Thirteen Hours

That's how long I slept last night. My week and weekend caught up to me and when Jen and Christopher left, I crawled into bed for a "nap" and woke up at 9:30 pm. I came stumbling out of our bedroom and found Jay watching The Amazing Race. He rewinded it for me and watched it again with me. After that, it was back to bed until 6:45 this morning! Funny...but I don't even feel refreshed. I'm hoping that feeling will come soon. With no school, I need to be "on" but I would love a day where I could hibernate in my pajamas and read. In the meantime, until I can find that on switch, I threw on a star wars movie and sat down to get caught up in blogland.

Friday was an incredibly busy day. I had about 10 errands to run and felt like I was just hopping in and out of my van all day. My boys were generally good sports about it but I felt bad that Seth's day off from school was filled with things that are boring for him. We got home and picked up the house for Jen and Christopher's arrival. They showed up at about 5:00 and we ordered Mexican take-out. Christopher watched all seven kids during the concert and we left him 7:15. As soon as we got out of the van to walk to the cathedral, I realized I had a major problem. My new nylons would not stay up. I had thought when I put them on that the elastic in the waist seemed timid and that brief walk demonstrated its complete failure. I held them on with one hand until we were safely inside and then, making sure no one was around to see, hiked those babies up as far as they would go. Blasted walmart brand nylons! Jen left me to go get a seat and I met the rest of the choir in a back room. Every time I stood up, those nylons slipped down and I eventually went into the bathroom and just took them off.

St. John's Cathedral

The inside - great accoustics for the audience.

I was relieved to find out I was not overdressed. My sister, Maureen, is a choir director at a high school in Utah and in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir so has lots of fancy clothes. She sent a couple of concert black numbers back with Jay when we went there to interview two weeks ago. I opted for the black velvet top and skirt complete with Dana's jewelry. The men were in tuxedos and most women were wearing pearls or sparkles so I was happy with my choice.

Concert Black

Someone handed me a program and I was surprised how thick it was. It's the kind of program you get when you go see a musical or opera. I read about all of the soloists and our director, Gunther Schuller.

Gunther and me!

I was even in the program. I didn't know if I would be due to my late entry into the game but my name was at the top of the list of altos!

I'm in print!

The concert was really fun. Singing the music with the orchestra without any stops and all of the solos really brought both the Vivaldi number and the Bach piece come alive. Those men were true geniuses and the complexities of harmonies and counterpoint are phenomenal. There were no glitches, no big mistakes made and the audience seemed to enjoy themselves. I'm so glad I was able to be a part of it but sad that I just discovered this opportunity. It was kind of my break into the music scene here and now we're leaving. Maybe I'll be a little more proactive when it comes to music where ever we end up.

My one fan - thanks Jen!

Jen and I went to pick up Jay after the concert. He had to wait a little while for us but it was so good to see him after a week! He had brought home a box of See's chocolates and wanted to know all about the concert on the way back. I could tell he was tired after his twelve hour days of lectures and cases and lack of sleep from an uncomfortable bed and he crashed as soon as he was home.

Saturday, we all went to Staggering Ox for lunch before Seth had his basketball game. I thought it was really cool that they allowed these pass along cards in their restaurant.

I've always loved the Ox but now I love them even more!

Of course, they were nestled in between a gym membership raffle box and some gossip magazines but they were there!

Seth's game was hilarious. They got "crushed" again (Seth's words). I don't know what kind of basketball mom to be. The "as-long-as-they're-having-fun" mom without a care in the world or the kind that wants more bang for my buck and wished they had a coach that actually taught them how to play. I feel frustrated at his games. Seth is really excited about the game of basketball so having fun isn't a problem. But he doesn't have any direction! I took this video of him and unfortunately didn't turn on the audio but even this silent film shows perfectly Seth's style of play. It's called, "I'm open!"

Seth's open under the basket.

They can hardly contain their excitement.

At least they had a corner to play in

He spends most of his playing time "getting open" but I think only touched the ball once. But he's good on defense. Ah well...he's six, right? I picked up the mail when we got home and got a nice package from Bridget which I opened with an appropriate amount of guilt.

Thanks Bridget!

Not pictured are the yummy Hershey's truffle kisses which were quickly devoured:) Very, very sweet and thank you.

Jen and I went shopping at a warehouse store that sells mostly Costco returns and found a few things including the new Diana Krall CD!

You just don't know what treasures you'll find.

We got home and the sun was shining so we crossed the street and took all of the kids to the park for some needed outdoor play.

Sam and Jonas on some kind of teeter-totter

Gotta love the help from big cousins

Seth and Ansel work on their skills

Henry is delighted in his swing

Owen had a great time on the slides

It's been awhile since he's been outside!

Jen and Christopher went to see Annie the Musical that night and Jay and I had all of the kids. The four big boys slept in the bunk beds together, Henry was downstairs in our room and Owen and Sadie in the guest room. Jay and I caught up on all of our shows for the week (He only had three channels in his hotel room and I was gone every evening) and then talked to Jen and Christopher until after midnight when they got home.

