Perspective

If you come here to read goofy observations or tales of silly doings, I'm sorry to tell this won't be one of those posts. But it's one I feel pressed to write. Not because I have anything new to add to the dialogue. Just simply because I need to work through the pervading melancholy I have felt over the past several days.

I got onto the computer to check my email at about 9:40 Friday morning, which is much earlier than I usually do. The Yahoo homepage headline fairly screamed at me. At the time, the information was still incomplete, but horrific nonetheless: 18 children [soon numbered at 20] plus 6 adults gunned down at an elementary school in Connecticut.

The news hit me hard. I felt sick. I felt sad. I was dazed. I couldn't concentrate. I worried. Of course my thoughts went to my own children. Had I hugged each of them before they left for school? Had I told them I love them? Had I spoken gently or sent them off in a rush of hasty words? Were they safe? I knew I still had to take Morgan to kindergarten. How could I watch her walk through those doors without the absolute knowledge it would be a haven?

I don't normally cater to fear. I don't usually stay down for long. But these events affected me deeply. I got Morgan ready for school and hugged and kissed her till she squirmed out of my arms. "Mom, I have to go to school. I have to learn!" Afterwards I sat down for lunch, bowed my head to bless it and pray for the grieving families and neighbors in Newtown, and sobbed.

I thought about my neighborhood school. I have friends who work there. Just in my little circle of 50ish homes, I can think of at least 5 people who are employed by the school. Many more can be found volunteering at the school on any given day. Widen the perimeter and I know a great percentage of the people who work, volunteer, and send their children to our school. I interact with many of the children there as well. I go to church with them. I have been their scout leader. I teach them piano lessons. My kids play with them. I've volunteered in their classrooms. When I walk through the halls, they say hi and give me high-fives. If something like Shady Hook was to happen here, it is impossible that I would not be directly impacted in a personal, horrible way.

I thought about how many of my close friends have chosen to be teachers. In my book club alone, for example, there are 7 current or former teachers. They are dedicated to their profession and love their students, and I have no doubt that if faced with a life-threatening crisis, they would place themselves between their students and any danger. If something like Shady Hook was to happen at any of their schools, it is again frighteningly likely that I would be impacted in a horrible way.

I thought about the shooting only a few days before in the Portland mall. It was a mall I shopped at once or twice as a teenager, and the shoppers there could have been people I know. I recalled learning about the Thurston High School shooting in Springfield, Oregon in 1998. I had been on vacation in Argentina, and when we got on the airplane to return home, I saw the newspaper headline. I had friends who went to that high school. I attended sporting events and plays there. The victims could have been people I know. These types of events are no longer things that happen only to other people far away. They happen anywhere and to people who could be my friends and neighbors.

I thought about a recent news headline about a terrorist setting off a car bomb near a school in Syria, killing several children and others. I felt there was little reaction to this event, though it was in the news, as if it was just standard procedure for a place like that. Where is the uproar and horror that should be attached to any circumstance where innocent people are threatened and killed? Just because it happened in a distant land and in a politically unstable part of the world, the lives are just as precious and worthy of protection and peace.

As I put my kids to bed that night, I thought of the unthinkable vacancy left in the lives of those whose children's beds will be forever empty. Suddenly having a mess to clean or behavior to correct or homework to do or groceries to buy or carpools to run didn't seem like such a chore. How can I complain about family work and responsibility when the flip side only equals emptiness? Jeremy and I also went to do some Christmas shopping that night. It felt strange to do something so ordinary and festive when other families across the nation are looking now at gifts that won't be opened on Christmas morning.

In the aftermath, our questions naturally sway toward things like: Why??? How could something so devastating happen? What must we do to prevent something similar from happening in the future? Is it a problem of gun control/lack of mental health resources/family breakdown/a culture of violence/religious decline/all of the above? These questions must be addressed, and quickly. Equally immediate for me are concerns like: How do I ensure my kids are prepared for potential crises? How do I talk to them about bad, scary things without unnecessarily frightening them? Will I make sure to learn whatever lessons from this I need to learn?

The effects of a nightmare like Shady Hook are bound to be lasting and overwhelming, even for those of us far removed from the point of the tragedy. Today I volunteered in Morgan's kindergarten class for their Christmas party. I was sitting on the floor with a small group of 5- and 6-year-olds playing a fun little game and watching the kids stuff their mouths with Skittles. Out of the blue my mind went to Shady Hook. A lump of fear struck my chest. I started mapping out escape routes and planning what I would do if our lives were in danger. Fortunately, the fear only lasted a moment. We carried on with our game. I laughed with the kids. Nothing bad happened.

