Daily Gratitude - Day 14

It's been a day. Not a bad day but just one of those days that has a lot of...circumstances. Daniel has some sort of stomach bug which doesn’t make him act sick or whiny but has had 4 episodes of diarrhea, which is pretty messy when dealing with the newly potty trained. Not very fun for mom to clean up but I feel for the guy. He still felt happy enough to sing this sweet ditty right before his nap.




I started working on a Christmas project that is going to take many hours to complete but I kept finding ways of interrupting myself.  I am not a good multi-tasker so the only way I tend to get things like that done is to focus, ignore all the other to-dos, and work until its done. It's not a very pleasant or efficient way to accomplish things but it's how it goes. Next week is so busy that I'm nervous I'm not going to get it done unless I can sort of neglect things one day this weekend and hopefully finish.

I'm getting some new furniture for my living room delivered on Monday so I'm finally utilizing the
“sunroom” of my house (a room behind the kitchen that has walls of windows on 3 sides that I’ve basically used as a storage and workout room for the past 4 years so there is quite a bit of stuff to transfer to a new place. Or get rid of.) and converting it into an additional family room by moving our current living room furniture into it. I'm also putting an additional TV in there in the hopes that this will become the sort of go-to hang out room for my kids.  I constantly battle them bringing food into the living room when they are watching sports and I don’t want the battle over spills on my new furniture. My point is, that a new TV required another Direct TV genie receiver which required an installation from a Direct TV service guy which required me dealing with a stranger in my house for over 3 hours because whoever originally wired this house did it weird. Every service person that’s ever come to work on anything (plumbing, electric, cable) has said it. Three hours with a stranger is  a lot of discomfort for me. I don't know what I'll do if we ever remodel because I sort of dread anyone in my house.

My replacement phone from cracking the screen on my iphone was also delivered. I purchased Apple Care with my phone which is kind of dumb when you don't live near an Apple store. I could barely make out text on my screen it was cracked in so many places (I dropped it in the church parking lot several weeks ago) but they have this deal where they will send you a matching refurbished model and you send back your broken phone. It sounds easy but it wasn't  I had no idea about the SIM card, because I've never had to know about it before, so I had to have a lengthy conversation with verizon technical support when I couldn't figure out how to activate my replacement phone. This all happened while my kids started trickling home from school and while strange Direct TV guy kept asking me questions I didn't know the answer to while cursing about how confusing everything was in my house.  Oh...and earlier....while I was showing him how to access all of the cable in the crawl space, I found a dead, decomposing mouse I had to discard. I wanted one of those Ebola hazmat suits but had to use what I could find which was some tongs, a lot of paper towels to make sure my skin didn't come close to any of it and a large paper bag. Blech.

I realize that I am being obnoxiously melodramatic about what are undoubtedly first world problems (except for the diarrhea and dead rodent.  Those are legitimate grievances by any world standard). But, yeah, wah wah about having to get new furniture and TV and phone. Poor me). Thankfully, because I am not trying to audition to be a Real Housewife on a reality TV show, I wasn’t grumpy or anything, just not relaxed or really not wanting to deal with much more before I did have a stress meltdown. It was probably not the best day, then, for Henry’s playdate with his friend, Owen. Unfortunately for Owen, I had promised and arranged for him to ride the bus home with Henry so now I had another extra person in the house (Direct TV guy is STILL here) and it’s raining and cold and there is no working TV and....and....and...

I was fine because I knew I had a night out with Jay ahead of me. Before he left for work, he had left a cute note on the kitchen counter asking, “Will you go out with me tonight?” with a box for yes and a box for no.  I checked “yes” and looked forward to it all day.

The Direct TV guy finally left after 3 hours (he had to reinstall cable through the entire house. I have no idea why), Owen’s mom came to pick him up, I went into town and got Seth who was playing basketball with friends at the Rec center and picked up Burger King for dinner for the gluten kids. I made a quick broiled roast beef and cheese sandwich for Sam and, finally, Jay and I went to the 7:00 show of Interstellar. Our dinner was popcorn, diet coke and milk duds but it was fine. It’s all fine. I’m with him.

I am still in love with my husband. Of course, I love him, because I know that love is a verb and we have so many sacred shared experiences together that I can’t imagine not loving him. But I am also in love with him. He is my favorite thing. The other stuff becomes funny side stories when I get to spend an evening laughing about it all with him.

I know this is basically two days in a row of Jay gratitude and I thought of leaving out all of the annoying commentary about an ordinary day and just being grateful for dates and time with him but it’s more than the date and it’s more than the time. It’s him. It’s the promise of him. No matter what happens, I know he will be the yin to my yang and, the salt to my pepper, the twinkle to my star. Forever. I am blessed.

Daily Gratitude - Day 12

Today has been a bit of a whirlwind. I'm tired in that satisfying wow-I-got-a lot-done-today way. So, to give my brain a well deserved night off, here's a list of things I'm grateful for....today.

• Washing machines
• Dryers
• Blendtecs
• ammonia
• clean sheets
• kind emails
• apple care
• sisters
• drive-thru banking
• drive-thru library returns
• the internet
• businesses that allow me to schedule things online so I don't have to talk to anyone on the phone
• businesses that allow me to chat with service people online so I don't have to talk to anyone on the phone
• my comfy car for the many, many, many, many, many hours in which I spend driving, dropping off and generally waiting for others to be done with something.
• Zia Taqueria and their delicious wahoo fish salad bowl
• efficient grocery store checkers
• buy one get one free sales on meat
• vacuum lines
• scrubbed clean toddlers in footed pajamas
• family prayer

Something Isn't Always Better Than Nothing

Imagine you love Mozart's music.  His clean melodies, balanced harmonies and crisp rhythms.  You listen to his music whenever possible and have all of his CDs but nothing brings you as much joy as listening to a live performance with an amazing orchestra at the helm.  The energy in the room is palpable and there is something about the passion of the performers, their bows moving up and down, their fingers and breaths in perfect synchronicity, that makes the moment even more than about the music. It is a shared event. It is wonderful.

Now, imagine that you live in a place where there is no community symphony. You still have all of your CDs and listening to them gives you pleasure but there is something about the lack of variance that begins to diminish your enjoyment. It's all so...predictable. Every swell and formata sounds exactly the same, time after time. It's been years since you've heard these works live and you are craving a concert.

Then, you notice on Facebook that there is an event right in your own small town: a Mozart Extravaganza! They are bringing in special musicians from out of town and performing one of your very favorite major works. You buy your ticket and anticipate a few hours of pure bliss. You know the musicans are amateurs and so the music won't be as polished and clean as you are used to hearing it from the professionally recorded CDs but the opportunity to hear it live is worth the trade off.

