked a bottle off a rock!), and Airsoft guns. Though I've wanted a taser for awhile, I've never wanted to handle real guns. Frankly, they kind of scared me. But since I recognized that I really love taking aim and hitting a target, I thought it was high time that I face my little fear and pull the trigger of a loaded gun.

So for our date night last night, we went to the gun range at the Orem Rec Center. Our friends, the Gonzalezes doubled with us, which helped to defray the cost of ammunition. That stuff is pricey! Kent picked up a box of bullets for a big ol' Magnum revolver that belongs to our friend's dad. That beast of a gun takes huge bullets that cost more than a dollar a piece! I thought going to the gun range, where you can rent a .22 caliber rifle for $2.50 an hour, would be a cheap date. Not so; we managed to spend $40 in ammunition for both guns. I guess if we go back a few times to use up the bullets, then the dates will each be cheaper on average.

Anywho, we had a fun time. While everyone else gave the revolver a try, I decided against dislocating my shoulders and just stayed content trying the rifle. Here's Kent taking aim with the revolver. (ha ha) He really did try it from 15-20 feet, and was not able to hit the target because of the kick from the gun, (although David hit it with both of his shots). I still love you Kent.

Here I am looking armed but not so dangerous with Mindy.

I was at first frustrated that all my shots were hitting above the target, or missing my paper all together. Kent kept telling me to line up the sights, but I just could not line the tip of my gun and still line up the target. Finally, Kent realized he had left out a minor detail: I needed to sight with my right eye, not my left. Then I got a lot better! I even got one shot at the bull's eye!

After about an hour, we made a quick trip to the hospital. Not typcially a great way to end a date at the gun range. Here's what happened...

...nothing notable.
(Did I scare you?) We went to visit Kent's dad who had heart surgery the day before. Unfortunately, we got there when his pain meds were wearing off and the crew of nurses needed to check on him. So we stood in the hall for ten minutes before deciding to come back later. (He was in much better spirits tonight when I took the kids, and he's recovering well.)

Frantic Family the Sequel: What I've Learned About Myself

2010-09-29T21:46:00.000-06:00

I'm not going to bother catching anyone up to speed on why this post is a sequel. You'll have to read Frantic Family: Part 2 for that.

Writing the list of things that give me energy got me thinking about myself. (This post might not be interesting to you, especially if you have never met me. But I hope it might motivate you to reflect on yourself as an individual, too.) It's been interesting to step back and analyze myself as a person in various roles and groups.

First, the process of listing those energy-giving parts of my life really awakened me to the fact that I'm an interesting person. Or at least I think so! (I'm not going to waste writing time trying to be humble, because I don't think I'm being prideful either.) It was nice to deeply feel passionate about a few of the items on the list; editing, for example. I really enjoy correcting grammar on a page and rearranging words and sentences to flow better. Meetings also give me energy, because they often bring out creative ideas, and I love forming plans of action and delegating. Kent pointed out that he doesn't know anyone else who likes meetings, which caused me to look at the whole list and admit that no one else I know would have that same list. I felt like I was remembering that there is a "me" underneath my roles of wife and mother and Latter-day Saint, etc. Those roles certainly force me to grow and be a better person, but there is still a me that is different than all the other wives and mothers (etc.) out there. Even though I posed the question last month about the real me, I hadn't given that subject more than a few days' thought; so it was interesting to find a big chunk of the answer in just making a simple list.

Second, I was recently with a group of friends and we were talking about a variety of topics, many of which came around to parenthood and birth stories. I started to realize that my experience of life is very different from my friends'. Ever since I was a young girl, I've assumed that most everyone thinks the way I do. (Here's where my pride becomes apparent.) I figured that if others saw the facts I saw, they would obviously come to the same conclusion as I. Over the years, I've learned that isn't necessarily true. Take political parties for example. I've come to understand how people can look at one issue and vehemently take opposing sides on that issue. I attributed most of that disparity to the different backgrounds and lifestyle choices of various parts of American culture. Still, I generally held that people raised similarly to the way I was raised, with similar schooling, who share the general principles of my faith probably agreed with me on most issues--and non-issues too. But as I sat and listened to my friends share stories from their lives sprinkled with, "...you know what I mean...", I found more often than not that I did not know what they meant. Not that I couldn't understand what they were explaining, but that I often did not experience things the way they did. Let me give an example.

Two of these ladies were sharing parts of their experiences giving birth.

Okay; detour. I have to comment here on this topic. I find it interesting how frequently women come back to birth stories in their conversations. I don't think it's a right-of-passage thing so much as it is a very defining and life-changing moment in a woman's life--the labor itself and the effect of a baby to change just about every aspect of the mother's daily life--and it's something many of us have been through and can therefore use to relate to each other. I usually enjoy the stories themselves, but sometimes I wish that we talked more about ideas. Maybe this is another way that I differ from many women.

Back to the birth stories example. One friend talked about staying focused on her husband for support during a scary decision she was faced with at the delivery of her son. My other friend shared how she absolutely could not have gotten through labor and delivey without her husband there, and the group in general expressed how difficult it must be for military wives to have a husband deployed when their child is born. They all agreed they could never do that. I suddenly realized that though I had been through basically the same event as these women in giving birth, I did not experience it at all like they did. I was certainly glad that Kent was there for each birth, but more because it was an exciting thing for him and because I needed someone to take pictures! That sounds weird to say, but it's true. I don't doubt that I could deliver those babies--both my natural and my anesthetized deliveries--if he had been gone for some reason. When I later talked to him about it, he readily agreed that I didn't need him there (and it didn't bother him that I thought that way about it).

So I've started paying more attention to interactions with my friends, and I've learned that I am in the minority in many respects as to my way of thinking and experiencing life when it comes to my general group of friends and associates. Is it because I am attracted to people that are different from me? I do have two friends that I can see eye-to-eye with on just about everything, and I appreciate that aspect of those friendships. So maybe it's because I really am just more unique that I've always supposed. I think I like that, because it makes other people all the more interesting to me. I want to understand their thought processes and how their experiences have shaped who they are.

That's one reason I enjoy blogging. I think people generally open more in their writing than in person. (At least that's my experience because although I'm never opposed to it, I rarely have a heart-to-heart with anyone besides my husband or God. I simply don't make enough time for developing those friendships. I would like to, though.) Those of us who blog generally wait until we have uninterrupted quiet and thoughtful time, which doesn't happen face to face when small children are running about or waiting for our attention. For that reason, I really want to develop the art of great conversation. I don't want to waste the few moments I have to really get to know the people around me by simply talking about how their day went, etc. I want to find out what has shaped the people around me who I care about and with whom I find camaraderie, and yet who are apparently so different than I am. I think there is great value in our differences, and I want to learn from them.