For me, this is the key. Fear can't be the dominating emotion. I cannot be disabled by it. Bad things do happen, it is true. There are people in the world whose lifelong purpose seems to revolve around hurting others. Yet I want to choose to focus on a different kind. I want to seek out the angels who inevitably emerge from the dust and darkness. They are everywhere. They are the teachers who sacrificed their own lives to protect the children in harm's way. They are the first responders who got the children to safety. They are the neighbor who harbored several children and distracted them with games and stuffed animals until their parents could claim them. They are in the sincere words of our President offering comfort. They are the long-distance strangers who organize gifts and sentiments to be sent from afar. It reminds me that light always dispels darkness. Wherever light exists, darkness cannot triumph.

In the hours following the horrifying incident at Shady Hook Elementary, one thought revolved through my mind as if on a broken record. From the New Testament, Christ told his apostles in John 14:27, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." I know for some, this is not the answer they seek. But with those words ringing in my mind, my soul recognizes its truth, and as we reel and fall and hurt and grieve and stare terror in the face, we absolutely have a choice in how we will respond. I choose to look for the angels and seek His peace.

Believe

One of my piano students came to his lesson the other day and said, in a hushed whisper and with a knowing look in his eye:

"I just learned a terrible thing about the holiday icons!"

I, personally, have no idea what he was talking about.

'Tis the season

My inbox these days has received a flux of invitations to spend, spend, spend on the perfect gift for the holidays. My very favorite of all time showed up today. I won't name names, but one most generous vendor advertized the following:

"Up to 0% off!"

Ha, ha, ha, ha! It's a deal!

A few funnies

I've been trying to keep track of some of the funny things I've heard lately, but they're starting to fade. So I'd better record what I still remember before they're gone for good.

Morgan asked me if I went to Kindergarten. I replied, "Yes."
Then she asked if I went to third grade. "Yep."
"Did you go to college?" I did. And it's a good thing, too, as she then extolled the virtues of a higher education.
"In college you learn all kinds of things, like about football, and basketball, and even baseball!"

I finished reading Morgan a bedtime story, and she started to ask for a second.
"I wish I could have have a short, super short story. Like a hundred calorie short!"

Marissa was feeling a bit under the weather and asked for chicken noodle soup for dinner. She got up for a second serving and then ate it standing at the counter. Jeremy asked why she didn't come and sit down. Aiden reasoned, "Maybe it's because she's constipated."
We all looked at him, puzzled, until Jeremy realized, "I think you mean contaminated."

This song's been stuck in my head ever since

Our family bought into the rage of the Seven Peaks Pass of All Passes last year, which ended up providing some unanticipated perks. One of those perks was "free" tickets to watch Fiddler on the Roof at the Scera Shell Theater this summer. The tickets available were on the same day as Jeremy and my 16th (16th!!!) anniversary. At first I thought, C'mon! I don't want to take my kids on my anniversary date. But then I got over myself and decided it would be a worthwhile family outing.

There we sat on our blankets on a lovely August evening enjoying a very polished performance when the song Sunrise, Sunset started playing. I looked back at Jeremy and we smiled. This song is significant because my mom sang it at our wedding luncheon. It hadn't even crossed my mind when we decided to see the musical, but here we were, 16 years later (16!!!), surrounded by our kids, wondering the same questions Tevye and Golde were asking in the song:

When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?
Wasn't it yesterday when they were small?

It was tender. I cannot lie.

Mazal tov!

Summer flashback: fish tales

As the season changes and the temperatures cool, I find myself thinking back to summer. Here is something I meant to post a few months ago but neglected. While we were at the cabin we wrote letters to my brother, Spencer, who is on a mission in Wisconsin. Aiden's letter was so great I had to copy it down, and now I wish to share it. I've tried to preserve his wording and spelling as much as possible. Please enjoy.

Dear, Spencer

Me and my dad went fishing and the pole bended so far and so I reeled the fish in and it was tiney. And we went snorkel-ing. We oiled the outhouse. And also I went fishing by the shore and then all of the sudden I lost all of my bait and so I just chose to cast out my line and so it only took me two cast's and then a fish jumped in the air about at least 3 feet in the air it saw a fly and jumped to get the fly and I hirred and cast it out and hit it in the lip and I lost my breath oh wow I caught a fish and I reeled it in and took it to my dad and then about two days later I was fishing and I was chust sitting there on a rock and then there was 3 to 5 fish just right by the shore and so I reeled it in and then Marrissa came and she said hi Aiden and I said shhhhhh and then droped the worm and the bober. And waited about ten seconds and then the fish bit the worm, and then I was like woohooh but then it lost it but the fish was still not done it bit it again and it did that a couple times wait a secon-d. I forgott somthing to menchon Marissa was sitting next to me and Marissa said I don't see anithing daaaad she screamed and ther was three fish right by her left foot and then I said I told you. And then droped my bober on the shore then I caught the fish and it was bigish and littleish and they lived under the boat then I took the fish back to my dad and then the same exact thing happined in about 20 minuets after

the end

from

Aiden

 