The day comes and you go to the concert.  You find your seat and even feel a bit giddy about what the next two hours will be like.  The curtain opens and....

all of the performers are middle school kids. There is a bit of panic as you have been to your fair share of middle school orchestra concerts and know how schreechy and painful it can be but this is a special event. Surely, only the most talented and prepared musicans have been selected to perform and it will be good, if not great. Then they begin and it is every bit as bad as you feared.  Out of tune. Slow. Totally uninspiring.

You stay an hour and then, disheartened, you get out of your seat for what your brain decides is a drink of water. In the hallway, you hear the music start back up and, rather than return to your seat, you leave.

Replace Mozart with Zumba and this is my story.

Why didn't I just tell it with Zumba as the passion to begin with? Because caring about the music of a century's old musical genius is understandable and caring about Zumba is silly. Caring about the quality of instructors is petty. It's just a form of exercise, right? It's just as fun following an out of shape 50 year-old woman with no rhythm as it is some gorgeous latina whose hips don't lie. For me...no, noit isn't. I felt like I was at the middle school Zumbathon!

It's been tough finding Zumba these past few years. There are probably half a dozen classes here in my small town but none has fit in with my schedule.  The times I can go are in places with no child care and the places with child care have their classes during my get-my-kids-to-their-things time. I bought a Zumba app on my ipad but I can't get into following an animated dancer. I have the videos but rarely do them because I don't like videos. The music is corny and the instructors say the exact same thing every time. Wah.

Back in my biggest loser days, there was a Zumba instructor I really enjoyed.  None of her routines were complicated but she could really dance and I think Zumba is most enjoyable when you are following a good dancer because then, in your own mind, that is what you look like dancing too and you leave feeling like a latin goddess. She no longer teaches and I've been to a few different instructors around town but it isn't the same. They move weird.

Such a snob, you say, and you are right. I've been fortunate enough to go to some really good classes up in Utah with Sarah and perhaps they spoiled me. There are these two instructors from South America and their Zumba routines are how every Zumba routine should be: fun, energetic and sassy. But, most importantly, they sell those routines with their abilities. I have participated in a booty war and I know I must have looked ridiculous but I didn't care because I was having so much fun.

Searching for that kind of atmosphere is what compelled me to attend this local Zumbathon today. I knew I wasn't in Utah and really wasn't expecting the routines to be at that level but I was expecting it to be better than it was. I think we did 10 or 11 routines in the first hour and, out of those, there were only 2 that didn't leave me wanting. Whether it was an instructor who couldn't stay on the beat or my own inability to just let loose and have fun anyway, I left after an hour. A straw was placed on my back when one instructor continuously, and I mean obnoxiously so, fanned herself because we were so "hot." Another straw came from all of the women who insisted on wearing jingly belly dancer scarves around their waists the entire time. But my camel's back was broken when we were expected to flap our arms like birds and fly around the room. I did go for that drink of water then and never came back.

I called Sarah from the parking lot because I knew she would best understand my deep disappointment. She understood and appropriately sympathized. When Jay when he asked me about it, I told him that becoming a Zumba instructor must be easy because there doesn't seem to be much quality control. I've heard that the Subway corporation doesn't regulate their franchises very much which can be frustrating to owners because their ease of opening can easily lead to oversaturation. It must be true because there are 4 Subways in my small town (and only one McDonalds). The Zumba CEO must have had a tete-a-tete with the Subway CEO because it seems some of these well meaning people simply shouldn't be teaching Zumba. Just because you enjoy something doesn't mean you will be able to sell it.

I meant this to be funny but I think it's too late to attach any wit to this long, tiresome day. After doing some dull physical therapy on my neck (my PT thinks my shoulder pain is stemming from a bulging disc and the labrum tear is kind of secondary) and trying to figure out why my new vacuum won't work and feeling stressed about taking away a certain son's electronics after he downloaded an app I said he couldn't have, I was really hoping for some fun. I thought Zumba at any level was better than no Zumba at all.  I was wrong.

Are You What You Are Or What?

Did you hear that Edie Brickell hit Paul Simon last week and their domestic dispute got them both arrested? I suppose I’ve thought about Paul Simon once or twice in the last few years as he has many hit songs that still get played here and there but I hadn’t thought about Edie Brickell since her big hit back in the early 90s. Her “What I Am” is quite catchy and her name resurfacing transferred her long ago hit into a bit of an ear worm this week. It was triggered again this morning when I miraculously managed to drop Seth off at his middle school before the morning bell and actually got to watch him walk up to a group of friends before driving off instead of hoping he’d pick up his gait to avoid yet another tardy.

Does it make me creepy that I wish I could spy on my children when they are away from me?  Seth recently turned 14 and there are so many things I love about this teenage stage but his new-for-me preoccupation with his friends and my limited ability to know who all these friends are and what they do and all the stuff that goes along with that takes up more space in my mind than I imagine is healthy. Sometimes, after visiting his Instagram page or clicking on the profile of his friends who like or comment on his pictures, I am left reeling. Teenage girls in bikinis for their profile pic. Drug references. Vulgarity. And they’re proudly showing it!

I’ve talked to him about social media standards and safety and what I expect from his end a few times but he’s a boy, nay, a teenage boy, and he seems to have inherited my aversion to talking about anything stressful so his ability to address my concerns vocally is kind of limited. What’s really interesting is right when I’m on the edge of total freaked-outness, a reassurance washes over me that he’s fine. All evidence points to him being a likable, friendly, funny boy who isn’t doing anything wrong. Do I wish he had a picture of a temple and some scriptural reference on his Instagram bio? Yes, yes, I do. But I need to acknowledge whatever comfort I’ve been given that he is who he tells me he is: a good boy.

Perhaps my cynicism or whatever negative emotion that causes the doubt comes from the knowledge of my own duplicity. I have days when I omit my lazy hours, binge sugar eating, toddler neglect or whatever less-than-proud behavior from the record. Those moments tend not to be reflected in the pictures that I take, conversations I engage in or recountings of our day that I give to Jay. In all honesty, when I used to blog more, I felt like there was a more accurate over-all picture of who and what I am. Now, I can kind of craft whatever image flatters me best.

Still, I know that my own online image isn’t false or made-up - only incomplete.  I suppose that is the root of the worry. What am I missing?  Most days, school and all that jazz consumes the bulk of my school-age children’s hours of the day. I don’t even think that schedule is odd or wrong. We are, after all, preparing these growing souls to eventually be independent enough to go away so it would be more weird to keep them by my side all day long. And yet...I wonder. What gets said in that group of friends whose circle he happily joins? Do his friends get the more real side of him or do we get it at home? Are the two sides even that different?

Oh, my goodness, I am out of practice thinking at this slow, blogger pace. I can’t remember what point I set out to make or why I felt like it was important enough to break the silence but I’m going to leave it as is. In conclusion, (my kids are learning how to wrap up an essay and I see this a lot in their writing) I worry too much. Edie warned me about that.

