Are We Really There?

The last month or so has provided me with several moments to reflect and pause in wonder that my life has progressed to its current point. It started with my little Caleb turning 12. Actually, he has never been little. Nine pounds at birth, and growing like a weed ever since -- he had his 12-year-old checkup yesterday and measured 5 feet 5 inches [97th percentile] and 112 pounds [75th percentile]. Yikes! Somehow, when I see him every day, his transformation from this . . .

. . . to this . . .

. . . seems like not such a big deal. But, really, when did it become possible for me to be the mother of a 12-year-old? Such a strange feeling. However, if I must be there already, I feel so privileged to be the mother of this 12-year-old. Caleb is a treasure. He is kind, conscientious, and tries to live with integrity. He has some fears, but he is working hard to be more responsible, to set goals and reach them, and to improve his talents. He has a strong moral compass and faith in God. One of the significant milestones of this birthday was that Caleb received the Aaronic Priesthood. Caleb is one who feels things deeply and has for some time recognized how the Holy Ghost communicates with him, and Jeremy ordaining him to the Priesthood was a tender moment for all of us.

Caleb had a friend party, which I should probably document, especially because I forgot to pull out the camera. Shame on me. The boys came over and ate dinner. We decided to do sloppy joes since pizza is way overdone at parties. Then Jeremy took them to the bowling alley. They played a game of bowling and still had a ton of time to "kill," so they played some laser tag. I'm not sure who had more fun, the boys or Jeremy. Afterward, they came back to our house, had root beer floats, and played the Wii for awhile until they were ready to end.

One more note. . . You might not be able to tell from the picture, but Caleb requested a Wii remote cake this year. I tried to convince him that he's old enough now to just get a regular cake, but he wanted one last hurrah. [We'll see if it's really the last. I'm kind of a sucker.] It didn't turn out fantastic, but you could tell what it was meant to be.

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I had another awe - some reflection when I realized I have celebrated Jeremy's birthday with him for 15 years now. Yep, we have now been together for THAT long. This is us way back then posing in front of the BY Academy [since restored and repurposed as the Provo City Library].

I thought back to how we celebrated his birthday 15 years ago and remembered we went to The Roof restaurant at the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. He requested this as his gift from his parents. I wish I could remember what I gave him. Probably not much of anything, since I was a poor student. After dinner, we wandered around Temple Square and had a conversation that brought us a little closer to making the decision to get married. We actually got engaged just about a month later. And look where we are now. I count my blessings every day that I have Jeremy as a companion and friend. He is my best gift.

St. Patty's Party Pooper

I was just wondering since when had St. Patrick's Day evolved from a day you just tried to find a clean, green article of clothing to a day full of magic and featuring mischievous imaginary men? Perhaps I should be more prepared [and enthusiastic] after my high school years as a fighting Irish. But I'm pretty sure all I gained there, in addition to a little luck from kissing the Blarney Stone, was how to draw a passable shamrock.

Perusing Facebook posts has given me a bit of an inferiority complex. It all started when I saw a friend's post saying she had finished making Lucky Charm treats. The day progressed with reports of bigger and more elaborate celebrations. Leprechaun traps, gift-bearing little green men, green meals, a "dinner at the end of the rainbow," various pranks. [I have to admit I was impressed by one friend who said the leprechauns stacked up all the dining room chairs in the hall, toilet papered, and put the vacuum on the table and a chair in the sink. That's dedication.] It doesn't help that apparently our next door neighbor's house is the most magical on the block. As a result, Aiden in particular expects letters from his own personal leprechaun, tricks of all sorts in the house, and footprints from leprechauns dancing in the garden at midnight. I just can't keep up with these Joneses.

I did manage to cast a spell upon the milk at breakfast [put a couple of drops of food coloring in the bottom of the bowl and cover with cereal -- when you pour the milk and mix it up, voila! it's green] and put green sprinkles on the toast. But then I forgot to wear green and made a very un-green dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Nary a Lucky Charms treat nor rainbow cupcake in sight. Aiden asked why we weren't having green food. My response: "Eat your spinach salad, son!" Who needs all those simple carbs, anyway?

So to make myself feel better after my run-in with Facebook peer pressure, I decided I needed to tally the things I did do yesterday rather than focus on my glaring neglect of this vastly important holiday. I washed three loads of laundry and folded one! I got my kids off to school, welcomed them home, completed homework, made them practice the piano, and got them to bed! I played balloon toss and otherwise [mostly] entertained/fed/clothed a 3-year-old! I made my bed! I prepared a very well-balanced and rather delicious dinner! I baked a batch of wheat bread! I washed lots of dishes! I know there's more but it's too late to think anymore! [I had to exclaim all of these sentences because I feel to celebrate each accomplishment and also because it seems like a very Facebookish thing to do.] So there you have it. Hope you had a happy St. Patrick's Day. And hope it was just as magical as you felt inclined to make it.

Mexinese

The other day Jeremy took the kids out for dinner so I could host book club in peace and quiet. They went to a Chinese restaurant, and Aiden learned how to use chopsticks very successfully. So successfully, in fact, that he has since used his chopsticks to eat almost everything. I have seen him down ice cream, cream of wheat, oatmeal, cheese, yogurt, and more with those two little sticks. My favorite, however, was when we sat down a few days ago for a dinner of chicken quesadillas, Spanish rice, and corn. Aiden whipped out those chopsticks and got to work. Perhaps he's on to something. Fusion at its finest.