Deja vu

People keep asking me how I like having all my kids in school and what I do with my time. Well, considering days like today, being a mom of school-aged children has not equaled rest and relaxation. I got a call from the office which reminisced a call I received exactly one year ago. This time it went like this:

Office: Anneka?
Me: Yes.
Office: This is Kerri [who also happens to be my neighbor] from the school. Morgan's here in the office. She bonked her head, and she's bleeding.
Me: Okie dokie. Be there in a minute.

When I got to the school, it became clear that this wound was not nearly as dramatic as Marissa's, but it was still bloody and in a difficult place to treat -- right in the back of her head. Add this to her awesome haircut, and she's a sight to behold. I don't think we'll do stitches. Maybe some super glue will save the day.

As for what I do now that all my kids are in school? Let's just say that being a mom is a 24-hour job, no matter what phase you're in.

P.S. When I brought Morgan home from school, I let her watch a movie. She chose Beauty and the Beast, so of course I had to sing along. "Mom," she said. "Your singing is not helping my head." Oh, blast!

What did you do in the summertime?

Did you ...

... build a Barbie zipline?

... eat a ginormous ice cream cookie?

... prepare for warfare?

... use the [fish] force?

... flex your muscles?

... welcome alien lifeforms?

... invent a game named "Card Wars" ...

... inspired by a cartoon?

... dance by an outhouse ...

... that you oiled?

... plant yourself in the sand?

... see life through the eyes of another?

If not, you're missing out! But no worries. There's always next year.

It was one day bound to happen

Before - 1st day of school

I was in the bathroom one morning last week when Morgan knocked on the door. I opened it to her smiling face, hair bedecked with an assortment of clips.

"Oooh!" I appropriately cooed. "How pretty! You did such a good .... wha-a-a?"

I spied something amiss. I looked closer. Oh, the horror! The hairdo was NOT pretty. The clips were disguising bangs clipped ever-so-efficiently to the scalp. I responded with the stupidest question a parent can ask, repeating it several times as if the answer would miraculously change.

"Morgan, what did you do?!?"

She knew immediately that she could no longer show off her work with pride and ran crying to her room. I persuaded her to come out eventually, myself a mixture of laughing, crying, and scolding. I discovered the extent of the damage as chunks of hair fell into my fingers, but somehow collected myself enough to take a couple of pictures.

As you can see by her refusal to look at the camera, her shame was complete. I dragged her from her hiding place in her bed to take her to the salon to see how we could remedy the 'do. She kept her blankie securely covering her head until the nice lady at the salon coaxed it off and previewed the damage. Her first suggestion was a pixie cut, but I couldn't bear it. So we opted for pulling some hair from farther back to create the illusion of bangs and then evening up the back in a little a-line. Considering what she was given to repair, I think the end result was all right. We can work with it -- at least for the next three to four months while her bangs grow back.

Ms. Potter, How Does Your Garden Grow?

I grew up loving Peter Rabbit. My mom read it to me when I was young, and I thoroughly enjoy sharing it with my kids now. I have decided, however, that Beatrix Potter must not have grown a garden. Here's the reasoning behind my hypothesis:

We have voles.

 

Okay, so a vole isn't quite the same as a snuggly little bunny, but it wreaks havoc on a garden just the same. I have recently developed an unexpected sympathy with Mr. McGregor, the maligned farmer who turned poor Peter's father into rabbit pie. The scene below has been comically recreated by Jeremy and me as we wage war upon these creatures. Just replace the rake with a shovel, and you've got the general idea.

"Stop, thief!"

Are we heartless animal haters? I like to think not. But if you could see all the nibbles in my potatoes and carrots and tomatoes and squash we have so carefully tended and urged to grow, you would understand my vengeance. Just like I now understand the villainous Mr. McGregor and am quite certain that Ms. Potter a garden did not grow.

Another Quote I Liked

This one is from Rise to Rebellion by Jeff Shaara, an historical fiction about the American Revolution. It is taken from a conversation between General George Washington and his wife, Martha, in which Washington expresses his doubt that the colonial army can secure the needed artillery and conduct its defense in the mire of winter conditions. I imagine the author took his fair share of literary license, but I still appreciated the sentiment shared in this passage, beginning with Martha.

"Where's your faith, George?"

"You do a much better job communicating with Providence than I do. The pure of heart are provided a better reception."

She had heard this from him before.