P.S. After much thought I decided that I’d rather blog publicly, stalker potential and all, than not blog privately. We’ll see. I’m hoping it’s not too late to try and write again.

Just One Time

It makes me incredibly sad that I don’t blog anymore. Even more sad, I don’t even think about it daily anymore. Every so often, I will compose or organize thoughts in my head like I used to in a sort of pre-blog-prep but it doesn’t get typed and, just like any habit, it is weakening to the point of death. I think, “I’ll just make it public again,” as if that is the reason I no longer blog. I don’t think that’s the reason, exactly, although I do think it contributes, but I can’t really resolve that decision with the one that made me go private in the first place: to keep my kids safe against what I perceived as a cyber threat.

But, I have one day left in February and I’ve never, in 7 years of blogging, had an entire month go by without a number in a parenthesis beside it. So, here are a few things I’ve been thinking about recently. They aren’t necessarily light or deep or well thought out.


1. I really dislike parenting. I totally get the horror of the statement and the blasphemy against my most sacred calling, motherhood, but it’s the truth. I like my kids. I love them as humans and as part of my family and as little people learning and as future adults and I get the responsibility of what I do so I do it but it is so heavy. The constant stress of my most menial tasks in keeping them alive and happy combined with the heavy burden of teaching them to have faith and to understand the great Plan of Salvation and their role in it is often more than I want or think I am capable of doing well. Honestly, I have had this conversation with several people now, but it has really made me question whether I am capable of celestial glory if parenting, and dealing with “children” for eternity is what is my potential future. I might make a better ministering angel. I don’t know. I obviously don’t have all the light and knowledge but having billions of spirit children and having all of them have major issues to deal with seems above my eternal skill level. This obviously deserves a bit more than a paragraph and maybe I’ll come back and address it in fuller thought and reason in the future but it’s been on my mind a lot lately so I thought I’d jot it down.

2. For the past two years, I have used Instagram as pure social media. I hated how bloated Facebook became so I didn’t seek out acquaintances (i.e. high school classmates, local people I see every once in a while or even former cyber friends that I have distanced myself from) via Instagram and tried to keep it to people who actually interacted with me. That hasn’t always worked and I probably need to get rid of a few more “friends” because I really dislike feeling irritated by such an optional and supposedly social activity. What I really didn’t understand was following people I didn’t know. I am not on Twitter and can’t/don’t/don’t want to see the lure of being bombarded with messages or paraphernalia from more famous people. Then I started following 2 artists whose art spoke to me. I didn’t know them but I wanted to see their pictures. Then I started following BOM365 which is an account that posts some scriptures everyday and then asks a question or two about the verses read and then people comment and it’s like being in a good gospel doctrine class every day. I really enjoy it (minus the comments written by people who overuse the all caps feature. It’s effective every once in a while but when you start using it ALL the TIME IT GETS OLD. Plus, I feel like they are yelling at me even though I know they are trying to use emphasis. I try to be forgiving). Then, I found some accounts where people post pics and recipes of their clean meals and since this is my greatest desire this year - to find a way to eat that helps me lose this gross weight - I am willing to put up with their non-food pics too. I also started following a woman who has lost 100 pounds in one year. Is it odd how much stress I feel being one of many followers to someone I do not know? It feels like idol worship. It seems so silly but I hate being a fan of anything but particularly of anybody. So, I choose to think of it as discovering interesting information and hopefully the shame will lessen.

3. That’s all I have right now. Jay just got home and Daniel is messy and my brain just went “POOF!” (yes in all caps. It was that dramatic). So, here you go, February. One post. Oh…wait. I am learning Spanish! How’s that for new and exciting? I do prefer the french language but I just started with this Duolingo App on my phone and it makes me feel productive when I’m sitting in a car and use my phone to pass the time. Yeah…that’s all I got. I’ll leave you with this sentence in spanish. Yo no corro entre enero y dieciembre. Ha ha. Maybe my new instagram “friends” will change that.

12 for 12 - June 2013

1. Seth is thrilled about leaving for the stake deacon encampment for the week (actually, he is happy to go. He is just too cool to smile)

2. There they go! See you on Saturday. Good luck Jay and Seth! (There are some very odd boys to deal with)

3.  Left over birthday cake for breakfast.  I figure it's about as healthy as a muffin.  Sam added a few chips as well.  Healthy, healthy!

4. Last summer, I joked with my sisters about my over-reliance on the self described polygamous bang roll. This year, my hair is long enough for a side braid, which I am now over-doing.  I hate blow drying my hair in the summer!

5. I have been looking for a used Toyota Sequoia for about 2 years. There is one at a local used lot and I spent hours on the computer looking and comparing it to others.  I don't know! So much anxiety when buying a car.

6. I thought about 100 different times during the day, "I need to get Daniel a hair cut!" 

7. We drove to Farmington for a Sam's Club run.

8. Well...if I'm down there I'm going to have a delicious sweet pork salad.

9.  Most annoying part of the day.  Some steer chute thingamajig shipped for Jay who was, of course, gone and the semi didn't fit up the driveway and the driver was an idiot who just kept saying, "I don't know how to get this up to your house if you don't have a truck," so in 3 separate drives with all the back minivan seats removed, I got it up to the house and had Sam help me unload it all.  The driver of the semi just sat in his truck.  Grrrr.

10.  Garbage day isn't until Friday! I call this garbage debt and it stresses me out!

11.  Sat in the hot tub by myself once all the boys were in bed.  With just me, I only use one side and kept half of the cover on.

12.  My cracked heels are as bad as they have ever been and wearing flip flops makes them so much worse so I've tried to be diligent about applying ointment and wearing my heel booties every night when I sleep.  So attractive.

Not a very exciting day but I guess that's the point? Capturing the everyday - heel booties and all.  

Monday Musings

I can't think of a single thing in my life/house/calling that doesn't need attention. Everything needs to be done. The whole house could use a big ol' decluttering and spring cleaning. My church bag overwhelms me and is so disorganized with visual aids for various songs stuffed in and my newly acquired laminator sits on the counter, unopened, because I haven't found the time or energy to figure out how to use it. My children have yearbook orderforms and buy-one-get-one-free bookfairs slips to fill out and the yard...oh my goodness. I thought this was my year with Daniel loving being outside and all, to finally get outside and have flowers and less weeds. I might get some of this stuff done if I had any free time but I have convinced myself that I do not so it all remains in the pressure cooker of my brain....ready to explode at any minute.