Any tips for developing a great conversation in five minutes or less? I often want to discuss art or cultures or articles I've read, yet I worry that my first sentence about a topic that no one else has researched would be a quick conversation killer. Maybe that's why I like book club so much: everyone comes prepared to discuss the same topic, yet we enjoy each other's view points as we open new angles and possibilities to each other. If only my busy mom schedule would allow me to join/start some other groups.

What do you think? Am I way off here? Do we all feel quite unique, or do you find that you easily relate to your friends and associates?

(P.S. Anyone who made it to the end of this long and meandering post should get a prize. Go ahead and give yourself a spoonful of ice cream. What flavor did you get?)

A Pair of Great Babysitters

2010-09-25T08:15:00.006-06:00

A couple weekends ago we hosted three of our friends' children overnight. Their three girls get along really well with my children and we love having them in our home. Still, I was hesitant to leave eight children alone while I attended a Church meeting that evening.

Think about it.

Eight children alone for three-and-a-half hours.

Eight children ages three through twelve.

Eight children who are used to roaming the neighborhood together.

Eight children who would have their "responsible babysitter" mode switched off because they were with friends, not on a job.

Sure, I would just be across the street, but that proximity wouldn't guarantee the lack of flooding! Or fire!! Or kidnapping!!!

So I brought in the reinforcements. A couple of sweet guys who work well together: Mike and his friend Ike.

Now, Ike is rather a "Wimpy Kid", but Mike brought along his neighbor, "The Spy Next Door", who happens to know kung fu. Their fee was great! Since I also had some cute Sugar Babies at my house, they were happy to come and agreed to babysit for only $4--for the whole evening!

They weren't the perfect babysitters. They did let the kids eat in the family room, which meant I ended up vacuuming popcorn kernels out of the couches. And when I got home, no one was in bed. Or even sleepy. In fact, the three-year-old was dancing around and giggling hysterically, almost as if she had been pumped full of candy all night.

But for $4, I really can't complain. Besides, these guys kept all eight children entertained AND sequestered to one room in my house for almost four hours, which meant that all the other rooms survived well.

I will admit that when I noticed a faint scent of smoke drifting into my area of the choir seats during the meeting, I hurried outside to see if my house was in flames. But it was just a neighbor's fireplace. Whew!

Frantic Family: Part 2

2010-09-24T04:59:00.014-06:00

When I started this series of posts, I didn't intend to drag it out over the course of a few weeks. I guess prioritizing the elements of our frantic life has pushed blogging down a few notches. It's good that life is a lot less frantic at five in the morning so I can send some thoughts out to the world. (That's an early morning yawn, not my operetta impression.)

After reading the book, Kent and I sat down for several conversations to dissect those things that make our family unique and to identify the values we hold. We used a couple of date nights to this purpose. One date was to Kent's office where we used the conference room's white board to draft some lists. Another night found us in the Cafe Rio--do I have your attention now, Christy?--parking lot where we hashed out value statements over take out. Talking and writing together was nice.

Kent added a first step to Patrick Lencioni's process. He (Kent) suggested that we could identify our family's unique qualities by looking at those things that give him and me energy. So we began some lists, which became fuel for thought and observance about me as a person. I'll include my other thoughts on that subject in a sequel post titled "What I Have Learned About Myself".

Kent had three lists for himself: "Who I Am" (finder of information, humorous, night person, etc.); "What Gives Me Energy" (reading, serving, work projects, etc.); and "What Sucks Away Energy" (half-hearted effort, lack of down time, etc.). In compiling my list of "What Gives Me Energy", I felt complete enough to not need the other two lists. Of the 26 items I listed, I was surprised how deeply important some of the items were to me, to the point that tears came to my eyes, for example, when I thought about how much I need date nights and girls' nights out of the house. Following are other items on my energy-giving list that initially surprised me by showing up there:

-Clean stand-up comedy
-Bike riding
-Personal devotional time
-Having meaningful discussions
-Editing the written word (mine or others')
-Attending meetings (except sales pitch meetings)
-Shooting things (I don't do this often, but I do like aiming a laser gun, arrow, or Airsoft rifle at a non-living target)
-Eating meals that I didn't have to prepare
-Pursuing passing interests (photography, inventions, and so forth)

I truly enjoyed putting this list together for its own merits as well as the aim to recognize traits and values that our family holds. I'll come back to that first thought in my sequel post.

Next, we put together a list that represents our family currently. We left aspirations out of the list and tried to get a snapshot of the family we really are with all the constraints we face. Here is a sampling:

-We aren't helicopter parents.
-We don't watch much TV.
-We all work in our garden.
-We like game nights and having friends over.
-We volunteer in the school, community, and Church.
-We read to our kids at night.
-Kent resents the pets.
-We have holiday traditions.
-We eat dinners together.
-Our kids take piano lessons.
-We are entrepreneurial.

Kent and I merged all the lists to identify those things that make our family unique. We considered involving the children in this process, but as we talked about our observations of the children's values, we recognized that our values represent pretty well what they would contribute. This is probably partly because they are young and have not developed their identities much, and partly because as their parents, we model our values and they incorporate them into their own lives. We came up with four stand-out values and three others that are important to us and put them all together in the following statement:

"In our family we each work to better the household, and we like to play together. Our home is open to friends and family, and we deeply value intimate relationships. We strive to be grateful and to serve others. We pursue our passions and interests. We take care of our minds, bodies, and spirits; we make time for self-renewal. We value humor, even when it gets us into trouble!"

In his book, The Three Big Questions for a Frantic Family, Lencioni encourages writing a statement so a family will have a basis for making decisions and so we won't try to be all things to all people. You can see more examples of family statements here.

To keep these values at the forefront, Kent and I hung a whiteboard in our kitchen so all family members will see it frequently. We wrote our statement at the top, and then moved on to the other two steps in the process...which I would really like to blog about now, but reality will probably postpone that by several days. We asked each of our children if they thought the statement applied to us well, and they nonchalantly agreed with a shrug, or a "Sure". (I'm glad we didn't waste their time or ours involving them in our processing conversations!)

Don't Let Her Sweet Smile Fool You

2010-09-17T05:48:00.004-06:00

Last year in school, #2 had a problem with a bully who used manipulation to try to be #2's friend. The bullying included hair pulling, kicking in the stomach, damaging #2's property, and calling her really awful names. Most of this came to a head toward the end of the year, so when I spoke with teachers about it, they said they had not noticed it but would watch for it...and then school got out. The bully made the mistake of continuing her abuse of #2 in emails, which I read. Over the course of the summer, Kent and I coached #2 on how to deal with friends who really aren't, and she decided to cut off contact with this friend. After screening this girl's phone calls for a month, I answered one day and told this girl I had read the emails she'd sent and didn't think #2 would ever call her back after the really mean things she had said. She stopped calling. When class assignments were announced, she called again and #2 decided to take the call. This girl apologized and #2 forgave her. At least thrice a week I ask #2 how things are going with this girl, and the answer usually is that she is much nicer. When she does slip up and say something not so nice, she now catches herself and apologizes immediately to the offended party (who often is some other kid besides mine). I'm happy that the bullying has stopped and that said bully seems to be changing her ways.