"God measures the heart. It is not for you to so easily dismiss yourself from His care."

Ah, what a little pearl. A good reminder for all of us from time to time.

The One Where Aiden Runs

I love many things about summer vacation. One is that our schedule becomes much more relaxed and flexible[ish]. This morning one of the kids' jobs was to take Zeke for a walk. Since I woke up to a migraine, I didn't get up and exercise when my alarm told me to, so I decided we should all walk together. That meant Caleb had the leash, Morgan was on her bike [with me pushing and prodding a good deal of the way], and Aiden, whose bike has a stubborn flat, was walking. [Marissa was at basketball camp.]

Here's what was so great about our walk: watching Aiden run ahead with Morgan. That boy ran with such reckless and spirited enjoyment that I had to laugh out loud. It was very Phoebe-esque, if you are a Friends fan. [If you need a laugh, try this.] I decided I need to take a lesson from him and approach life with more abandon. This may just include wildly flailing arms. Consider yourself warned.

And here's a good one for the record books. At dinner last night Morgan said, "Mom, you're the queen. And Dad's the ... other queen."

Requiem for a Computer

I have been sans computer for the last little while. Ours finally bit the dust. Kicked the bucket. Keeled over. Went toes up. I guess technically [ha, ha] speaking, I could turn it on and use it for very brief periods. But the fans went kapoot, so it would start overheating and giving off a sharp electrical burn smell, which we figured was a bad thing. The poor old girl has been on its last leg for some time, but we were trying to eek out every last bit of life we could. 

Meanwhile, Jeremy has been researching a replacement. When I say, "meanwhile," he's really been at it for probably a year or more. We liked the idea of a laptop. It would give us portability. I could pay bills in my office [aka, the kitchen table], instead of hauling everything from one room to another and back again. We are also getting to where multiple family members need the computer at any given time, so a laptop would give us flexibility. We've been saving up some funds, and now with our not-so-trusty, hand-me-down computer officially dead, we went shopping today! Wheee!

Now, it's no big secret that I am a horrible shopper. I procrastinate every kind of shopping. I don't like spending money. I usually have buyer's remorse or feel guilty that I really didn't need [fill in the blank]. I get irritable and tend to complain a lot. But today I experienced a little bit of the serotonin or whatever feel-good chemical it is that makes shopping addictive for lots of folks. We walked out of the store with our precious bundle, and I felt a little giddy and might have giggled a little bit. That's not to say I won't eventually have some of the above-stated side effects when the serotonin rush wears off, but for now I'm enjoying the ride.

All this said, I have a soapbox item to attend to. Not having a computer for a few days was actually kind of nice. I did feel somewhat out of the loop and frustratingly disabled when it came to certain things. But I also felt liberated. The obligation to respond to emails vanished because I couldn't. I didn't waste time perusing Facebook or just staring at the screen wondering if there was anything I could browse. I read a really long, good book. It's true I'm already on the low end of the technology-use spectrum. I don't have any hand-held devices, including a cell phone. I usually only get on the computer once a day after the kids are in bed. Silence is okay with me. Maybe my withdrawal symptoms were muted because there wasn't much to mute. But disconnecting felt good. I think everybody should try it once in a while. Just walk away, maybe for a day. I have to say this today, with the experience so near at hand. Because now, with my sweet little laptop so easily accessible, I might have to remind myself how free I felt the week my computer was put to rest.

*Post Script: What has blogger done? They've gone and messed with everything, and I feel like a lost soul. Like, why are the spaces between my paragraphs so HUGE. Argh! I suppose I can exercise my adaptability, if I must.

Seriously

Way back when... let's just say 20 years ago or so... my little sister, Bethany, used to play a game with her friends. There are various versions of the game, but the way it worked for them was to look at each other with the most serious look they could conjure and take turns saying, "This is a very solemn occasion," until one or the other [or most likely both] busted up laughing. Me, being the sophisticated teenager that I was, thought they were pretty ridiculous and didn't get what was so great about the game. Flash forward 20 years and I have significantly changed my tune.

See, now I have kids about the same age as my sister was then. I first explained the game to Marissa a few weeks ago, and it quickly spread through the family. We have since had numerous duels of solemnity. The best was at dinner a few nights ago. We all had a major case of the giggles. We had to outlaw the use of "duck lips," as a preventative measure against smiling. And who can't help laughing when Morgan looks at you and says, "This is a very sodmelvacation"? Even my own sophisticated teenager joined in, but nobody takes you too seriously when your voice is cracking.

In between gasps and guffaws, I paused to look around the table, counting this as among my most treasured blessings, to hold on to that moment for as long as a plateful of spaghetti will last. Truly precious. Seriously.