Sunday is always busy with church. Sacrament meeting was a bit boring as they only had a youth speaker and then left 35 minutes for the high council speaker! Yikes! I felt so weary and it was all I could do to not sprawl out on the choir bench and go to sleep. After church, the boys played outside and we talked and fixed supper. The boys are such close cousins and it was fun to watch them play all weekend. They really love each other. Their close relationship will be one of the things I miss the most when we leave here.

We had dinner and then Jen and Christopher headed back home. The rest, for me, is a blur. I dozed in and out of consciousness while Jay did the dishes, did Seth's altered Science Fair experiment (more on that later), and put the kids to bed. I'm looking forward to catching up with everyone else!

The Grinch's Good Mail

I don't know how to write this because I'm going to look bad. In addition, other people might get their feelings hurt. Which is really not my point. Just keep reading. You'll see.

I was introduced to blogging through Jenny. I had never heard of a blog as a means of keeping in touch before May of last year. I had only heard the term "blog" in regard to news, Drudge report, election fodder, etc. When Jenny told me about hers, I read it for two months before I jumped in. At first I felt like a voyeur. I didn't have an account or anything and didn't know how to leave comments so just read without her ever knowing. It also never occurred to me to read any body else's blog.

I started blogging in July and went through that honeymoon phase where you read EVERYBODY'S blog. That was when I first learned about the catch phrase "good mail". I was impressed by everyone's thoughtfulness but also scoffed at the amount of time, expense, effort, and energy that went into all of it. As I wasn't involved in it, it was easy for me to be judgmental reading post after post about people's new treasures. I guess I thought it was a little showy. I can't believe I just wrote that and am sure I'm going to some kind of blog outer darkness for admitting it, but it's true.

If I'm playing the honesty card, I will also admit that the reason for my scorn was probably due to my own weakness and laziness. I'm a lazy friend. I love my friends. I love my family. But I am low maintenance and generally treat my loved ones the same way. It's like the jocks that make fun of the kids in math club. They make fun of them because they know they aren't smart enough to be in it. They might not know that's why they are making fun of them but if they really soul searched...

I knew immediately that this was a group that I couldn't be part of. I'm not cutesy. I'm not crafty. And let's not forget that I'm lazy. But I think I already mentioned that.

I mailed Jenny something this week. Nothing cutesy and certainly not crafty. In fact, nothing is a display of my skills unless you include driving through a drive-thru a skill. And I didn't consider it good mail. It was a good, old-fashioned care package and it took me three weeks to actually mail it. When I mailed it, it felt incredibly good. And the excitement I felt about her getting it felt even better.

Meanwhile, an unexpected package arrived at my doorstep yesterday. I opened it and it was the nicest card from Kelly with a gift card to Red Robin (which is our family's favorite restaurant). She said that she wished she could bring me dinner during my busy week but was using Red Robin as an alternative. And she seemed genuinely proud of me for this choir thing. I was very touched.

From Kelly. A girl after my own heart! I love the Fiesta Pollo Salad!

Today, a package from Dana arrived with an absolutely stunning, black onyx necklace, some lotion, candy and card. Pure kindness. It almost leaves me speechless (but not fingerless - I can still type!).

This picture does not do the necklace justice. It sparkles and is heavy. Quality stuff.

These are two women I barely know. I have no idea what Kelly even looks like. But, as Sally Field so eloquently said years ago, "They like me! They really like me!"

And the Grinch's heart grew three times today.

Thank you. You are beautiful women.

10 Things I love about....

Henry

1. He smiles with his whole face.
2. He's got the greatest little button nose.
3. He looks for me wherever I am.
4. He likes to clap his hands.
5. He puts his fingers through his blanket and wraps himself in it.
6. He'll flirt with anyone.
7. He's generally a good sport with his smothering older brother.
8. He's only interested in expensive gadgetry. He's all about technology.
   
9. He's cute with his mullet - and I thought it was out of style!
10. His blue eyes.

Sammy

1. He's got a lisp that he's working on. He can say "ssss" if he really focuses. So if he is trying to say any word the right way, he puts a long "sss" on the front it it even if it doesn't need it.
   
2. He usually doesn't complain about wearing his glasses even though I know he'd rather not.
3. He snores when he fakes sleep.
   
4. He plays "I Love You More" with me....and usually wears me down.
5. He's tough.
6. He pretends he's driving when I drive.
7. He likes to sing.
8. He's a great little dancer.
9. He's my gopher during the day.
10. His got the best big brown eyes.

Seth

1. He's a self-titled Math Wizard.
2. He's honest. Always.
3. He gave his two "big" valentines from his package to Heavenly Father and Jesus.
4. He'll try anything I make.
5. He's passionate about what he likes.
6. He's sensitive.
7. He follows instructions.
8. He always remembers to pray.
9. He's fun to shop for. He'll talk about his new...whatever...for days with great zeal.
10. He's a great example for his brothers.
11. *edited for one more - it was too good to omit* He thinks that wars must have stopped today because "who would fight on a love day?"
    