What I'm even happier about is the empowerment #2 has gained.

Every year since Kindergarten she has had some boy in deep crush over her, and it always makes her uncomfortable. When they were five, it was A. who would call her name and lift up his shirt when she looked his way. J. in first and second grades was really sweet. He would write her notes and give her a special Valentine present. (I was sad to hear that he left the school.) In third grade, S. showered her with presents and smiles. This year, her admirer is more bold. T. is new to the school. He started with smiles and quickly progressed to telling everyone he had a crush on her; then to calling out, "Hey Baby! How's it going?" in the halls; and a quick hug-type grab on her arms at lunch last week. When I picked up #1 from an after-school activity on Wednesday, she asked me if #2 had already told me that T. had kissed her that day. !!! (That means "What?!" and "No!") When we got home, I asked #2 about it and she said he hadn't kissed her but was telling everyone he had. She was not happy about it, and I could sense he was working up the nerve to plant one on her.

We had a talk about whether she had told him to stop, and though she thought she had repeatedly been firm with T. on that point, it obviously wasn't working. Kent and I talked about her predicament that night.

Thursday morning after our family devotional time, Kent asked #2 about T. and told her she should "kick him in the balls" if T. ever touched her at all. She had given him fair warning to lay off, and defending herself would give a clear message. #2 smiled uncertainly and said she could never do that. Kent reassured her that sometimes that's what it takes to get a message through to a boy. She just shook her head and left to get ready for school.

Kent explained to me that he didn't really think #2 would kick the boy, but he wanted her to know it's okay to be REALLY strong and clear in her communications.

Thursday afternoon she came home with a triumphant story.

After arriving at school, she walked up to T., who was with a group of his friends, and said, "My parents gave me permission to hurt you if you ever touch me or talk to me inappropriately again." ("You used the word 'inappropriately'?" I asked. "Yep.") T. left her alone for the whole day. When classmates asked if T. had really kissed her (Wednesday's rumor), another classmate would interrupt in the negative and brag about what #2 had said to T. that morning.

She was very proud of herself. I am proud of her too. She handled the situation in a clear manner with witnesses, without hurting anyone, and now has a reputation of taking care of herself. You go girl!

Little Miss Loophole

2010-09-10T05:37:00.004-06:00

#3, who I'm going to nickname Little Miss Loophole, is off to a good start with the new school year.

For starters, last night when I was attempting to put her to bed, she announced that she had a few questions about her math homework. So I agreed to quickly look at the four problems she had "questions" about. Not until the last one, #30, did I realize that the other three she needed help with were numbers 27, 28, and 29. She knew I wouldn't let her stay up to finish homework that she had procrastinated; but I would be more than happy to help with her "questions". She's a talented manipulator.

What really cracked me up was her answer to #30. The problem was stated thusly:
"How many different three-digit numbers can you write using the digits 0, 4, and 9? Each digit may be used only once, and the digit 0 may not be used in the hundreds place. Label your numbers as even or odd."

So what do you think was #3's answer? (I'm happy to say I mentally came up with the same answer while she was writing it.) Here's what she wrote:

"Four, even."

Do you know why she is right?

The question asked for an amount of three-digit numbers. Though it implied that she should write out those three-digit numbers, it technically didn't ask for that. And of course Little Miss Loophole is only going to give what it asked for. And since her answer, 4, is an even number, that is how she labeled it.

After writing her answer, she looked at me and said, "They're not asking the right question." We had a short discussion during which I made sure that she did know what they were looking for and what the three-digit numbers were. I also applauded her thinking and said that even if the answer book said she got it wrong, we both knew she had it right.

Many times I find myself frustrated by her thought processes because her brain is usually on a different wavelength than mine. Then there are times like these that I really enjoy the creative thinking she demonstrates. I need to be careful to not squelch that, but rather, to encourage it.

Update: On my last loopholes post, I wrote about her manipulation of the school's uniform policy. This year at back-to-school night, the PTO re-emphasized their policy (new as of #3's first-grade year) that only sweaters and jumpers may be layered, not shirts. She's still keeping everyone on their toes!

Frantic Family: Part 1

2010-09-09T11:19:00.013-06:00

Kent and I recently read "The Three Big Questions for a Frantic Family" by Patrick Lencioni. The author uses a fable to demonstrate how most Americans "wing it" with their family life. Literal tears welled up in my eyes as I empathized with the main character, a mother who was barely balancing all the demands of running her family: volunteering at school, chauffeuring children to extracurricular activities, keeping active in their faith and church, hosting get-togethers with friends, maintaining a semi-clean house, and on and on. I felt her stress because it described so much my own feeling of barely keeping up with life. Frantic is the perfect word for how I've felt for at least five years. The husband in the fable, who owns a consulting firm, mentions that if his clients ran their businesses the way he and she ran their family, those clients would quickly be out of business. The story develops from there and gives the protagonist and the reader some tools for bringing clarity and purpose to the running of any family.

(Side note about the book. Kent loved it. I could have done without the fable and skipped right to the summary at the end where the author leaves the story and gives real-life examples of families who have practiced the points of the book. Either way, it opened a conversation for Kent and me and as a result, I think we'll make some great progress as a family.)

I have a degree in business management, so the idea of running a family the way a manager would run a business makes a lot of sense to me. In fact, I'm surprised it didn't dawn on me earlier. For the past few years, I've embraced the idea that motherhood is my full-time job right now and I answer to my Father in Heaven as my "boss". I've taken parenting courses and tried various job charts, reward systems, etc. to run my household as a good "employee" would. However, this book helped me shift my paradigm slightly. I am not an employee. I am the co-owner, with Kent, of this business of running a family. Heavenly Father is a stock holder in our company (though the parallel falls apart a little there). Basically, He wants me and Kent to be successful in running our family because the "dividends" that come back to Him are our righteous children and those whose lives they will affect for good.

The book also gave me permission to not be a perfect parent and leader of this family. Part of the process outlined in the book is to set goals toward strengthening one familial weakness at a time. Throughout our marriage as I've looked at all the things that we could do better at (more time with our children, organized finances, a finished landscape, decluttered house, etc.), I never know where to start. I chip away at each problem area simultaneously, but never really conquer any of them. I now feel free to let some weak points wait while our family defines and tackles whatever one weakness is taking the biggest toll at the time. The strategy doesn't have to be perfect. We just need a strategy.