The Rest of Spring Break AKA Murphy's Delayed Reprise

Ha ha, doubters! I'm back for the conclusion of our spring break adventures. I left off last time trying to decide how to spend our Thursday. First of all, the variety of popsicle stick creations multiplied. I'm not sure how many sticks of hot glue the kids went through, but I don't think I care when considering how much they enjoyed it. I ran down to pay for the car repairs and exchange Jeremy's car with the van. While I was out, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up some scone dough. I'm not much into frying food, but we recently discovered that the wok makes a handy fryer. You can adjust the temperature easily and it has a deepish well for holding oil+food. Another benefit on this particular day was its independence from the stove, which repair I was still waiting upon.

While we waited, the kids were getting stir crazy, so I decided we should try some microwave "baking." I found a recipe for Chocolate Oreo Rice Krispie Squares. We substituted mint Oreo cookies since that was what we had left over from our Monday picnic. My review is that it wasn't the most super-fantastic-blowyourmind treat, but it satisfied my chocolate craving, smelled really good, and was quick and easy and child friendly.

The oven fix-it guy arrived and determined the malfunction was with the computer. Not a cheap deal, but at this point it was better than having to buy a whole new appliance. He was able to replace it on the spot, and I'm pleased to say I haven't had any problems since. The only downside, beside the cost, is that it has a more annoying beep--it really bugs the kids--and the number 9 looks funny. I suppose we can cope.

In the meantime, we had an unexpected visit from Grandma. She'd been working on a quilt for Morgan's bed and stopped by to deliver the finished product. I should have taken a before picture, because Morgan's bed used to be a mishmash of about 4 or 5 crib-sized blankets. Now she has a happy bed. I took this after picture when I found Morgan later that day just sitting and playing on her new, pretty bed. She loves it.

Friday Jeremy took the day off of work and we decided to go to the movies. The kids were split between The Lorax and Journey 2: The Mysterious Island. I'm quite convinced which would have been the more quality and socially conscientious choice, but since when were those primary reasons for making any decision? Journey 2 was playing at the cheaper [and stinkier and stickier] theater, so naturally that's where we went. Afterward, we let the kids choose a place to eat, and so we headed to Golden Corral. As much as I want to just sit and be served, the kids went home stuffed and happy. We also stopped to find some new shoes for Caleb to replace his duct taped ones. He needed size 11. We looked for pants, too, but apparently stores don't sell size 30 x 34.

Saturday was just a get things done day. We cleaned house, worked in the yard, trimmed the rose bushes, did laundry, things like that. The kids played with friends. Nothing too monumental.

On Sunday I got around to taking the Easter picture of the kids I meant to take the week before. This time at least I wasn't scrambling out the door trying to be on time to practice with the choir and making sure I had everything I needed for my Sunday School lesson. This time it was just the standard scramble, which leaves plenty of time for a quick picture. I think they're such a handsome bunch!

So now you might be wondering why the reference to Murphy's reprise. Well, the rest of spring break went well. Nary a hitch in sight. Hallelujah! Fast forward to Tuesday, however, and things took a turn for the worse. Marissa was participating in the Hope of America program at the Marriott Center. We took the family, and as we drove through traffic the van started to overheat again. What!?! Isn't this what we just payed them to fix? We did some creative maneuvering to make sure we didn't sit and idle for too long and made it there and home again without the engine completely exploding. Wednesday morning we dropped the car off at the shop for take 2. Another few hundred dollars later, and I have to trust them that now we have a permanent solution.

Then Friday I was doing laundry and put a load of sheets in the dryer. A while later I realized it had been running for an awfully long time. I opened the door and everything was wet and cold. Super! I pulled the laundry out and draped it around the house, including the second load of sheets that was still in the washing machine. Jeremy came home and disassembled the dryer and was able to replace the heating element. Thank goodness! He's my hero. He also cleaned out the laundry closet better than it has been since we bought the dryer.

And you know how I jokingly said the next 10-year-old thing to break would be Marissa? Well, Friday I took her to the doctor to check out a bump that was hurting on the side of her foot. It appears not to be anything serious, just an overuse injury of the toe joint most likely from soccer, so right now we're treating it with ice and ibuprofen. I think Marissa is hoping to get an x-ray, which would be the next step if it doesn't improve. That will just have to happen before our insurance changes next month and everything gets a lot more expensive...

We are on a roll!

Spring Break So Far AKA I Have Words for Mr. Murphy

In an effort to remedy my documentary lapses, here's a rundown [with pictures!?!] of our spring break adventures, part 1. You can start placing your bets on whether part 2 will materialize or not.