Except, I do have moments of free time. They are just so random and in such small chunks that I waste them playing some dumb game like bejeweled blitz on my phone instead of spending those 20 minutes on my closet or pantry or dirt encrusted windows. While I sat for the first time of the day thinking, "my kids will be home in 30 minutes" while mindlessly arranging orange and blue and yellow "gems" into groups of 3, I thought, "This is when you should blog." I played for a few more minutes because how can I organize all of....this....into something that is readable and then decided that was setting the bar too high. This is going to be pure stream of consciousness.

One thing that has kept me busier than usual is that I am co-head of the elementary school talent show. It isn't really a big deal except for the time it takes to get it organized. Friday, the other mom in charge and I spent 3 hours at the school listening to auditions and talking about what the show will be like this year. We only had 16 acts and all of them prepared enough to accept so we decided to make it fun for the kids and post a list rather than simply announcing on afternoon announcements that all who auditioned made it. The principle thought it was a little bit cruel to send the kids home for the weekend without knowing but we thought it'd be fun for them to come to school Monday morning, see their name on a big, glittery list, and proudly walk around the halls all day as a reward for their courage and talent.

Well...that was the ideal. The less than ideal is leaving a 3rd grader off the list! It was completely my fault although I will place part of the blame on my co-chair as her notes were jumbled and hard to read and his name was easy to miss.  But, his name was on there and I made final list and so when the teacher emailed us and said, "What the heck?!" as the poor boy was distraught at not making the talent show, I had to bust a move to fix the list, drive out there, repost and send a personal note of apology to the boy (who had a GREAT talent, by the way) that I was sorry. Little things like that can send my day into a tailspin. Thankfully, Jay is home today so I was able to fix it without having to wake Daniel up from his nap and deal with a grouchy, under rested toddler for the rest of the day.

Mother's Day is also floating around in my head. My cleaners came this morning and asked the expected, "How was your mother's day?" question to which I replied, "It was ok." Because it was. But, it wasn't the day that apparently gets posted about on Instagram and Facebook.

I don't know how I feel about Mother's Day. I think the naysayers who say it is a purely Hallmark creation and has no place at church are wrong. As a church who believes families are essential to the plan of salvation and motherhood a divine institution, I think it not only belongs in sacrament meeting but should probably not be limited to a once-a-year event. I understand their grievances, even if I feel like they have become trite and overused. Yes, speakers can sometimes wax nostalgic and emotional about their own specific mothers or wives and I agree that those kinds of talks might not be especially suited for Sacrament Meeting. But, they do have their place. Perhaps the speakers aren't fantastic at intellectualizing their thoughts and experiences and extending their memories or stories to serve as a teaching tool or warning. Like talks every week, I believe it is mostly our experience to take something away from the prepared messages. The bitter I'm-not-going-to-church-on-mother's-day excuse is pride in disguise. You're infertile? You have a horrible relationship with your mother? Your child no longer comes to church? Your husband left you? You resent motherhood? You didn't get breakfast in bed? The common denominator in every one of those phrases is "you" and therein is both the problem and the solution. Just take back the day. Be grateful to be a mother or for your mother or for the beautiful babies that depend on mothers risking their health and bodies to exist, whether that is a child of a friend or a niece or some gorgeous brown eyed creation you flirted with in Guatemala years ago.

As for all of the hoopla and brag fests, I admit it is hard not to be jealous. Past experience has taught me the simple rule to keep expectations low and to truly concentrate on being a mother and not thinking the day means I don't have to mother. My husband is great but he went and fed cows in the morning while I made cinnamon rolls and eggs and bacon for the bread intolerant. I had to leave the house early to fulfill some volunteer duties for the dumb local soccer tournament held in town over the weekend which required my purchasing some ice at Walmart. Then, I had to set up my singing time and get my visual aids in order (see note above about their state in my bag) for the mother's day medley in sacrament meeting. When we got home, the boys came out of the bedroom with gifts including some hideous crocs (they are orange and blue and white so in addition to being ugly because they are crocs, they are particularly nasty.  But, it was a funny joke gift from Jay because I always steel his black crocs to wear in the mornings), two books (The Great Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye) for my personal library and a really cool leather bracelet.  Henry made me a sweet homemade card at school and a beautiful hand painted picture with a poem in art.  Thank goodness for elementary schools helping mothers everywhere receive priceless gifts!  After that was all done, we went to Vaughn and Patty's house for dinner and even though it was great not to cook, we stayed a lot longer than I imagined we would waiting for their missionary son's phone call. I had that brief moment of, "I'm not going to get to take a nap/blog/go for a walk" mental whine and then got over it. I played with Daniel outside, let him cover himself with dirt in their garden, and then, once home, got him bathed and in bed. By this time, it was close to 8 pm and Seth asked me if I had any desire to rekindle my scrapbook hobby. This weird request meant he had an enormous Language Arts project due that involved making a scrapbook about a historical figure and I spent the next 3 hours helping him with that, trying my very best not to be resentful.

So, when the cleaners asked me how my mother's day went, I responded, "It was o.k" which it was. Then I got a lecture about how I need to train them all to cook for me and clean up and how to shop for what I wanted and blah-de-blah-blah-blah-blah and so...yeah, I don't quite know what to think about Mother's Day.  I know I love being a Mother, even though it is hard and not really what I'm best at, and i know that I love my mother and I know that God loves mothers and I know that we have been commanded to honor mothers so...I guess I'm a fan of Mother's Day. I just want everyone else to stop being so gloaty or depressed about it. That's all. :)

Well...time's up. I hope this time was better spent than seeing if I can beat my score of 688,700 (I play WAY too much). Maybe some pictures next time!

Finding Me-time...I Guess

It's been way too busy around here. I absolutely hate it when days start at 6 am and don't really end until 10 pm - even if some of the stuff keeping me up late is fun. I still start to wear down if I don't get recharge time. A lot of these should have been posts of their own but that is not happening. This weary wave has swamped me but besides all of the regular mom hubabaloo, a few activities took me out of my mom zone and really made me stretch outside of my norm. 