Stay tuned... I'll cover this topic more over several posts (with the label "Frantic Family") and let you know our experiences going through the process and fixing our first weakest point. Kent knew this book would be helpful, so he purchased an extra copy to loan out. Let me know if you'd like to be on the "waiting list". (It's already on loan to one family and another is in line. But the wait should be short because it's a very quick read.)

More of a Man

2010-09-06T05:37:00.006-06:00

I know this is a sexist stereotype, but what is it about guys and barbecuing?

We've never been much of an outdoor-cooking family. Sure, we occasionally roast something on a stick at our fire pit or cook up a stew in our Dutch oven, but our grill has been sitting under its cover on our deck for over a year now. (A neighbor was giving away her propane grill last summer. We snatched it up with her warning that a fuel line or something needs to be repaired.) We still haven't gotten around to buying a tank of fuel for the grill, and I'm pretty sure it must be housing a nice yellow jacket nest by now. Maybe I'll open it up in January and take a peek.

Regardless, I've always been a little jealous of those households who send the smell of burning briquette wafting through the neighborhood. I'm especially impressed by those who barbecue in winter months.

Let's go back a couple of years. Kent started cooking carne asada and chicken over mesquite charcoal for the young men in our church. He would always bring me some leftovers, and I started wishing he would cook for our family once in a while. But being 95% vegetarians puts a damper on that. So we've had little reason to barbecue...until now!

We borrowed our friends' large hibachi a few weeks--okay maybe a month--ago. They had our patio chairs, so it seemed like an even trade. We needed to finish off some Boca burgers leftover from a company picnic, and I couldn't bring myself to pan searing what might be our only burgers of the season. Well, we never returned that grill. So last week, being desperate to use up some of our zucchini, Kent started some briquettes. I sliced and took a tray of food out to him and the grill. He promptly returned to the kitchen to add some seasonings. Did you hear that?! I stared in disbelief and wondered what the grill had done to my husband. Not that he has never seasoned anything before--but almost. (He does make a good mashed potato. Period.) Before I knew it, the zucchini spears were brushed with olive oil and had a sprinkling of cinnamon and cumin. The peppers (the red ones have a little heat to them, and I wish I hadn't messed up labeling them at planting) were stuffed with cream cheese and strawberry jam stood by for dipping. He let the pineapple stand on its own: my was it good! And yes, you do see some Colossimo's sausages browning with everything else. We bought those during a moment of taste sampling weakness on a rare trip to Costco with a friend. Those sausages are so good that they turned us vegetarians carnivorous! (We bought the red wine flavor. Yummy!)

So now my man is a barbecuer. We might have to make this a weekly ritual. I loved sitting by while he proudly served me his masterpieces. With each delicious bite of hot food--that's right ladies, HOT, as in I got to eat before serving everyone else--my taste buds were satisfied and my resentment at being the sole cook of the household dissipated.

Sidenote: By the look of #5's face, I might have a second grill cook in another decade. That will be heaven!

Tragedies

2010-08-31T23:40:00.002-06:00

Tonight I watched a home in my neighborhood burn and was overcome with a sense of helplessness that brought tears to my eyes as I walked home. I arrived at the scene, which was marked by a huge, black smoke cloud, before the firefighters did. I heard explosions from the fully engulfed carport and watched beams collapse to the ground as dozens of neighbors and drivers stopped to witness the disaster. The gardener in me noticed the backyard trees in flames as the fire spread across the dry weeds on the property. It was a little surreal to see neighbors running to the scene while firefighters arrived and calmly walked about their business, which, incidentally, was to first put out the yard flames before the fire could spread to other homes.

The sense of tragedy for me was amplified by the fact that this home is only a few houses up the street from the home of the family in my ward who lost their wife and mother in a plane crash at Mt. Everest a week ago. Both incidents left me feeling deep sorrow for the families and completely at a loss for any help I could offer. My friend Mindy expressed my helplessness well when discussing our friend's passing: "How can my life be essentially unchanged when only a few yards away, their lives are forever altered?"

I do know the power of prayer and united faith. However, in the midst of witnessing tragedy, I don't know what I expect my prayers and faith to do. All I can think to ask of God is to comfort these families as they work through their losses, and to help me see any small need I can fill. I am reminded how blessed my own family is, and I don't want to take my blessings for granted. Life as any of us know it can all change in an instant.

Outdoor Concerts

2010-08-30T20:59:00.002-06:00

In the last two weeks, Kent and I attended two outdoor concerts. Two very contrasting concerts. I just wish the audience behavior contrasted as much as the music did.

We joined some friends at the Scera Shell in Orem for the Utah Symphony's outdoor concert. I haven't heard the symphony perform since 2008, and it was wonderful to hear their precision and clarity. Attending only middle school and other amateur performances had really "dumbed down" my ears.

Sadly, too many audience members were also dumbed down on concert etiquette. Several times a handful of people clapped in the middle of a piece, which I've come to expect at all concerts now. But seriously, how difficult is it to watch the conductor's baton come down before slapping one's hands together? What bothered me more was the couple behind us who couldn't stop talking. I think when a concert is moved out of the hall and into the outdoors, the audience gets very casual in their behavior. I have no problem with people wearing jeans and T-shirts to an outdoor concert. However, I do have a problem with those who act as if the symphony is there to just provide nice background music for their romantic evening. And when that romantic evening leads to making out on a blanket in the middle of a huge crowd of people, as did the couple in front of us, it makes me want to gag.

I also noticed a new trend. At least one quarter of the audience distracted themselves by playing games on their phones during the concert. I will admit to playing a game through one piece as well. It seemed harmless enough; the sound was turned off and the game doesn't bother anyone else. But those few minutes I spent concentrating on the tiny screen proved to me how much of the show I was missing. I couldn't pay close attention to the swells and melodies of the piece or pick out the bass fiddle or horn parts with my ear. And most of all I missed the dance of the conductor. David Cho was the conductor that night, and it was thrilling to watch his movements. I could barely follow the beat he was setting because his body was so busy acting out the motion of the music. Most interesting to me was that many times he seemed to be out of sync with the instruments, almost as he were giving clues as to what was just about to follow. The symphony played a piece with a western theme (I can't remember it's name!), and as Cho bent his knees in rhythm, I kept hoping he would really get into it and do a full squat. He didn't disappoint! I loved it!!