We started the break with our annual Easter egg hunt. We modeled it after the hunt Jeremy's family participated in while he was growing up and initiated it in our neighborhood about a year after we moved here. Eight years, and going strong! The kids love it. My favorite part is watching our friends walk around and mingle and hearing their happy voices greet one another. It's one of the times I'm convinced we live in pretty nearly the best place anywhere.

Caleb had a scout campout, which was fun for him. I made a valiant effort to harass him less than the last time. I'll admit I felt a little bummed that he wasn't here to participate in the traditions. Such a little thing, but I definitely felt the vacancy. I guess I need to get used to this part of a growing family.

Monday was a full day of playing with friends, planting the early spring veggies in the garden, going grocery shopping with all children in tow, letting them pick out goodies for a picnic, and then taking said picnic at the new Neptune Park in our burgeoning city. I suppose you could describe the park as "state of the art," with some really unique play equipment that requires me to quell my protective instincts and obtrusive fears that my children are going to die. Which means, of course, that they think it's completely awesome. The weather was lovely, with sun and just an inkling of a breeze. This, of course, meant that lots and lots of other people had the same idea, making the park crazy, but we had fun regardless.

Tuesday we decided to go on a hike. Now that my kids are big enough to have a reasonable amount of stamina, I'm feeling more adventurous. We planned to hike the Y. I haven't done that hike since my freshman year at BYU [I just calculated how many years that has been--good gracious!], and that time we hiked it in the dark. So I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. But every self-respecting BYU fan should be able to say they've stood on the Y at least once. We packed a lunch and some snacks, topped off the water bottles, donned sunscreen and hats, and got a move on.

We were approaching the foothills when my car dinged at me. I looked down at the gauges and saw that my car was overheating. I quickly shut off the air conditioning and watched the temperature drop. Hoping that would be enough of a fix, I started up the hill toward the trailhead. A few blocks further and the dinging resumed, this time with a more desperate sound. I pulled over and turned off the car. Lifting the lid, I could see the reservoir thingy [technical term] for coolant hissing and boiling and bubbling hot liquid out the top. Coolant was running down the road behind us. Probably not a good sign. It was time to make an executive decision. Option A: I could see the parking lot for the trail head just a ways ahead. We could start our hike here and then find someone with a phone when we got off the mountain and call Jeremy to save us. Maybe by then the car would have cooled enough to drive again. Option B: We could abandon the hike and try to flag someone down for help. I, the executive, opted for A.

Up we hiked. I got some complaints at the beginning, mostly from Morgan that it was SO-O-O LO-O-O-ONG, but we soon found our stride. We took regular beverage breaks at every switchback, and I'm sure it was one of the slowest progressing hikes known to man. Toward the end, though, Morgan was fairly trotting up the mountain. If it hadn't been for one last steep slope at the finish where she needed a hand, she would have been the first one there.

We sat at the top of the Y, taking in the sight of the valley. I haven't done a hike with a view like that in a while, and it was so rejuvenating. When everyone felt sufficiently refreshed, we started back down. Marissa twisted her ankle sliding down the initial descent, and Morgan's feet kept slipping out from under her, so I had my work cut out supporting the two of them, but we made it down just fine. We even ran into my cousin Cindy and a couple of her kids. I found a generous soul in the parking lot who let me borrow his phone, called Jeremy, and then walked back down to the car. We ate our lunch and waited for our knight to save the day. He topped off my coolant and insisted I take his car home and he would risk it in mine.

Of course, we can't take any trip near the vicinity of BYU campus without going to the creamery for ice cream. We convinced Jeremy to join us and savored some sweet goodness together. Then we headed home. Jeremy also made it home, but reported the car started to warm up any time he had to wait at the lights.

Wednesday morning we took the car to the shop. Since Jeremy had to have his car, that left us stuck at home for the day. The weather also took a turn for the worse, so the kids had to entertain themselves creatively. And this they did. It's amazing what can be accomplished with a glue gun and popsicle sticks and tissue paper. Just a sampling of their creations: stars, arrows, a lemonade stand, a rocket ship, houses, alphabet letters, and who knows what else?

In the evening, I fixed dinner, which included broiling some asparagus. We sat down to eat, but I noticed an electric burning smell. This has happened when I've forgotten to turn off the broiler, but it was off according to the display. Suddenly the oven started beeping at us. I went to investigate, and the broiler was on full blast. I hit the 'off' button, but it didn't do anything and just kept beeping. So we pulled the oven out from the wall and unplugged it. On the bright side, it gave me the opportunity to scour behind the stove. On the not-so-bright side, when we plugged it back in, the broiler turned back on and did the same thing. This brings our 'defunct items' tally up another notch.