• I have started attending a committee at my kids elementary school named SAC - School Advisory Committee. Essentially, it's the principle and a representative from the school district, a member of the community who doesn't and hasn't had a child enrolled in this school and a bunch of parent members. The principle called me a few months ago to ask me to join this committee and a mixture of guilt from not volunteering these past two school years and genuine concern about what the curriculum, safety and staffing issues are at our school led to my saying, "yes." At our last meeting, the superintendent also attended because of a critical decision to be made about staffing and the budget. The first grade (Henry's grade) currently is divided into two classes with class sizes of 13 and 14. I probably don't have to say that it's been a dream come true for their teachers. They already know of one first grader moving away during the summer and the question at what number of students does the class recombine into one was given to us. As I mentioned earlier, I haven't been in the classrooms these past two years so I don't know this class all that well but many of the parents in attendance said it was a particularly challenging class behavior wise and thought it best if they stay split into two small classes. Obviously, it'd be great if every teacher and child could be in a class of 13 students but I had a feeling the superintendent was there because we don't live in la-la land and actual compromises need to be made. When I asked what the "but" was, like was it two classes but no music or two classes but no art, neither the principle or superintendent gave much away but I don't think there's a school in the US that has budget money to burn. So, I spoke up. Just as a parent on the committee. I said that 26 still seemed like a big number of second graders, especially if there are multiple behavior issues but something happens when that number dips below 25. It seems silly that there is a difference in my brain between 27 and 24 but class sizes of 12, when other schools in this very town have class sizes of 29, seems indulgent. When I said that number "24" the principle wrote it down, circled it, and then the superintendent reviewed that 24 seemed to be the number we would consider combining the class.  It all kind of happened fast and I wanted someone else to speak up but no one else did so...there you have it. One mom was definitely shooting me daggers and she's probably been on the committee for years and some no-show nobody comes and starts opening her big mouth but, for real, if I am going to be at a meeting at 7:30 and have my mother-in-law watch Daniel for me in order to go, I'm going to give my opinion! 

• I went to my book club last Thursday night and was dreading it because, once again, I didn't like the book that was chosen. OK. You know me. I like to talk about books. I am not going to say, "I liked it," or, "I didn't like it," and be done. No, no, no, no, no, no. But, it seems for the past few months in a row, I haven't liked the book and have made it know why not. When it was clear that I was not going to have an overall positive experience reading this month's choice, The Age of Miracles, I considered not going. I did go but felt determined to avoid giving my opinion unless asked and then, maybe, only a shoulder shrug and a, "It was ok," keeping me somewhat honest. What a relief when the person who picked the book declared at the very onset of dinner, "I hated this book!" That got the juices flowing and pretty much everyone admitted that they disliked it. I didn't even have to say anything. Even so, I clearly have a reputation because the hostess announced, "When I realized it was an awful book, I thought, Oh great, what is Lucy going to say about this one?" I may need to tone down my book club opinions. Sheepish grin. 

• I went to a Bach festival concert with a relatively new friend. I'm always surprised when someone calls me up and invites me to something. I don't know this woman very well but I like her and we kind of musically bonded at Christmas time when I helped her put on a combined ward Christmas program. When she asked me if I wanted to attend the Goldberg Variations concert, I said sure, but didn't really plan on it until she called again the night before making sure we were still going. I made arrangements to meet her there fully expecting a big group to be there because why would she single me out? Turns out, she did single me out and I had a wonderful time listening to the guest lecturer explain the history of the piece and its remarkable points, listening to a fabulous organ performance and then sipping some hot cocoa afterward at a local coffee shop. It was all very enjoyable and I'm glad I have a new friend!

• I put on a ward fireside about my trip to Israel on the Tuesday night before Easter. Even though I blogged extensively about it, I felt like I had to start from scratch because I wanted the focus to be on Christ and so I spent quite a bit of time organizing pictures in chronological order of Christ's life and making sure I had all my facts straight. Patty and Karen graciously provided refreshments a la Holy Land (hummus, fresh dipping veggies, oranges, pita bread and dates). In attendance were Patty and Vaughn, Karen and Vaughn, two other couples, my good friend, Michelle and her daughter, my niece, Delanie, and a single sister. I felt bad that what could have been done easily and more comfortably at my house, especially considering almost half in attendance were family members, was in a relief society room instead. I struggled to filter all the information in my head and make it spiritual and relevant and definitely veered off focus at times.  I also went a half hour longer than I planned. My take away is that I'm not much of the fireside giving sort. 

• I must have serious non-volunteer guilt because I offered my services to the middle school PTO when they needed someone to go to the grocery store and pick up food for the teacher's lounge during parent/teacher conferences. I always get all the emails because I must have signed it on some piece of paper at the beginning of Seth's sixth grade year but I have never done anything for this organization nor have I ever attended a single meeting. Some faulty wiring in my brain made me shoot off a reply on my iphone, "I can!"before I really thought things through and my rash eagerness meant I got to shop at Walmart on a Thursday at noontime which might just be the absolute worst time to grocery shop. I suppose Black Friday or the day before Thanksgiving might be worse but I am smart enough to stay away during those notorious times. I have no idea what caused such a backlog of carts at the check-out that day but it took a full 30 minutes of standing in line before I even got my stuff on the conveyer belt. Then, when everything was wrung up and in the bags and in my cart, I gave the checker the middle school credit card and Tax ID card and she said, "Oh, I needed this before I rang anything up. I'll have to re check everything." Before my polite self could regain composure, I lamented loudly, "I hate shopping here!!!!" The checker looked a little started but not apologetic as she slowly started taking things out of the bags and rechecking everything. Painful, painful and painful and a good reminder that I am not in a volunteering season of life. And I am already in Walmart too much as it is. 

• I played the organ as part of a musical duet on Easter Sunday. Even though it is not really my responsibility at all, as ward choir director who did not have a choir number prepared I promised a special musical number to the ward music chair. By the time I actually got around to doing something, only one week remained to prepare and not many people are comfortable with that sort of timeline when performing music. That left me doing something but people are sick of me so I asked a really talented woman in the ward who plays viola if she could come up with something Easter-y. She called me the next day with an idea of a He Is Risen/Christ the Lord is Risen Today mashup for viola and organ. That meant that the ward was not going to get a Lucy-free musical number but it didn't feel fair to make someone else learn an organ part in five days. We met at the church a few times and I realized that this little something she came up with was something she had just written. Like on Monday. Not only had she just written it, but she kept changing it and fixing parts that didn't work so by the time we rehearsed on Friday, it was pretty amazing. I was figuring out the organ stops and how to switch between memory sets quickly because there were no free hands during one transition. That meant...duh,duh,duh...I had to use my foot! I know, I know...organists are supposed to know how to use their feet but I don't. My brain freaks out if I even try. I would love to learn how to play the organ properly but, for now, the bass coupler is my best organ friend. Still, with the right stops, it sounded really cool. The first part had only the bell stop pulled and it sounded like those church bells that play when Maria marries Captain Von Trapp. It was a really fun musical number to play. 

• I would never classify myself as hard-to-please but my past hair care history would beg to differ. I am perpetually unhappy with whomever I pay to do my hair. Every once in a while, I will find someone I really like who also happens to make my hair look nice but it usually seems like it's one or the other. Or someone moves. Or I move. Whatever happens, I seem to constantly be on the prowl for a new hair person. I tried someone new today. It was a total blind date. I found a place online that seemed reputable and essentially booked an appointment with the first stylist who could get me in. It didn't go so well for me. I suppose the hair looks ok but she. took. for. ever! I'm sorry, but a mama with a one year old doesn't have time for slow highlights. This lady really seemed fresh out of beauty school because she could never manage to get the right amount of hair for the foil the first time. Which meant, by the time I was done, I had gone almost an hour longer than I told my mother-in-law, who had Daniel and a sick Seth, and Sam and Henry were home alone for much longer than the 15 minutes I promised they'd have to wing it when they got off the bus. Let's just say that I am still on the prowl. Sigh. 