Jay

1. He's the best storyteller in the world.
2. He never criticizes me. Ever.
3. He's willing to drive crappy cars so that I don't have to.
4. He writes poignant poems for me.
5. He looks hot in pants (which is a good thing since he wears them everyday!)
6. He knows a lot about a lot but isn't a know it all.
7. He makes me laugh out loud.
   
8. He's a hands on dad.
   
9. He does his best to do the right thing, always.
10. He's in love with me.
    

Valentine's Day

I've never been overly sentimental about Valentine's Day. I never had one until I was married but neither Jay or I consider it our "special" day. My best memories of the day are the cards and gifts my mother would give us. I don't even think she did it every year but she at least did it once because I know I got a photo album once. Like I said...not overly sentimental.

With Jay out of town, I wasn't really concerned about this day but sometime this week, I shifted my gears from thinking it as a lovers holiday to just a love holiday. And I have three little loves that are not out of town. My kids don't generally expect grand gestures from me but I surprised them today with a pretty fun day, if I do say so myself. Everyone woke up early (5:45) and I let them watch cartoons for an hour. Then I dug out the heart shaped waffle maker that was a wedding gift that we've used about three times in the last ten years. I'll have to whip it out more often because the boys loved it!

Not super pretty...but they are just for eating.

When I got a card for Jay, I picked up two more for Seth and Sam (I just can't spend $3.00 on Henry who doesn't read, doesn't care and I don't save them anyway). I handed them their cards while they were eating and gave them both a few dollars. They don't get an allowance and only get money when they do jobs so they were very excited about their "free" money.

Cards and money. Simple and sweet.

I have read many, many articles on keeping the spark alive or showing love by leaving little notes for loved ones. I tried it out on Seth. I put one in his shoe, his glove, his backpack, his folder, his lunch box. I could tell he liked them because he got really hyper and told me all of these notes were SO annoying!

I didn't want Sammy to feel left out so I arranged a play date for him while I went into Seth's classroom for the afternoon party and took him out to lunch at Subway. I even got him the Kid's Pack with the toy (stickers) which I never do. Total treat for him. He was kind of confused about the whole day because his preschool party was yesterday and he already opened up all of his valentines. But he had a great time with his preschool friend.

I was the party coordinator in Seth's first grade class along with my friend, Alisa, and I have to say that the party was a great success. I'm not a crafter so I just left those out of the planning and we spent the time playing games. The kids were laughing and trying to win and there were no tears, or bored kids. On the drive home, Seth told me he wanted me to be the party mom every year, especially on Valentine's Day. His approval and pride in me was the best valentine I got all day.

The spread. Cupcakes, strawberries and Swedish Fish! And yummy red punch!

C-U-P-I-D game

Cupid Says

Valentine's Puzzles

We just picked up a heart shaped pizza for dinner and I think Valentine's day just found a convert. It's really fun to make an extra effort for the people I love. Now, if there could just be less pink involved....

My Kind Of People

As I walked to my car after last night's rehearsal, I thought to myself, "These are not my kind of people." I wasn't being mean. I certainly don't think I'm better than them. On the contrary, if anything, I feel I don't fit in among the vocal divas. There is incredible talent in this choir. Big voices and even bigger personalities. Everyone pronounces Bach - Baccccchh (you know, like they're clearing their voices) which I cannot do without giggling. It reminds me of my high school Government teacher, who was sure to pronounce words in their native accents. Coooba for Cuba, Hav-i-ee for Hawaii, and when she said Machievelli, I almost fell out of my chair from laughing.

I don't mean to pigeon hole anyone. I don't actually believe anyone fits in just one category and stays there and has no other dimension to their personality, but when people get in groups, and the group takes on a life of its own, I think in that instance, one trait stands out above the rest and at that moment - they are a "kind" of people. And my conclusion is that professional singers - as a group - are not my kind of people.

Which makes me wonder who are my kind of people. Who do I identify with and feel like I belong among the group?

Mormons. I think my biggest identifier is a Mormon or to use the now politically correct label - Latter-Day Saint. It is just so all-encompassing that it infiltrates most aspects of my being. How I parent, how I wife, how I work and serve and play. Mormons are my kind of people.

Moms. I think it's true when they say there is a mommy club. From labor stories, nursing, potty training, sleeping and feeding. It's impossible not to feel some bond because you just know how it is. Moms are my kind of people.

Sharers. As a certified sharer, I can't help but feel a strong connection to others willing to open up and let it out. I think that's why blogging has been so satisfying for me. I'd say, in most cases, that bloggers are sharers. Why else put your life on the world wide web? Now, I'm not including in sharers "too-much-information-too-soon"ers. Nothing freaks me out more than someone, I barely know telling me they are depressed, in debt, constipated etc. Let's build something first. Then let me feel your pain. Otherwise, you are not my kind of people.