1. Car's in the shop
2. Replaced dishwasher about 1 1/2 weeks ago
3. Replaced the vacuum about 1 week ago
4. Computer is barely hanging on for dear life
   
5. Now the oven is a major fire hazard
   

Jeremy asked, "What else is 10 years old and ready to break?"

"Marissa...?" I replied.

Heaven forbid! Here's hoping Murphy's Law has had it's fill at our house. Now it's Thursday and I'm trying to figure out what to do on a grey day with a houseful of restless and slightly ornery kids who've been going to bed too late. I have Jeremy's car today, but the oven repairman is coming between 2 and 4 this afternoon, which puts a kink in at least one of my ideas. We'll just have to make the best of it.

A Little Healthy Competition

We had a lovely Easter today, celebrated in part with our traditional jellybean hunt. When I was growing up, my parents -- er, the Easter bunny -- would hide jellybeans all over the house for us to find. I'm not sure how the tradition started, but I suspect it was just too wet and rainy outside to have a typical egg hunt. Anyway, we decided to do the same for our kids, and I get a kick out of the whole thing. This morning the hunt was tapering off, so I started scouting out some of the stealthier spots to see what might have been missed. When I'd spot one, I'd summon the hunters, who would swarm around until it was sniffed out. At one point, Morgan found the jellybean, grabbed it up, and cried, "Heh, heh, heh, SUCKERS!"

Um, so kids... how about a talk about the reason we celebrate Easter?

I'll Have Some Milk With That

The other day Morgan said, "I wish cookies had seeds."

"Really?" I asked. "Why?"

"Then I would take them [the seeds] out and eat them [the cookies], and then I would put them [the seeds] in the dirt and we'd have a cookie tree!"

Yes, please.

And speaking of wishes, here's a quote from the most recent book I read, Summer of the Monkeys by Wilson Rawls:

"... I do believe that any wish you make can come true if you help the wish. I don't think that the Lord meant for our lives to be so simple and easy that every time we wanted something, all we had to do was wish for it and we'd get it. I don't believe that at all. If that were true, there would be a lot of lazy people in this old world. No one would be working. Everyone would be wishing for what they needed or wanted."

"Papa," I asked, "how can you help a wish?"

"Oh, there are a lot of ways," Papa said. "Hard work, faith, patience, and determination. I think prayer and really believing in your wish can help more than anything else."

Commentary

On my housekeeping skills:

While Morgan was at preschool on Friday I vacuumed the house. She came home, took one look, and said, "Whoa! What happened to the carpet?!?"

Is a clean floor really that much of a novelty? My head is hung in shame.

Since I need some validation every so often, here are some additional jobs I did Friday.

changed and washed the sheets on the downstairs beds
cleaned the bathrooms
washed the towels
swept and mopped the floors
washed the sliding glass door
scrubbed several surfaces in the kitchen, including the fridge, dishwasher, oven, sink, pantry door, walls, baseboards, and back of the stove
re-mopped portions of the kitchen and entry after the kids came home from school with muddy shoes
organized the food storage
fixed dinner

If you were curious, I did not get a shower.

Speed Dating

Jeremy and I are enjoying this stage in our family right now. One of the best parts is that the kids are old enough for us to leave for chunks of time while we go out and party hearty. Ironically, just as we are reaching this coveted stage, the kids are also old enough that they have multiple activities pulling us in different directions, making date nights difficult to arrange. But we shall persevere and overcome!

To celebrate Valentine's last night, we decided to just get some take out to eat when the kids were in bed. But the complications of this plan became apparent when we outlined the evening's activities. Aiden had to be at basketball practice from 6-7. Marissa had dance from 6:45-7:45. In between all this there was homework and practicing to enforce. It was also bath night. And then bedtime is usually staggered from about 8 until after 10 most days. Take out wasn't sounding like such a great idea after all.

Did I already mention that we shall overcome? I applied my thinking cap and realized that if we got one of Aiden's teammates to bring him home from practice, Jeremy and I could go together to drop Marissa off at dance and then head to one of our town's fine dining establishments for a meal.

Herein lies another kink in our not-so-well-laid plans. Our town has almost no options for a decent meal. We have an assortment of fast food, which would work for our time constraints, but the food snob in me asserted itself against Burger King, et. al., for Valentine's. That left about 2 other choices. We stopped at one, saw the waiting line, and knew that wouldn't work. That's when we remembered another little restaurant down the way: a BBQ joint called Sean's. Plumb out of feasible alternatives and running out of time, we skipped on over. I ordered a beef brisket sandwich on Texas toast with a side of sweet potato fries and sampled the Black and Blue [blueberries and blackberries] BBQ sauce. Jeremy tried the triple threat, a combination sandwich with pulled pork, ham, and bacon. He got steak fries on the side but kept stealing mine. May I say that I am completely won over? I have been thinking about that sandwich ever since. Even now, I think I'm drooling just a little. And to top it off, the timing was perfect. We licked our fingers and arrived back at the dance studio with a few minutes to spare.