• I finally called my former trainer to get some help remembering how to do something other than drive in my van and shop at Walmart:) I'm nervous. And it was hard to make that call. 

Well...that's about it. We just got back from another night out, this time having dinner at the church to support the Young Women fundraiser. Last year at this time, as Young Women's President,  I was pretty much in charge of this event and it was so nice to go, load up my plate with a navajo taco, sit, visit and eat.  And then...I got to leave! 

Tomorrow, I'm packing up for my in-law's 50th wedding celebration up in Utah with all of Jay's family and then leaving on Friday. Then...spring break. Then, Seth's birthday. And, in a blink, it's going to be the middle of April. Crazy. 

Life is certainly not slowing down. Being available for my boys and making their lives happen takes up the vast majority of my time but I wanted to spend a few minutes writing to remind myself that it isn't all about them. I have had opportunities these past few weeks to take off my mom sneakers and step into some less comfortable but a little more bedazzled Lucy shoes and I'm glad both shoes fit. 

Five For Friday

1.  Jay and Seth are going on a boy scout Klondike campout tonight.  With our -15 degree overnight low temps of late, it is a relief that the expected low is only supposed to be 7 degrees while they camp.  Jay is nervous as scoutmaster that the boys he doesn't have control over, in other words, everyone else besides Seth, will be underprepared for the conditions.  I don't envy him his task or his chilly environment.

Ready before school this morning.  Jay is going to pick him up and off they'll go!

One of the challenges of the camp, besides staying warm, is a sort of Iron Chef Cook Off.  They have 50 minutes to present a meal to the judges with three components.  The meal must include something pickled, and the ingredients lime and cilantro.  Exactly the kind of things you'd think boyscout aged boys would enjoy eating, right?  Crazy enough, we found a couple of recipes that just might be good, depending on how adventuresome your tastebuds are.  For the pickled food, we found a pickled pulled beef sandwich on Paula Dean's website.  Those southerners sure think of some odd ways to prepare food.  Simple enough, all Jay needed was a 2 pound chuck roast and a 24 oz jar of dill pickle spears.  Dump the pickles with juice onto the roast, crockpot on low for at least 12 hours, add some pepper, shred and....voila: pulled pickled beef.  His troop is going to top it with a cilantro and lime coleslaw and serve it on a hamburger bun.  Neat.

I hope it tastes better than it smells

Jay considered cooking it overnight up there with a dutch oven, but neither of us have ever used one and he is already taking a large camp stove we purchased for the pioneer Trek a few years back, so, for sake of ease and making sure the meat was actually cooked, he cooked it in the crockpot, here in the house, and plans to reheat it on the campstove.  All perfectly legal but I woke up nauseated by the pungent smell of cooked pickles on beef!  It's a good thing I am not pregnant because this is the kind of smell that would have sent me hurling.  The website warned us as much (look at the bottom of the recipe) so we set the crockpot in the sunroom, thinking that would be far enough away from where we usually are that the smell wouldn't be too bad.  As luck would have it, Jay can't smell a thing!  It's like his olfactory glands don't pick up this particular scent of nasty.  Unfair but it'll all be over soon enough.  If only it would have been the coleslaw that needed to be pre-prepared.  That looks tasty!

2.  It seems like a chocolate protein shake would be right up my alley for meal replacements.  Sometimes, if its cold enough and I'm feeling motivated to be skinny enough, it is.  But, I think I like to chew too much.  I miss chewing if too many smoothie type beverages are in the lineup.  Today, I was a little disturbed when I opened my pantry cupboard to pull down the Jay Robb Egg White Protein mix and see this man staring back at me.  I get that he's ripped and he's probably trying to associate his physique with his miraculous brand of powder, but, if you're going to be showing off a bare chest, you better be at the beach or post workout.  Just posing in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt is sending me mixed messages.  Messages like, "I'm a creepy guy and you shouldn't buy my product!"

The cross...the shirt....the body oil...the goatee.  It's just not my thing. 

3.  I just got back from a soda run and noticed I am wearing my pants inside out.  That isn't good.

4.  For the past three months, our primary chorister has been very hit and miss.  At least twice a month, I have had to step in at the last minute and do an impromptu singing time.  If it was a sharing time, I'd have anxiety ulcers by now but I'm much more comfortable leading a singing activity on the spot.  Unfortunately for the kids in our primary, those off the cuff singing sessions don't come with any primary glamour, namely laminated visuals.  Truth be told, even with advanced warning, the likelihood of me bearing cricut produced good is very low.  If it can't be done on the chalkboard, it's probably above my artistic level.

Well, primary chorister has been released and new primary chorister has yet to be called so I am also officially the interim primary chorister until further notice.  The song of the month is "I Am A Child of God" and most of the kids know the first verse well enough but if I were a gambling woman, I'd bet against most of them knowing the other three verses.  So, here's my idea using a crazy combination of three oft-used primary games.  I am going to sit the children in a circle.  Following the format of the game Hot Potato, they will pass around an actual potato while singing (or listening to)  the various verses of I Am a Child of God.   Before the song begins,  one participant will roll a number die.  Whichever number faces up is the number of words in order the person holding the potato when the music stops will need to produce.  In a twist of the game "Hangman", I will bring a Mr. Potato Head and if whomever's turn it is to deliver the next few words can't successfully remember, parts of Mr. Potato Head will come off.  The last piece will be his mouth.  I'm calling the game, "Don't Let Mr. Potato Head Lose His Voice!"  We'll keep repeating a verse until he either loses his voice or I decide everyone knows it well enough to move on to another verse.  Too confusing?  Too many games going on?  I'm a believer in musical repetition being a great memory device and if you can trick kids into forgetting how often they are singing the exact same song, the words get into their head.  I write this all out because I've been burned before.  Sometimes, an idea I think is great or even just plausible, will go very badly.  If something doesn't make sense or you can imagine  this entire game going down in a ball of bored singers' flames, please speak (comment) up!  I've still got a day for adjustments or an entirely new idea.

His mouth would be the last to go.  He even looks like he's singing!

5.  I leave one week from today for Israel!!!!!

Let's hope there's none of this:

No missles!  No need to use the Iron Dome!

And lots of this:



Not promising an exact recreation of pose or outfit, but I'll try.