The second concert was more Kent's choice of music. We went to the final performances of the Salt Lake Summer Concert Series to hear Dum Dum Girls and She & Him, which has Zooey Deschanel as the lead singer. You would know her from "Elf" and "100 Days of Summer". I liked She & Him's music okay, but I've finally decided those concert scenes are just not for me. I did enjoy the company of the friends we went with, and I really had fun people watching. I caught myself staring at a dyed platinum blonde with a spiky pixie cut whose eyes seemed to be smiling; I determined it was because of the way she drew her thick black eyeliner, and it made her pretty in an in-your-face kind of way. I spent most of the concert trying not to get separated from our group as the crowd continually stirred around us. I found it fascinating that even with the masses pressed into a tight, standing mob, we each had a small amount of personal space. At any given time I had a dozen people within arm's reach of me, yet everyone was careful to not actually touch anyone else. I was also fascinated by the group of drunk college boys in front of me. I finally put Kent between us, which meant I couldn't see the stage, because I was afraid one of them might fall on me and I would end up smelling like him. I found myself seriously questioning the admissions decisions of universities, and then wondering if these people would actually grow up to be a contributing member of society. What part of our economy rests on these young men's shoulders? Scary!

In contrast to the symphony's audience, most of the rocker audience was very tuned into the show and didn't distract themselves with cell phones (probably to avoid dropping them in the crowd). I found it slightly humorous that the crowd constantly pushed closer to the stage, yet they could have heard each "intricacy" of the music from a block away what with the huge speakers amplifying every twang of the guitar. I left with my ears ringing and a determination that this just isn't my cup of tea. I hope Kent has fun at The Black Crowes concert tomorrow, and I'm glad he has lots of friends who like those sort of venues. I look forward to an evening with a quiet book. I'm sure sure we'll both love our choice of entertainment.

A Deluge of Posts Soon To Follow

2010-08-28T20:29:00.008-06:00

Hello to my four blog followers!

I know my posts this summer have been quite scanty. That fact speaks to a busy summer. I've had plenty to post about, both as a participant of events and as a thinker of random, and sometimes deep, thoughts.

I'm just taking a minute here to commit to recording some of the posts that have been floating around inside my skull. In fact, I'll take a moment to record one that just came to me.

On the subject of deep and random thoughts...

During my two summers in Oregon when I was a teenager, I had a group of friends that loved to quote Jack Handy. One of my favorites, and it has stuck with me for 20 years, goes as follows:

"The face of a child can say so much. Especially the mouth part of the face."

SO TRUE!

As my children mature, they don't say so many quirky things. However, a recent funny from #5 is based in his current propensity for assigning number values to things. When I told him that google is the biggest number there is, I had no idea how his little mind would clamp onto that concept. For the past month he has introduced google into at least google conversations each day. Earlier this week he asked, "If we had google of something, we could reach up to Jesus, because he lives in outer space, huh?" I could only agree (rather than introduce any other mind-bending concepts to him.

But that's not the quote I planned to share. The funnier one was when we were boating with my relatives at our family reunion two weeks ago. My dad was in the process of taking off his life jacket and replacing it with a shirt. In the middle of that transfer, #5 pointed to his grandpa and proclaimed (because he says nothing in an appropriately quiet voice), "Gross!! You have zero shirt on!"

It's really hard not to laugh at Jack Handy's deep thoughts or the real-life proof of their validty.

Where Is the Real Me?

2010-08-06T00:07:00.000-06:00

Caveat: I did not major in philosophy, so the following bumbling mess of words and thoughts might annoy you deep thinkers out there. I offer you my apology in advance.

A couple nights ago I was talking with two friends; both are full-time moms. One recently returned from a cruise. She mentioned how wonderful it was to relax, enjoy being with her husband, and rediscover part of her real self again. The other commented on recently gaining some discretionary income with her husband's new job. Less restrained by their budget, she is enjoying the process of discovering her tastes in clothing and color, and looks forward to finally owning a home that she can decorate as she wishes. She compared herself to a butterfly who wants to be a dragonfly.

I've been mulling over these comments since our conversation. Both women expressed having found or rediscovered a part of themselves that has been MIA for a long time. I'm pretty sure I, too, have talents waiting to be discovered that will reveal tastes I don't know I have; or maybe personality traits that don't currently find a sufficient outlet in the day-to-day running of my household. What bothers me is whether now is the time to look for parts of me that are hidden, or whether I wait for an impetus to reveal those things, as happened with my friends. They each had a change to their routine that uncovered exciting parts of themselves. I don't forecast any change for my near future. I don't even think my schedule allows me time to search for new pieces of me.

Or maybe I'm just not seeing the change because it is subtle.

I can definitely say I am not the same person I was 15 years ago, and I am happy about that. I am now more patient and kind. I have thrown off the shyness that for years hid my personality from all but my family members. I still have my competitive nature and stubbornness intact, both of which serve me well at times in various roles I take on. But has my routine as mother squelched part of me that I should miss? I don't remember.

Kent often says he wishes I let others see the person I am with him. Maybe I still carry a little reserve or shyness around. Or maybe it is the short time between the children's bedtime and ours that I can set down my other concerns and be myself a little. What holds me back? What part of me have I put away to be a mother? What part of me would emerge if I set my routine aside, even for just a few days?

I don't have answers for these questions, other than to say I am quite content with the person I am in general. Sure, I have flaw as well as relationships I want to improve, and that will require changes on my part. I guess I can at least look forward to always changing and discovering new interests as I mature.

What are your thoughts/experiences? I'm going to bed--one part of me that is always consistent is that I'm still a morning person!

The New White House Security

2010-07-30T23:52:00.005-06:00

Before I begin this post, I have to say that I had way too much fun coming up with titles for the post. Rather than just stick with one, I've decided to incorporate all of them throughout.

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR SKUNK
Sure, a lot of people loved seeing an animated viking "train" a fictional dragon. But have you ever seen someone train a fully loaded skunk? I've accidentally discovered how easy it is to do. First, it helps to live next to a field (if you can call the giant weed patch next to us a field). Then, just leave food in bowls for your outdoor cats, and eventually you'll have nightly visitors.

Kent heard one chowing down at 2:00 a.m. under our balcony a few weeks ago. Then on Tuesday night, I walked home at 10:00 p.m. and came within a couple yards of a white striped "cat" on our front porch before I realized what it was. I slowly backed away with it eying me, and made a safe escape. Tonight, we got another visitor on the deck. #1 and I watched it amble around, under tables and benches, barely taking notice of Brownie the cat lying and watching from literally a foot away. Now I'm wondering if there is

TREASON WITHIN THE WHITE HOUSE. (Okay, that title is a little weak; but what do you expect this late at night?) MY CONSPIRACY THEORY is that Brownie alerted the neighborhood skunks to the free food at the White House. All you have to do is lay around all day and the people deliver food and water for free. Maybe I'm seeing THE WELFARE SYSTEM IN ACTION on my own front porch. I haven't yet figured out what Brownie gets out of the deal. Maybe he's worked out some sort of protection contract with the local skunk mafia.