Doers. My kind of doers are not to be confused with those who must have something to do at all times. I am perfectly content to be still. What I mean are people who follow through, who don't need their hand held and do what they say they are going to do. The opposite of flaky. I just don't enjoy people I can't rely on. I take plans seriously. If someone suggests a girls night out or a date night, or a cruise or whatever. . . and the consensus is "let's do it" then I mentally commit - start arranging my schedule to allow the activity to happen. I gravitate towards fellow doers. Let's just get 'er done.

Thinkers. My favorite thinkers are my dad, my mom and my husband. My biggest attraction to my husband (besides his cute bum which I'm sure by mentioning...I'm creeping my in-laws out. Sorry) is our conversations. He'll print something out that he read on the internet to share it with me. We'll talk about war or the Sunday school lesson or great inventions for hours. I am a wonderer and a ponderer. I want to hear both sides of a story and discuss them. I like to be around people who have opinions and know why they have them. People who have read something interesting and share it with me.

Of less importance but significant enough to mention are athletes - I'm certainly not world class but I enjoy physical competition and some of my favorite people have been those I high five after a game. Dancers - I've bonded with people in mosh pits to line dances. I love to dance (socially - I'm no performer). I miss dancing greatly. Also, people who struggle with their weight - most women would probably put themselves in this category but unless you REALLY know, you really don't. It's a shadow that haunts most minutes of your day.

This list is not comprehensive. It's just what I've thought of the during the last 12 hours. I think it's a pretty inclusive group which makes me happy. I guess most people are my kind of people in one way or another.

Blah

Man...relieve some pressure and all you're left with is a flaccid, lifeless Lucy. I have a serious case of the blahs today. I'm cold, sick of winter, lonely, tired AND have greasy hair (I really need to get in the shower). Jay is gone all week in San Fransisco. Henry is coming down with yet another cold. (SERENITY NOW!) I have choir practice every night this week except tomorrow night when I have a Financial Peace class at the church and then book group. I'm co-in charge of Seth's class Valentine's Day party on Wednesday afternoon which means cupcakes need to be baked and frosted, hearts need to be cut out and valentines made out. I need to go grocery shopping. I need to get our cash out and put into envelopes. Utah needs a certified copy of Jay's birth certificate and copies of his med school diploma which I need to go make. I have a concert on Friday night and need to find a way to pick Jay up from the airport. Jen and Christopher are coming this weekend which makes me wish that my house was more orderly. I need to help Seth start his science fair project that is due next Wednesday, and I have several phone calls to make which I'm dreading. Mostly because they involve me backing out of something (I can't go to stake musical practice on Thursday night, I'm turning down a nice lady wanting me to join an adult soccer league, I need to find a substitute to play the piano in primary that I said I'd sub for because I want to sit with my sister in church).

My brain feels like it is in slow motion. Yet I feel almost panicky at the same time. Send some cheer my way, please.

Pffffffffff

That's the sound of pressure being released.

Last February, when Henry was in the PICU, Jay had to leave to interview for two MSK (muskuloskeltal radiology) fellowship positions. At his interview in Denver, he interviewed with a well-known MSK expert who offered him a spot but hinted that she might be retiring and there was a chance that she would no longer be at the university when he came. We weighed the pros and cons and decided that the program there was a great program even without her and that the extra year of training would be good for his career. He accepted the fellowship position and for the last year, we have been planning on moving to Denver at the end of June.

About a month ago, the above mentioned radiologist sent Jay an email saying that she had, in fact, left Colorado and was working in Utah (part time at the University and part time at a textbook company) but that the situation she had left in Colorado was unfortunate. The department chair had left and as of yet, they had been unable to find a replacement. In essence, there was no one left there really qualified to teach Jay about MSK. Immediately after reading the email, we both knew that we would no longer be going to Denver.

In her email, she mentioned that she was attempting to work something out his behalf Jay at the University of Utah. It wouldn't be a full-time MSK fellowship because they had already filled their position (as had every other program about a year earlier) but that if he would be willing to fill in as Jr. faculty for body imaging, they could teach him MSK 50% of the time. We were both grateful for her concern for Jay's education and the strings she was willing to pull and thought Salt Lake would be a fun place to live for a year.

Several months ago, Jay asked me what I thought about living in Arizona. The radiology group that his residency is affiliated with (Inland Imaging) is opening a branch there this fall and they wondered if he was interested in going there after his fellowship. (Very unfortunately, they don't have any MSK openings here). I balked - rather loudly. It's hot there. I hate being hot. I think I burst his bubble a bit but you know when you get asked "So, where do you think you guys will end up?" about a million times during this medical journey - never did I consider anywhere outside of the mountain west. I have never been set on a particular place...but mountains, seasons, proximity to family were all included in my rosy picture.

When mention of this change of plans leaked to Inland, they started talking to him about going to work for them this fall in Arizona and doing a 4-6 month MSK training with them (they have never done this before and it wouldn't be a credited fellowship). I started to soften my position regarding Arizona because I could sense that it was an offer that appealed to Jay. And the more I softened, the more convinced I became that we could sincerely be happy there. Jay weighed both options and while he felt either choice placed an asterisk on his fellowship credentials, the Utah asterisk was probably the smaller one. After lots of praying, we both felt really good about going to Utah.