12 of 12 For Dummies

For years, I have watched my photography blessed friends create these 12 of 12 photo frames on the 12th of every month.  In particular, my good friend, Amy Gretchen, encourages bloggers everywhere to capture their every day and share it through photography.  Of course, it all looks more beautiful when you are as gifted an artist as she is, but I also think there is beauty in the idea of a collage of snapshots.  It's not like there is a reason for taking a picture or an occasion to document.  Just...life.

I have not participated in the past because I haven't been able to figure out how to display my photos in the appropriate frame.  Amy gives detailed instructions on her blog using Adobe Photoshop and I used to own Elements but now use a Mac and haven't purchased new software (I never really knew how to use it anyways) and tried to follow her technical writing. Unfortunately,  I'm more of a visual learner.  Actually, I'm more of a can-you-sit-by-my-side-and-walk-me-through-it type learner.  Needless to say, I still haven't figured out how to do it.

I am not to be deterred by my ineptitude this year, however.  Twelve pictures are twelve pictures and it is the twelfth of January and I'm going to participate, albeit in my own, rudimentary way.  Here is my 12 of 12...Lucy style.

The day begins with video games.  After going, going, going all week long, I'm kind of a pushover on Saturday mornings and I woke up to find Sam playing NCAA football.  Piano practice and chores still got done.  Only later.

Daniel's new funny face.  He furrows his brow and looks very inquisitive.  I think he's trying to be funny because he always breaks out into a smile afterward.

The boys laundry.  I put Daniel's away, but make the boys put away their own clothes, even though it usually means clean clothes on the floor for Seth and Henry.  Sam always puts his away.  

I think I've got Henry junior on my hands.  This is what Daniel got into while I wasn't paying attention.  

Once I started picking up, I couldn't stop.  I love a clean kitchen.

Running loose in Office Depot while I made copies of new music to learn in ward choir tomorrow.  I never did get him dressed today.  The other boys went skiing and we stayed warm and comfy.

Yuck.  An evil necessity of my life.

Chinese food for dinner.

Jay, overtired from skiing while sick, follows through on his promise to help Henry build his paper ship he got for his birthday.

Snuggling before bed.  This is the only bottle he gets now and he relishes it.  Yeah...didn't do the hair today. 

Watched this with the boys

Tried to keep warm.  It's below zero now.

Some Busy December Therapy

It's snowing! Yay! Except, now the driveway needs to be shoveled and I remember that I don't have four-wheel drive and have to go down a steep, windy hill in order to get to town and my main occupation as a mother of four is to drive little people around.  So....snow.  Yay.  

Seth can't be bothered with warm things like pants and coats.  It would cover up the awesome Nike Elite socks he is so proud of and he might not be able to "air shoot" a basketball in restricting pants.  Must have baggy basketball shorts on for that, even if there is almost six inches of snow outside now.  Oh, to be in 7th grade.

I have done absolutely nothing this week.  As I type, I am sitting at my broken iMac (Henry broke the commuter...surprise, surprise) in my winter nightshirt and slippers.  I know this is because I have my busiest weekend ever coming up, not to mention the week following that includes our anniversary, Daniel's first birthday, the arrival of my sister for the holidays, the 4-H club Christmas party, and all of the presents to organize and wrap.  This weekend, I have to bring gluten-free offerings to the ward Christmas party, play the piano at the party, make program copies for the Sunday music fireside (this program has taken me hours and hours to make as I have never done anything on Pages and it was not nearly as intuitive as Steve Jobs thought it was), have our primary program (I am no longer YW president.  I kept intending to write a long-winded post about how that ended and now I am in the primary presidency and ward choir director but it has never happened so....I am in the primary presidency and ward choir director!) bring homemade lunchables for primary activity/sharing time following program, have a short choir practice following church to run through music with new accompanist, flute player and violin before the evening performance.  Bring cookies for fireside refreshments.  Play for string ensemble.  Sing a solo.  When my brain is full of these kinds of to-dos, I almost shut-down in the days before hand.  I think it's a coping mechanism because I am not one of those people who thrives on being busy.  I can get it all done but not without some major meditation in advance.

Messy house.  Pajamas.  In real time:)

It just....fell over. Onto the floor.  While Henry was playing Angry Birds. 

Daniel is kind of walking.  He initiates walking all day long but still hasn't mastered it as a mode of transportation.  He has figured out stairs, both going up and coming down on his belly, feet first, so there really isn't anywhere he can't go.  This means there are lots and lots of messes everywhere now, instead of just downstairs.

I am not going to be on Facebook for two weeks.  It is my cooling off period because after all of the election posting, from BOTH sides, which I suffered through (everyone has a right to their opinion, after all) even though all of the "You're wrong!" tied me up in knots, now I am being tortured by posts featuring both those intending to wear pants because a woman has yet to pray in general conference and those who can't imagine anyone could ever feel unequal in a pretty dress.  Can I just say that I wish I were a man right now?  Not because they have the priesthood and not because they get to pray all the live long day in general conference but because women are crazy.  And kind of mean.  I really wish I could just stay home this Sunday and not have to wear or not wear pants but it's the primary program and fireside.  I'm a victim!

Seth and Sam had a piano duet recital last Saturday.  I am a vocal advocate of piano recitals.  In my opinion, they are the games to practice and the tests to homework.  It's a means to measure progress under pressure.  Huge fan!  But, I am not a huge fan of overlong recitals.  The boys' piano teacher has participated in a few area-wide piano recitals lately and while I can understand the theory behind it (combining all of the students from seven different teachers.  You get a larger audience, a wider variety of music and ability) I don't think any non-professional or very good semi-professional production needs an intermission.  It was an hour and a half long.  An hour and a half...in a concert hall....with Daniel and Henry.  Hell!  And this was as long as Seth and Sam's number was.  It was too easy for both of them and so it actually got messier the more they played it because they kept going too fast.  Duets are a challenge!  Anyways, as I obviously have no backbone when it comes to speaking with the piano teacher, this may go as another unreported grievance.  Although, I may say this one out loud because it's not against her personally.  Maybe.

So much other stuff to say but I'll stop here.  Life's good.  Expensive....but good.  I'll post again soon.  This was very therapeutic.

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly...In Reverse Order

I am super grumpy tonight. I know it's the month of November and all and everyone is dedicated to writing lists and paragraphs of gratitude but I'm not feeling it. Hopefully I will soon. In a week would be perfect. In the meantime, somethings aren't going so well.

The Ugly:

Daniel has another diaper rash. When I look back on his first year, I fear my main memory will be dealing with his near constant diaper rashes. He's been actively teething for about 8 months and when he teeths, he has diarrhea. When he's sick, he has diarrhea.  And, I'm starting to think, when he's perfectly healthy, he has diarrhea.  At least something close to it.  When he has diarrhea, he gets a diaper rash. It happens so frequently and even noiselessly, it's hard to keep him dry. It's very bad today and I think I've used a half tube of the Butt Balm Max. I know the very best treatment is air so I kept him naked for almost an hour tonight. Even though I tried to keep him on the hard floors,  he managed to pee on me once and later, pooped on the carpet. Yay. I apologize for writing about bodily functions but I'm just so exasperated. I obviously feel for the little guy but he's seriously had five dirty diapers since three o'clock.  Enough!  Please...enough.  