That brings me back to my original title. Upon my discovery Tuesday night, I started wracking my brain for creative ideas to rid ourselves of these little guys. My memory kept coming back to this hilarious post by my friend Charlotte, which I am using without her permission, but I'm pretty sure she won't mind. (Seriously, when you finish reading my post, click over to hers. Funny stuff.) As I thought about it--again, late at night--I wondered if I truly wanted to get rid of the skunk/s. I mean, if they're roaming around my yard all night, that seems like a pretty cheap security system, doesn't it? Some intruders might risk dealing with yapping dogs, but I don't think anyone would be dumb enough to cross a skunk.

Wednesday morning I talked some sense into myself and we stopped leaving the cat food out all night. Our two resident welfare recipients were pretty put out and meowed at us the following morning until we returned their bowls. The skunks are still visiting, but I hope they move on soon. On those nights that the kitchen trash must be emptied before bed, I am simply petrified of walking to the big trash can. It's almost like being in a suspense film: walking quietly and slowly so I don't startle "anyone" while my instincts (ha!) tell me to just run and get it over with. Maybe I should start tossing bags of cat food into the field to encourage them away. THIS SITUATION REALLY STINKS.

Neighborhood Kids

2010-07-16T10:45:00.017-06:00

One of the things I love about my neighborhood is all the great kids. With my kids--and their friends--getting older, I really enjoy having lots of children playing at our house. Honestly, once I was outnumbered by my own kids, adding a dozen more to the day didn't make a big difference. (I don't usually have that many here at one time, although it's happened on occasion.)

My own children like to play elaborate games of House or School or City. Recently, they divided themselves and their friends into various members of the community: librarian, storekeeper, postal carrier, pet store owner, parents, etc. All the "business owners" set up shop around my house and then they all frequented each other's businesses. #1's version of Wal-Mart in the front room was very creative. However I didn't appreciate losing some of my actual groceries when they cleaned it up. A month later we found my strawberry jam and whey protein stuffed behind #4's bed.

The kids also have fun playing outside. #5 and his friends like to play in the dirt, so they were happy when I outfitted them with trowels and hand rakes and they dug a nice hole for a tomatillo plant. Running through sprinklers and riding bikes are also favorite activities. Brownie the Cat likes

the neighbors who come to brush him or read to him. (I love this picture of #3's friend who found a picture book about a cat and decided Brownie wanted to hear the story.)

Part of what I love about having all these kids around so often is that I know where my own children are and what they are up to. It's not much extra work for me because they all entertain each other, and everyone is

good about cleaning up and going home when I tell them it's time. Truly though, I really enjoy most of the neighbor kids for their own personalities. I have fun being silly with them and I hope they will always feel comfortable in my home and want to hang around through their teenage years.

From what I've seen, the teens in our neighborhood are a tightly knit group that is welcoming to newcomers. They are out in small groups almost every night playing night games. My own kids talk about when they will be old enough to join in. Lucky for me, I already am.

Last night I met with my piano-playing friends to figure out some duets we can play together. When I arrived, one mom was on the phone with her teenage son who was trying to buy ammo for his Airsoft gun. He was frustrated that the store would sell him the gun because he's over 16 but not the ammunition because he's under 18. He eventually returned to his house and complained about it while the four of us moms listened. Then he and his friends decided to abandon their planned Airsoft war and start a game of Capture the Flag.

I pointed out that we moms are all old enough to buy the ammo, and one other mom jumped on that idea. We all drove to Wal-Mart and bought the Airsoft pellets (without being carded), and then "delivered" the ammo to the boys.

When we found them, we yelled, "Hey boys! Guess who IS old enough to buy ammo!" The whole group of boys just stood there staring at us. I was kind of disappointed at their lame reaction. We drove past and then flipped a U-turn. When they saw the minivan turn around with the moms waving the boys' own Airsoft pistols (and one rubberband gun), these boys took off for cover. Yes! That's the reaction we wanted. We hopped out of the van and cornered them in the back yard. After a few minutes, we called a truce as they told us about their confusion at figuring out who was coming for them until two of the boys recognized it as their family's van being driven by their own mom. It was great! We handed over the containers of pellets, which they happily agreed to trade for lawn work. Then we ladies hopped back in the van, reminded them that curfew ended in three minutes, and took off.

It's nice to know I'm not too old to play with the neighbor kids.

P.S. Today as I read about Airsoft laws, I realize we shouldn't have been brandishing these toy weapons in public--even late at night--because they look real. I can see how Airsoft would be fun to play on a course with everyone wearing goggles, but I do not encourage anyone to play with these guns in a neighborhood. Water fights and Capture the Flag are just as fun and much safer.

Celebrating the Fourth

2010-07-06T06:03:00.004-06:00

(This is one of those posts for posterity. Feel free to skim through the details and just view the slideshow if you like.)

I really loved our extended weekend holiday, which was perfected by three days of cool summer weather. This year, the temperatures invited us outside instead of chasing us to indoor air conditioning.

This perfect weekend began Friday evening as Kent and I celebrated our anniversary a day early. Our friend, Diana, loaned us a picnic basket, and following an evening movie, we packed a dinner of rotisserie chicken, bread and cheese, Amano chocolate, raw veggies from our garden, etc. We found a dimly lit knoll at a local park and enjoyed our late dinner as the stars emerged. We had an hour to reminisce over the past 17 years of courtship and marriage--we've now known each other for half our lives!--before a group of young adults interrupted our solitude with a game of paintball. So goes living in a college town.

We spent all of Saturday outside working in the yard, with little breaks for a bike ride and walk on the river trail. In the evening, we went to our friends, the Millers', yard for their neighborhood block party where the kids competed in slow bicycle races and a sidewalk art contest. Kent and I played bocce and rode a tandem bicycle, both for the first time. When night fell, the teenagers set off grocery-store fireworks until we all turned our chairs to watch the Stadium of Fire explosions a couple miles away. I have fond childhood memories of gathering with neighbors to eat and set off fireworks, so I am glad to have this same tradition for my kids--and all I have to do is show up with a salad and brownies!

Following Church and dinner on Sunday, I invited my children to watch the rebroadcast of the Freedom Festival's Patriotic Service. The program was different than those of past years. It involved a lot fewer speeches and a lot more music and singing, as well as a guest soldier who told his story of being one of only a few to survive an ambush in Afghanistan. I liked the service enough that next year I may even attend it in person.

Our holiday tradition changed this year. For the first time in 15 years, none of us adults felt like going to the Grand Parade. Instead, I went for a morning bike ride and Kent and #1 set up flags around the neighborhood with the Young Women. #5 somehow also ended up along for the ride and was very happy to get a stick of gum from the driver of the truck he rode with. My parents dropped in for a quick visit as we packed the van to meet for a picnic with Kent's parents. I enjoyed the leisurely morning so much that I couldn't imagine how we got out the door by 8 a.m. every other year for the parade.