Then came another email from the program director from Utah saying that they had received a couple of applicants for the body imaging position so they would no longer be able to work something out with Jay. We both felt like the rug had been pulled out from under us...again, and wondered why we had felt so good about Salt Lake.

The talks intensified with the radiology group here and we were fairly certain that we were heading down to Arizona this fall. The idea that we were going to be done with being students, after all, was very attractive and my initial reluctance about living in the desert, away from any family and in a big city (all three pretty big strikes in my book) melted away. I actually felt really excited about it.

About two weeks ago, Jay received another email from Utah. They wanted Jay to come interview but they had worked out another way to fund Jay's fellowship. Now, he was going to get to do 100 % MSK (four days a week) and work as faculty at the VA one day a week. This offer was significantly better than the original one but mentally,we had shut that door and it was really hard to reopen. Why struggle financially through another year if Jay had a job that was great and where he'd be able to do what he wanted without a fellowship. We were both surprised that we weren't salivating at the offer. He agreed to an interview but we had decided that unless he LOVED it that we were going to Arizona.

He left last Sunday and interviewed Monday. He started his day going to a sarcoma conference and was impressed by the studies they showed. He got a glimpse of the kind of education he would get as a fellow and realized that a year there would put him at the next level of radiology. He'd get to train with this world-renowned radiologist that he wanted to train with in Denver but now in addition to her, there were four other really good MSK radiologists he'd be learning from. He came home and sheepishly told me that he really LIKED it. I have never been personally opposed to the fellowship anyway and really, what's one more year when you've already done nine?

Through all of this, Jay's nerves have been like a ticking bomb. He's a planner and his fellowship was taken care of a year ago! I felt so awful for him, to have to worry about this when his boards are coming up in June and also about how these changes affected our entire family. He hates feeling like he's just dragging us all around. And we both care more now with Seth in school than we ever thought we would. I get really sad when I think about leaving here and would love fewer transitions for him.

So, we had all of this pressure and I couldn't write about it! I couldn't even really talk that much about it (although I did with a few people because otherwise I would have exploded!) We are both very glad that the uncertainty for next year is over. I think this is the best choice for Jay and we have family in Utah so it will be great for me and our kids too. And after that, who knows? I think this makes Jay very competitive in his field. I think any group will be lucky to get him.

Book Review #32 - Folding Paper Cranes

I know...another book review...boring.

My mother-in-law started a family book club a couple of years ago where she would buy a bunch of books and then mail them to all of the girls. We were supposed to read it and then mail it on to the next person. In theory, we were all supposed to have different books at different times but eventually all end up reading the same things. Also, in theory, we were supposed to write down our thoughts and leave them in the book. I don't think either of those things happened. Books would build up in certain houses (totally guilty of it), or not read. For whatever reason, I thought it had fizzled out. But, last week, my sister-in-law mailed me two books that I'm assuming are part of the book club. One was Snow Flower and the Secret Fan (which I've already read) and this book.

It's a small book and the first thirty pages totally hooked me. Unfortunately, from about page 31 on...it kept losing me. It's a travel log, op ed of a man who served in the Marine's during World War II and then part of a group of military "volunteers" who were sent to experience what ground zero is like immediately after a thermonuclear explosion conducted in Nevada during the fifties. After witnessing the horrors of nuclear power, he left the armed services, used his GI bill to get a PhD and teaches literature at a small college in Colorado.

The title comes from a peace monument in Hiroshima. After the A-bomb destroyed the city, the survivors were called the Hibakusha. They were broken and wanted to teach peace and built this park to encourage the world to change. One twelve year old girl with radiation poisoning started folding paper cranes. According to Japanese tradition, folding one thousand paper cranes brings good luck but she died before she could finish. Her classmates finished her quest and a monument now stands where children bring folded paper cranes in honor of her.

I appreciated the author's effort. The world needs to be reminded about the devastation that nuclear explosions create...from the immediate carnage to the radiation fallout (the author himself had suffered bone cancer). But the book lacks structure and too often preaches down. His transitions were choppy and inner dialogue corny. I finished feeling disappointed that he had squandered away his chance of using his experiences as something meaningful and motivating. I had hoped for a better book.

Book Review #31 - Peace Like A River

My friend, Alisa, brought this book to our book group Christmas Gift Swap. I was the lucky recipient. Thank you, Alisa!

I had heard that this was a good book and interpreted those comments and the title into thinking that the book was going to be slow and deep and introspective. It kind of is. But it's also a page turner, which surprised me.

The story is told by Reuben Land, an asthmatic boy of eleven who searches for his outlaw older brother with his younger sister and father. Reuben believes in miracles. He has to. He has seen too many to not believe. His father possesses some kind of power to perform the impossible in Reuben's eyes. Strangely, as an adult reading it, I was torn thinking that the things he witnessed were either the fanciful imaginations of a wide-eyed boy or, in fact, wonderful miracles. I'm such a cynic. Yet a believer.