It may not have been leisure or well thought out or highly romantic, but Jeremy and I made it a delightful and delicious Valentine's speed date. The very best part, I must add, was the company. Happy Valentine's day to my friend and true love!

Trivia Bloopers and Other Bits

Part I: The other night for family home evening we played a trivia game called Beat the Parents. I was highly amused [or should I be worried?] by a few of the answers the kids came up with.

Q: What is the date of American Independence Day?

A: February 29th!

Q: What is the date of Valentine's Day?

A: February 29th!

Q: In which country were the first Olympic Games held?

A: California!

Q: What is a doctor for children called?

A: Dr. Suess?

A: A vegetarian!

Good times and laughter shared by all. And I would like to wish our country a happy 59th birthday this year. [Yes, I am nerd enough that I did the math.]

Part II: Caleb had his first Klondike campout with the Scouts last weekend. I did my motherly best to make sure he had everything he needed and tried to convince him I was just doing my job by harassing him with questions:

"Do you have your hat?"
"Do you have extra socks?"
"Did you get your long johns?"
"What else do you want in your lunch?"
"Do you have your gloves?"
"Which gloves did you bring?"
"How about your toothbrush?"
"Are you sure you have your hat?"
"Am I bothering you yet?"

Well, he came home exhausted but in one piece, all fingers and toes accounted for. But he had to play a basketball game later that evening, and based on his dazed, sluggish stupor, I foresaw disaster. I'm not sure what happened, but he ended up having his best game yet. Not only did he score more points than usual, but he got loads of rebounds, hustled all over the place, and even made a break-away layup. Where did that come from? We joked that maybe he should sleep on the ground in the snow before every basketball game. Proud mom, beaming just a little.

Oldies and Birdies

Aiden was playing Pacman on the Playstation today and said incredulously,

"Mom, it's AMAZING! These games were made in the 1990s. . . and they're still fun!"

Remarkable!

Other randomness. . . Morgan has been nesting lately. She found my stash of Easter eggs and has been building little nests of blankets and pillows all over the house. I found her watching t.v. the other day perched atop one of her nests, and she gave me a little peek at the colorful assortment of eggs she was incubating. Then a little while later she came soaring through the kitchen, flapping her arms, and said, "I'm teaching my little ones how to fly." My little ones. Ha, ha!

Scene III Act II

Setting: Dinner table. Family discussing events of the day, which includes something naughty done by Morgan. Morgan appears increasingly upset by conversation.

Morgan: This is the part where I cry!

Sobbing ensues. Exit Morgan. Door slams. Dog barks.

End scene.

In other news, we succeeded in making the most fantastically perfect ebelskivers tonight. I think bragging is appropriate for the occasion. It's only taken us 15 1/2 years to figure them out. I think my favorite part of the meal, though, was Morgan calling them "apple skeeters." It just hit my funny bone.

What I Read in 2011

I love to read, and I don't doubt I spend more than my fair share of time doing it. I suppose I could use my time more effectively. My house could be cleaner. I could plan my shopping trips and coupon strategies more thoroughly. I could help Morgan dress up her Polly Pocket princesses [actually, I can read and do that]. On the other hand, I could while away the hours playing Angry Birds or posting complaints on Facebook.

I find repose in a good book. My book club makes me happy. I savor beautifully crafted words. For my personal record, these are the books on my "Reads and Rereads" sidebar from last year. I just have to note my favorite find of the year was Leif Enger. I thought his use of words was masterful. If you're looking for authentic characters and language to relish, you should check him out.

• Daughters in My Kingdom by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
  
• The Long Walk by Slavomir Rawicz
• A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
• The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
• A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
• Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
• The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
• Beyonders: A World Without Heroes by Brandon Mull
• So Brave, Young and Handsome by Leif Enger
• The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson by Mark Twain
• At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon
• Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
• Loud and Clear by Anna Quindlen
• Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
• When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead
• The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
• The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson #5) by Rick Riordan
• The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan
• Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy
• The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson #4) by Rick Riordan
• The Brothers Karamozov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
• The Titan's Curse (Percy Jackson #3) by Rick Riordan
• The Sea of Monsters (Percy Jackson #2) by Rick Riordan
• The Princess and the Hound by Mette Ivie Harrison
• The Grass Harp by Truman Capote
• Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens

Who Told?

I want to know where the fly on our wall is hiding. This was pretty much how our new year played out. Even down to the time on the alarm clock. [I kid you not -- although I am a little ashamed to admit it.]

**sigh**