In breaking with tradition, we decided to check out what Orem City offered at the Scera Park. The crowds at noon were small (everyone was still milling around Provo after the parade), so we found a lovely picnic area and strolled as we liked through the displays. The men stayed behind to rest and play cards while Grammy and I took the kids to an outdoor pageant about our country and others gaining freedom. At the pageant's conclusion, the children shook hands with and thanked a current Airman and Marine who are recently home from deployment. We then visited the Days of 1607 Colonial Village. #4 helped stoke the blacksmith's fire. The village cooper helped the seven of us make a wooden bucket. (We couldn't figure it out on our own, and I'm still not sure how he did it by himself.) The local doctor showed us his tourniquet and saw for taking off limbs. #3 and I learned about using canons in warfare, which is truly impressive stuff! (It took a crew of 12 men to get off four canon shots per minute.) #s 1 and 2 learned to tat, and the four youngest were rewarded with lemon drops after sitting through a lesson at school. The festivities also include a tour through Ellis Island and taking the test and oath of citizenship, but that experience will have to wait for next year as the men were restless to leave the park before we finished with the village.

We let the children change into swimsuits and headed to one of our favorite magical places up the canyon. It is a little neighborhood in Pappy and Grammy's ward called Springdell. There, the houses sit in a horseshoe around a pond and playground and the neighbors gather in their front yards to chat with whomever is strolling past. Our friends, the Bratts, have invited us to their home there a few times, but they were out of town for the holiday. I had forgotten that some other friends we had met on our December Mexico work project, the Pattens, also live there. They invited us to sit and indulge in homemade ice cream and conversation with them. The kids splashed around in the ice-cold pond for two hours until the whole neighborhood seemed to sense it was bedtime and all the visitors packed up to return home.

It is weekends like these that I live for: having alone time with my husband, visiting with extended family, worshiping with my ward family, and dropping by to chat with friends. I love the summertime, and I love my home in this grand country.

Look What #5 Can Do!

2010-07-01T22:20:00.004-06:00

In addition to collecting stray and abandoned pets, our porch collects old, broken bicycles. All last summer our children bugged us to fix their bikes, and Kent and I managed to procrastinate the chore. A couple weeks ago, Kent pointed out that we are robbing them of one of the joys of childhood and we should cough up the money and make sure they each have a working bicycle.

Some friends of ours teach their children bike maintenance, and the kids make money fixing neighborhood bikes. They hauled our bike collection over to their garage and made some minor repairs. Surprisingly, only one of the bicycles was not worth fixing. I can strip it for parts, though. The repairs cost less than half what I thought they would, which was pleasant news (though it adds to my procrastination guilt).

Tuesday morning we had four functioning bicycles waiting for my kids to ride. Since my kids' legs have grown considerably longer than the last time they could ride these bikes, I suggested that #1 help everyone figure out which bike now fits whom...and I went back to my gardening. (Yes, in years past I've prioritized my gardening hobby over fulfilling a basic element of their happy childhood. But I've repented!) Twenty minutes later, I looked up to see #5 riding down the sidewalk!

Last year he had a toddler bike with training wheels--one where the pedals are part of the axle of the front wheel. Other than that, he's had no bicycle training. Needless to say, I was impressed. #1 would balance the bike while #5 climbed on, and then she ran to get him started. Wednesday evening I spent some time with him at the church lot teaching him to stop without crashing to the ground, and to start on his own. The church's long, straight sidewalk bordered by grass on either side, and the big, empty parking lot provide the perfect arena for learning to ride a two-wheeler. Now #5 is independent on the bike, and is as proud of himself as I am of him.

Explanatory note: For those of you who clicked on a photo to enlarge it and noticed that #5's bike is pink, I ask, "What do you expect four older sisters to hand down to their only brother?" At least he's riding in his Batman pajamas instead of a princess dress! I did buy some black spray paint to make his bike more masculine. If you are concerned about my procrastinating habits affecting my little guy's manhood, feel free to come over and complete the painting project any time.

Janet, Elaine, and Me

2010-06-25T23:11:00.006-06:00

It seems that #5 is not the only one in our household who has problems with wardrobe. Okay, so maybe my wardrobe malfunction wasn't as drastic as Janet Jackson's or Elaine Benes', but I can feel for those women (even if one of them is fictional).

While Kent has been gone on a high adventure with some of the Young Men, I've taken to not caring too much about my appearance, which is why I spent half of yesterday in my workout clothes. It was nice tonight to have a planned Ladies' Night Out as a reason to doll myself up a little. Nothing big. Just 45 minutes spent cleaning up, applying some makeup and styling my hair. I was happy to see that I could easily undo the hat hair; the hat hair had shaped all day under the cap that hid my bed-head hair; the bed-head hair was very impressive having been augmented by doing nothing but air drying after swimming yesterday. I love flat irons.

Anyway, I thought I looked cute. I put on capris with no stains and a non-sweaty shirt and headed out the door to meet some friends for a tour of historic homes in Provo.

An hour after I came back in the door, I noticed a problem with my blouse. If it hadn't been non-sweaty before, it would be non-sweaty then because there was a big, open hole in the middle of my bosom area. This particular shirt gathers to a knot in that area. I always assumed it was just a gathering of fabric tied off inside the shirt. Now I know it was a gathered opening that was not tied off so well as I would have liked.

I asked my kids if they had noticed a hole in my shirt when I came home, and they answered that yes they had. They had said nothing because they thought it was supposed to be like that. Um, no!

I don't know how many of the dozens of people I passed tonight noticed the flaw, but I'm glad I wear unders between my skin and my clothes.

This little episode has got me thinking, though. I heard someone on the radio say once that if a person one day met the queen of England and she had a booger hanging from her nose, it would never be appropriate to point that out. Upon hearing that, I remember thinking, "I would probably at least signal to her that she has a problem, and she would probably be grateful." My first reaction to my discovery tonight was that I wish someone had told me so I could have fixed the problem. But on second thought, I don't think I could have fixed it without a safety pin, which I did not have with me. For tonight, ignorance was bliss.

So I'm curious. Do you usually inform someone of a wardrobe, flossing, hair, etc. malfunction? Or do you try to overlook the problem to avoid embarrassing the person--and end up noticing it all the more? (I'm going to throw some safety pins into my purse right now!)

BTW, the home tour was fantastic! We went through four homes, and though each still held old-fashioned roots, they were all quite different; very different decor that evoked different feelings, from modern to country cottage. I think artists must be attracted to restoring old homes because three of the homes displayed artwork everywhere and two of them held paintings signed by the homeowner. In one home I also noticed two paintings by one of my favorite artists, Wulf Barsch. Too bad he's so popular that I'll never be able to afford an original. Would it be an "art malfunction" to hire a rip-off artist next time I'm in Mexico? They paint pretty good duplicates.

Outnumbered

2010-06-21T21:10:00.005-06:00

Poor #5 doesn't stand a chance.