This book reminded me of two great books. One is To Kill A Mockingbird in that the father is calm and all-knowing...willing to do the right thing at whatever cost. Swede, Reuben's younger sister, is very "Scout"ish. The other book is The Life of Pi. Again, the narrator is a young boy who, in duress, witnesses miracles that explained, would not make sense to anyone else. They would probably even be ridiculed. But the boys still believed.

This book is peaceful and uplifting but also tragic, sad, funny, gritty....I could go on. Read it. It's a good one.

Six Unusual Things About Me

I've been tagged (this has never happened before - how exciting!) by Dana to list six unusual things about me.

1. I can cross one eye. It's a great party trick.
2. I often type things that I hear (without a keyboard - I just wiggle my fingers as if I had one). I like to see if I can keep up. Talks in church, talk radio, lyrics in songs...etc. It's kind of annoying to Jay when we're holding hands. He'll ask, "What are you typing now?"
3. I sleep with one foot outside of the covers. I think it helps regulate my body temperature. Camping gets tricky because of those sleeping bags! I get a bit panicky.
   
4. I like to make good time on road trips. It's why I like to drive. I'm usually thinking about my estimated time of arrival based on my speed and miles left to go. Keeps my math skills sharp.
   
5. I've been to a Nine Inch Nails concert. O.K. That's just embarassing but I really liked them my freshman year of college.
6. The only callings I have ever had at church have been in music or in a primary presidency.

Next...I tag Tara, Kelly A., and Christi

Fool Me Once, Shame On You, Fool Me Twice...

Baby shoes. You think they are cute, innocent little things. Especially the athletic ones for boys. Oh, little sneakers! How darling! Hah!

On a Sunday three years ago, I handed Sammy off to my friend Andrea while I managed primary (Jay was on call...my friends are great!). He was rather fussy but Andrea doesn't stress out easily so I wasn't overly concerned. About thirty minutes later, however, she came and got me and said that she could not calm him down and was a little worried about him. With a heavy sigh, I went and got Seth out of nursery and went home to deal with a cranky baby.

But he wasn't just cranky. He was sobbing. And very red. I was worried that something was seriously wrong after listening to him cry for ten minutes (the mom alarm was going off) and knew that it was more than being tired, hungry or wet.

I decided to take him to the ER and left Seth with my neighbor. I figured if he calmed down on the drive then I could just turn around and come home (car rides soothed Sammy). But during that fifteen minute drive, his pain seemed even more severe and I worried that perhaps he had appendicitis or something that would require emergency surgery. When I looked in my rear view mirror, I could see his head thrashing on his car seat. Thinking of his fear and pain, I started to cry myself.

The triage nurse in the emergency room asked me all of the pertinent information, checked his temperature and blood pressure and needed to take his pulse ox. I took off one shoe so he could put the gadget on his toe and listened to Sammy scream. I was flustered but at least felt justified that he was still clearly in pain and that I hadn't brought him to the ER on a whim or in a moment of over protection. The nurse led us to one of the ER rooms and gave me the instructions to undress Sammy so that the physician could do an exam. He shut the door and I took off the other shoe.

The blood immediately rushed to his heel where the flap of his shoe had been cutting into his skin. His scream turned to a whimper and then disappeared all together as I finished undressing him. Crap. It was just his shoe. I was mortified and wondered if I left if they would still bill me. They had already taken all of our info though so I felt trapped behind that door. They'd know either way.

At that moment, Jay rushed into the room (I had left a message for him on his pager) and saw the now red crease on his heel.

"Was it his shoe?" he immediately asked (I think even before a "Hi. How is he?")

"Um....I think it was. I'm so sorry."

I was so embarrassed.

The doctor walks in and both of us explained that our child's two hour agony was most likely the result of an uncomfortable shoe. She chuckled, said lots of kids come in pain and it turns out a piece of hair was wrapped around a toe or something that the parents overlook. She did an exam anyway. Nothing was wrong with him. She even printed out the record of our visit and on Doctor's instruction it says, "beware of the nasty shoe!".

That really cute four dollar pair of shoes cost me a hundred and fifty dollars.

Fast forward to today. Henry, Sam and I were headed to the children's museum to meet Andrea, KariAnn and Lara and all of their kids. I was running a little late and couldn't find his Robeez that he usually wears so threw on a pair of Nike sneakers without socks (there were none to be found!). He was completely fine for the hour and a half that we were there but started to get really ornery as were were getting ready to go. I moaned about how this is what he's been doing for the last three days, how I don't know if he has another ear infection or if all of the screaming is because his top molars are hurting. They listen sympathetically and agree that he's not acting like himself.