I had a very lame passive aggressive episode today.  Shamefully, I have nearly nonexistent conflict resolution skills.  I consider it a disability and would consider either a class or therapy to help me be better.  In the meantime, I deal with situations not to my liking in the worst and weakest way.  Take this afternoon, for instance.  My boys' piano teacher is a very laid-back and flexible woman.  On top of those qualities, she is a skilled piano teacher who knows what she's doing.  The flexibility is nice and I readily admit that she is almost always willing to move a lesson time when she can to accommodate different sports practice times, company or whatever thing happens to get in the way.  Currently, I am there two different days of the week because neither she nor I have a solid hour that works for both Seth and Sam as well as us.  With that preface about her much appreciated flexibility, she is also overly laid-back.  Most of the time, I don't let this bug me.  I even try to admire her style.  My kids call her by her first name (I can't imagine calling any of my former piano teachers by their first names!), her two young children are usually present during lesson times (which can be distracting to her but they also give my own kids playmates and toys for the half-hour or hour we are there) and she is never, ever mean.  Even if my boys have awful lessons.  A true "yay!"  However, that very laxness can create havoc when she doesn't pay attention to the time.  I often say my life would be a lot smoother if all the coaches, leaders, teachers and therapists we deal with could simply start and end their things on time.  No special considerations.  No favors.  Just stick to the schedule!  For the past several weeks, our piano teacher has started Sam's lesson fifteen minutes late.  When a lesson is only scheduled for thirty minutes, fifteen minutes is a big deal.  Yes, she tries to compensate by keeping Sam past his scheduled allotment but the next mom and her child has arrived by then and I can't deal with the guilt that they might think we are somehow to blame for keeping them from starting on time.  I've even shortchanged our own lesson occasionally to help her get back on schedule because I usually have somewhere else I need to be - thus the reason I have the piano lesson arranged for that specific half-hour.   It happened again today.   We are there, on time at 4:30, waiting with standing room only in her small living room along with another dad, the piano teacher's own two children, an electrician in the room fixing a fan and said piano teacher and 4:00 student at the piano.  It was chaotic.  At 4:42, when she said to her student at the piano, "O.K.  That was good but this time I want you to play it....." I got up with Daniel, told Sam and Henry we had to go and walked out without a word.  She has called my house three times tonight and I haven't picked up the phone.  Because I am that lame.  I'm not ready for the confrontation.  For my sanity's sake, just start the *(%$!* lesson on time!  I'm so ashamed (and annoyed).  Sob!

The Bad:

Jay and I went to see Skyfall last night.  We went to the 9:20pm showing and maybe that late time gave the theater the impression that their customers were more laissez-faire than, say, matinee show times, but during the previews, instead of the expected green screen announcing the following preview is appropriate for all audiences (which they rarely are anyways), a red screen instead displayed the warning that the following preview contained explicit images.  What the?   Quentin Tarantino then appeared on screen and invited us movie-watchers to enjoy his western gore-fest movie preview to be released on Christmas. What immediately followed was the most horrific and gratuitous violence I have never wanted to see.  It was awful.  Exactly the kind of movie I would never, ever, ever pay to watch.  I remind you that this was at a PG-13 movie.  Has this ever happened to you?  I am writing a letter to the president or powers that be at Allen Movie Theaters and seriously considering never going to a movie there again.  I don't enjoy them that much anyway.  I mainly go to do something easy and relaxing with Jay.  I hope this isn't a new envelope-pushing trend.  There was no time to escape and I shouldn't have to leave my seat in a theater to avoid watching an R-rated preview before a PG-13 movie.  It kind of ruined the actual movie for me.  Everyone keeps saying they liked Skyfall and I liked Adele's opening credits song but the movie....meh.  

I went to a wedding reception this weekend for a couple I did not know.  I know the mother of the groom fairly well and the groom's youngest sister was one of my young women, so, being supportive, I bought a gift, wrapped it in pretty paper, tied it with trendy lime green ribbon and wrote a rather verbose card to the new couple.  I don't know what came over me.  A "congratulations!" would have been sufficient but I had to explain our love of pancakes and how they bring us to the table together and how I hoped they had many years of pancake making ahead of them to enjoy."  As we nibbled on our cheesecake and cookies at one of the tables, I found myself sitting next to the bride's family.  They were pleasant people and I was being affable myself and eventually the bride came to sit next to her mother for a bit of refreshment.  I started chatting her up and asked her how she and her husband met.  Of course, I did not say the words, "Your husband," because that would have been too stuffy and I was trying to be super-friendly-Lucy so I used his first name.  She looked a little confused and said, "Josh?"  With her blank stare wonder, I did a mental rewind and remembered the name on the invitation. The name of the groom was Jake.  Jake!  His brother, who just got home from a mission and who I also do not know is named Josh.  And not only did I say, "Josh" to the bride but I am about 99% certain that in my long-winded congratulatory wedding card, I wrote, "Josh."  Next time, I'm sticking with Mr. and Mrs.  Newlyweds like seeing that better anyway.

In another embarrassing moment of name butchering, last week, I asked a mother of one of Sam's soccer teammates, Jake, if she might be willing to take Sam with her and her son to a weekend tournament in Arizona.  I have not been a regular on the soccer practice fields and thus do not know most of the parents of the other boys all that well.  A few weekends ago, however, there was another tournament that included multiple same-day games and I sat next to Jake's mom and we got to talking.  Both of our boys eat gluten-free and we covered the challenges of that topic as well as many others.  I'm sure she said her name sometime during the day but I wasn't certain of it and looking at the group email list that gets sent out, I deduced which address most likely belonged to her.  I sent her a long-winded email (there might be a pattern here) about how nice it was to get to know her and how much Sam enjoys playing with Jake and does she have room for Sam and yada, yada, yada and when I got a reply, I learned that I sent it to the wrong mom.  She was as kind as possible and even included her desire that I not feel embarrassed or awkward about it but that she was actually Patrick's mom and she was sorry, but she didn't have room for Sam.  Gah!  I stewed for a few hours feeling dumb and then rolled the dice that these two mom's wouldn't compare emails and copied and pasted the same email to the right mom.  She was flattered that I would trust Sam in her care and happily agreed to take him.  All's well that ends well, right?  

The Good:

I am leaving in a day and a half with the boys to Montana for our week-long Thanksgiving break.  I cannot wait.  I need a change of schedule and scenery.  Hallelujah for the big sky!