Recently I noticed that he and #4 were playing very well in their room. I thought I'd peek in and see what was up. Here's what I found.

He seemed to be going along with the process pretty easily. You can see that #4 did a good job with the eye shadow and she is about to put some tights on him. However, when he saw me, he scowled with embarrassment and shut the door in my face (which is when I took the opportunity to grab the camera).

After snapping the photo and having the door shut in my face a second time, I left them alone for awhile longer. Twenty minutes later, I heard their voices in the bathroom. I grabbed the camera again and barged in.

You can't see it in the picture, but his nails were painted and he was wearing the tights with some patent leather Sunday shoes. #4 also did a nice job with his hair accessory considering she didn't have much to work with.

Having four older sisters is bad enough. As I write this, I realize he REALLY doesn't stand a chance, what with having a mom who dashes for the camera when she should be wiping off his makeup. But how can I help myself? He's just so cute!

My New Favorite Way to Start Summer Vacation

2010-06-07T16:18:00.047-06:00

(Be warned: This post will make up for the last couple that had no photos.)

Just a few hours after the girls finished their last day of school to begin the Memorial Day weekend, we headed down south to Lake Powell for some relaxation and fun on a houseboat with Kent's extended family. Here are some of the highlights.

Of course, the kids spent most of their time in the water. #5 literally spent hours throwing rocks and clods of mud into the lake. Such simple pleasures.

In this photo, I love the way the water sparkles around #4 as if she were surrounded by water stars.

And speaking of stars...

The night sky was filled with them! Until the full moon would come out. We slept in the open air on the top deck of the boat, and the bright moon kept me awake most of the first night. After my mom-in-law loaned me an eye mask, I slept quite soundly being rocked by the water and cooled by the breeze each night after that. So nice! We let the kids stay up late each night, which also guaranteed me quiet mornings to myself.

Kent spent most of his time curled up with books that others had brought, which is pretty much an ideal vacation for him. I think he averaged a book a day. He got through the first two of the Hunger Games and now has to patiently wait for the third to come out this August.

#3 underwent a Lake Powell right of passage: jumping off the high diving board. I easily spent 30 minutes of recording time on my camera waiting for her to take the plunge over the course of two days. When her last chance had finally come...she did it! (The clip is 1 min 44 secs; I kept the whole thing because I like hearing the words of encouragement from her family. Skip to about 1:15 if you just want to see the big moment.) We were proud of her for working up the courage. When I asked her later if it was worth it (she got paid off with some bribes), she said flatly, "No."

Several of the attempted bribes for #3 to jump included back flips off the diving board by various Towner cousins. I am pretty happy that my little point-and-shoot camera caught this instant of Brandon's flip so well.

On Monday the water was tolerably warm and we all took our turns jumping off the boat one way or another.

#1 and Kent joined in the Lake Powell version of football with our cousins. The "quarterback" had to time her throw to meet the "receiver" as he ran off the diving board and the football had to reach him as he fell through midair. #1 proved to have a great throwing arm and hit her receivers 90% of the time. She was the only girl to leap off the boat for the football and made a good catch after a few attempts.

Kent caught the ball sometimes, but in this picture I think it's a fumble.

#5 got really excited about the idea of getting in the deep water and almost worked up the courage to jump off the back of the houseboat. When it came down to it, though, Aunt Anita just lifted him by his life jacket and set him in the water into someone's arms. You can see him very nervously waving as he clings to the ladder. It really must be a terrifying thing to float freely for the first time in a big body of water with no bottom to reassuringly rest one's feet on.

The best water toy is what we call The Slider. It's a two-person tube with no hole in the middle. It's great fun behind a speed boat because it skims the surface of the water and you can make it leap if you lean just right. It's also fun for playing around the houseboat. The first time #4 got on, she immediately grabbed the handles--all four of them!

My favorite game with the slider is to position it in such a way that it floats toward the boat's slide. When it gets to the right spot, you slide down and try to land in the middle without flipping it over. #2 tried it first. This video cracked me up!

Then I showed her the right way to do it. On my first attempt, I landed slightly off center and flipped backward head before heels into the water. On attempt number two, I landed it and earned an 8.5 from the judges. (I would have had to turn and smile at the camera as I flew off the slide to get a perfect 10.)

We managed to entertain ourselves out of the water too. Following brunch and a group testimony meeting on Sunday, we went for a boat tour. 17 of us fit on the ski boat and we witnessed some of the beautiful rocks and canyons of the lake.

Uncle Karl and Aunt Jan brought their family's paddle boat along, which the kids (my five plus one cousin) promptly took over. They packed picnic lunches and paddled over to the "island" rock in our cove. When they returned with the boat, they were very good about cleaning out the mud and sand and garbage they had accumulated.

Kent and I took the paddle boat for a spin (ha ha) one evening. I had to include this picture because I love how quickly I didn't care about wearing makeup or styling my hair once we were in that desert. It was nice, for a few days, to only worry about sunscreen. I was so diligent in protecting against the sun that I am probably the only one who has come back from Lake Powell with white legs. Oh well.

I did have fun with sunscreen on my kids. I decided to paint designs on their backs that would stay lighter than their tanned skin. It mostly worked. On #3 I painted these fairy wings. She laid out for another 20 minutes after I told her to come inside, so she burned instead of tanned. But you can really see the design!

The kids spent lots of time hiking rocks and burying themselves in the sand. Cousin Jason caught a lizard that #2 tried unsuccessfully to turn into a prince. That little lizard put up with a lot of handling and running on clothing before being released back into the wild.

My favorite spectator event is the bonfire. On the evening of our paddle boat ride, Kent and I passed an eight-feet-tall and 12-feet-wide stack of tumbleweeds. When darkness had fallen completely, the young males of our group fashioned torches out of paper plates stuck on branches and together they lit the bonfire. Then, just to punish their sunburned skin, they wrapped their shirts around their heads and danced around the 25-feet-high flames, whooping and leaping off rocks.

Tuesday morning marked our departure. The boys pulled up anchor and we headed back to the slip. Uncle Eric let #5 take a turn as captain for a few minutes, which was absolutely a highlight of the trip for my little guy.

Overall, it was a truly relaxing, wonderful way to begin the summer. It was great to be out of reach by phone or email for a short time, and I never once wished I were at home secretly cleaning or gardening. Kent and I hadn't realized how much we needed a vacation, so I'm glad his family made sure we had this one.

If I Could Send Scents Electronically...

2010-06-07T08:50:00.003-06:00

...I would share with all of you the humid smell of the river that pours into my bedroom in the morning. When I go downstairs I am welcomed by the scent of my lilac bush that spreads through our downstairs all night. I'm also loving the freshly shredded wood chips that are under our trees and in the garden. As the wood heats up all day, the forest smell just gets stronger. Love it!