I stop in Nordstroms to get some make-up (Shiseido has a great foundation, I've been out for three weeks and looking quite ruddy) and he's inconsolable. Several women ask me what is wrong with him and I explain that he is teething. Lots of "poor baby"s but I am about to scream I am so frustrated. On the drive home, Sammy wants to tell me a story and I shout at him that I cannot listen to anything else. My brain will explode. Henry's crying is all I can handle. When we get home, I rock him for a while. I start to think that all of this pain cannot be merely teething pain and that he must have another ear infections. Drinking a bottle doesn't help soothe him and I decide to change his diaper just to cover my bases. On his changing table, I take off his shoes so that they don't end up lost (like the Robeez) and as soon as I touch the laces he screams even louder.

An old familiar feeling rushed over me. Not again! I took off the shoes and both of his little bare feet had creases all over the top of them. But his scream turned to a whimper which eventually turned into a smile as I sat and fed him a bottle.

Beware of the nasty shoe!

A Color By Any Other Name

As a new homeowner, I couldn't wait to add some color to my blah, white walls. We had picked up an old couch from my parents on the move but it needed a cover and I had just discovered Pottery Barn. Wanting a complete look, I also ordered drapes, a hearth rug and a comely floor lamp. When all of my goods arrived, I lugged the rug into Home Depot as my inspiration for a paint color. I prefer warm tones and the perfect shade turned out to be called Mustard Seed.

A couple of years later, we purchased a new leather sectional for our family room. My dad had given me his cowboy art that had decorated his law office when he retired but they had been stored in our garage for over a year. With the new sofa, I finally had a chance to display these unique watercolors. Unfortunately for my penchant towards the warm tones, the predominant color in all of these pieces of art were cool blues, greens and pinks. But there was some brown and just a hint of warmth in the color of the wheat and jacket on one of the cowboys. Again, I hauled the picture into Home Depot and held color after color against the jacket. All of the effort paid off as I found the paint color I was looking for. It was called Claire de Lune.

On Saturday, Jay was on call and I wanted to accomplish something that would allow me to feel I had really done something. Preferably something that couldn't be undone, destroyed or smeared a few minutes after I finished. I have a few bedrooms and bathrooms that I want to paint before we list the house and I decided to paint our bedroom. We had never painted the white walls in the four and a half years we have lived in the house. It's taken me a while to view the room as my sanctuary. It's been a bedroom/scrapbook room. Bedroom/X-Ray reading room. And then it was just a sad bedroom/stuff room.

That all changed on Saturday though. I drove to my new favorite paint store, Rhodda paint, only to discover that it is closed on Saturday. Although I've sworn off Home Depot after the tile removing debacle, it was nearby and I needed paint. I had my pillowcase in tow to find a nice cream color to compliment our bedding. I've been told that you should go a little darker than you want because when the paint is all over a wall, you usually want a little more color than you think. So I found the shade I wanted and the next darker shade looked great with my striped pillowcase. I purchased a gallon of the Stucco.

I prepped the room, taped all the moulding and moved the furniture. Put the drop clothes down and started to paint. It takes a while when you have to take breaks to feed kids, change diapers, and read blogs (I'm an addict!) but when I was all finished, I couldn't believe it...it's the exact same color as my living room which is the exact same color as my family room. Basically. I have three yellow rooms that only the keenest of eyes could tell were different paint colors. Jay didn't even love the first yellow room. I obviously love it if I've chosen it, independently, three different times. I hope someone else likes yellow too...preferably someone looking to buy a home in the next five months.

Lost In Translation

This is for Jenny - she wanted to know what's up with the name of my blog.

My very first post was an explanation about the title of my blog. But that was ages ago. Remember the PRESSURE when you're trying to think of a title? I wanted something witty, true, catchy and unique. Well, I'm fairly certain there isn't a duplicate title out there. Perhaps I choked but this is what I thought of and couldn't think of anything else. When I was in 8th grade, we had penpals in my French class. My penpal's name was Lucien and let's just say he struggled with English. I'm sure my French was no better but in one of his letters, his postscript was "P.S. I think life is a big spasm who flow." I have no idea what phrase, thought, idea the poor boy was trying to translate into English but my friends and I had a fun time with it. In fact, throughout high school, when the ridiculous would happen, this was my mantra. My personal translation - it's a good thing.

Quilts

My mother-in-law (Karen) is a talented quilter. She is always working on one or two or three. My first very own quilt was one she gave us to use as a bedspread when we were newly married (which we used up until last year - now it is on our guest bed).

Our guest bed. Anyone want to visit?

One winter, before I had Seth, Jay and I were visiting his parents and I noticed several pictures of different quilts on a wall above her sewing machine. One quilt in the pictures particularly caught my eye. Quilts patterns have names and Karen informed me this one was called a single Irish chain.

Mine is blue and white. But basically...this is what it looks like.

A few more comments about how that is the kind of quilt I would like to have and my ambitious, patient, kind loving mother-in-law said, "Let's make it." As a quilter, she has stockpiled lots of fabric and we went looking through her trove for some white and blue fabric to begin this quilt.

Hours turned into days as we worked at piecing this quilt together. She stayed by my side pretty much the entire time, showing me how the sewing machine worked, ironing pieces that I needed, measuring for the next cut. Without any small children to interrupt our progress, I could spend hours at a time at the sewing machine. This I did, foregoing snowmobiling, trips into town...I was very into this quilt. Especially as it started to form. What amazes me about quilting is you just take these small pieces...strips of fabric and then a turn here, stitch there and this pattern emerges. She knew this visual would keep me going and after each block we finished, we would lay it out on one of the beds, like adding pieces to a puzzle. When they were all finished, we sewed all of the blocks together, added the batting and the back and loosely stitched it together so that the actual "quilting" could begin. What? We hadn't been quilting yet?

No...that was called piecing. Quilting is when you wear a thimble and hold a teeny tiny needle and sew the front, pieced, pretty part to another solid piece of fabric with some warm stuff in the middle.

Feeling ambitious, I wanted to quilt the solid white blocks with a design. We went to a quilt shop, got everything I needed and she showed me her quilting technique. I attempted a few times myself and assured her our quilt would be finished back in our apartment.

I took the quilt, needles, ring, thread back to Denver and promised myself that I would finish it that winter. I took it out of it's large, black, plastic garbage bag a few times and attempted to quilt. It was harder than it was with my mother-in-law by my side. I couldn't even get the thread through the needle without MAJOR effort. And then there is a knot you are supposed to put in the thread to keep it from pulling all the way through. I forgot about that. Frustrated, my precious quilt went back into it's dark home.

For years. I couldn't look, talk or be around my mother-in-law without a tremendous amount of guilt. I didn't have anything to show for the hours she sacrificed teaching me her talent. To make matters worse, I had a baby....and I got quilts as gifts!

Knowing now what it entails to make a quilt, I received each gifted quilt with a mixture of shame and awe. Why would anyone give something away that took so much blood, sweat and tears? Especially to an ingrate non-quilter like me?

I paid someone to finish that quilt. It took about two weeks to get it back and it was beautifully, machine stitched together. I finished the edging and loved the quilt once more. I gave it to my mother because I knew I didn't deserve it and I wanted it to be somewhere I could look fondly at it every once-in-a-while.

I still receive quilts as gifts. I take a great risk posting this because I have been blessed to be related to and know some great quilters. I don't really want these blessings to stop. Grandma Karen just sent two more in the mail yesterday as birthday presents for Sam and Henry. Here is my bounty over the years.

Seth's baby quilt from Grandma Karen (Cats)

Sammy's baby quilt from Grandma Karen (frogs)

Henry's baby quilt from Grandma Karen (butterflies)

Sammy's birthday quilt from Grandma Karen (fireman and dalmations)

Seth's quilt from Grandma Karen (cowboys)

Henry's birthday quilt from Grandma Karen

My favorite Grandma Karen quilt - brown!

Seth's baby quilt from my mother

Henry's baby quilt from my mom

Sammy's baby quilt from my mom.

Henry's baby quilt from Aunt Peg

Seth's baby quilt from Aunt Peg

Sammy's baby quilt from Aunt Peg

I LOVE this quilt from my buddy Christi - quilter extraordinaire

Henry's quilt from Christi

Sam's quilt from Christi

A quilt made by my friend Jenny just for letting them stay at our apartment!

Henry's favorite blanket is actually an afghan from his Aunt Molly.

Book Review #30 - Outlander

I've put this off for days. Preparing myself for the wrath of Dana and Kristin. I know how I feel when a beloved book of mine isn't adored. Simpletons! Idiots! But I just can't sugar coat it...here goes.

This book has a lot going for it. It reminded me very much of one of my favorite movies of all time, Somewhere In Time. You know? The one with Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour? So romantic. This book is romantic like that. A woman from the 1940s gets trapped in the 1700 Scotland and is forced to marry for her protection. This is when it started to remind me of the paperback novels with heaving bosoms and muscular chests. The protagonists, Jamie and Claire, are married for convenience (he must protect her from his arch nemesis Jonathan Randall who is brutishly evil and she must be married to be protected by Scottish law instead of the English crown) but really he wants her and she falls for him. Passion ensues but she keeps getting kidnapped which keeps him on the hunt and her constant hero. No amount of pain or torture can stop him from protecting the woman he hardly knows but just can't get enough of. It's just...unbelievable. Diana Gabaldon writes an engaging story but doesn't develop the characters enough for this to be great literature. No one is that tough, that bewitching, that heroic or evil or honest or brave. Except in romance novels.

But that's not why us girls read books like these. Simply, this is a fairly tale but instead of pretty gowns, there are kilts and clans and a lot of fight scenes. But the love story reigns supreme over the underlying story about life in 1700s Scotland. Honestly, this is the kind of book that made me fall in love with reading. This book is seven hundred pages and I read it in a day and a half because I really wanted to know how it ended. And, happily, it is a series! There is more to come. I am looking forward to reading more about Jamie and Claire.

Love you guys! Forgive me?