I'm Back

I had to re-emerge from my funk with a book review. It totally helped. Man, was it hard to shake off this one, though. Some remnant is still clinging on. My fuse is pretty short. But it isn't lit now, so la-de-da-de-dah.

Nothing earth shattering to report. Memorial Day weekend was a huge let down. For the past nine years, it's been a pretty major weekend. We usually run in the boulder bolder. Or Bolder Boulder. I can never remember which way it goes. Anyhoo, one year we blessed Seth. One year, Jay graduated from Med School. My expectations are high. But Jay's boards are in less than a week, AND we only deal in cash now, so doing our usual trip to Denver to see family and run in the race was out of the question. I should have come up with some better alternatives. I didn't and I paid the price.

Let's see....Friday night we went to Wendy's for dinner. Woo-hoo! Let's get this party started! Jay and I watched a good movie called Saint Ralph.

I hadn't seen a lot of Jay last week so it was nice to get in a movie night. Saturday, Jay gave the boys haircuts then took off to study at the hospital the rest of the day. I sort of wandered around aimlessly, gearing up for nothing, and finally headed out to the valley of the strip malls to get an oil change and grocery shop at the dreaded Wal-mart. Which is never a good thing to do on a Saturday. I know that. But I was driving down to see cousins and sister Sarah after church on Sunday and was already 2,000 miles overdue. Off we went and guess what? The funk began.

I don't know if they train their checkers to be super friendly and incompetent (nice disguise, huh?) but I swear every time I shop there, I get behind someone who decides to become best friends with the check-out lady. Which distracts check-out lady who feels she must start talking with her hands which prevents her from picking up the items and gently running them over the bar scan laser. And no amount of heavy sighs and neck tilts seems to remind anyone about the crazy lady with the three kids crying for candy behind them!

Home, kids in bed and Jay comes home. We watched another movie called The Illusionist. I loved it. Who knew Ed Norton was a hottie? We watched the interviews with him afterwards and...yup...it was the make-up. He's not. But the goatee and the hair he's got going on in the film? Hummity hummity! (Sorry Jay. Now you probably won't give it five stars.)

Tiny picture...but he was looking pretty fine.

Sunday, church. It seemed extra noisy to me. I didn't get to sit with my family but kind of enjoyed the break anyway. (Sorry Jay.)

I went home during the third hour because I wanted to leave right after church and Henry is just hard, so used him as an excuse to run home and pack. I changed into capris and drove back to the church hoping to catch the boys on their way out. But Jay had a meeting with a bishopric member so I had to go in. In Capris. Ten people probably made some kind of comment. Of course they were on the opposite side of the loop so I had to do a full lap around. Just so everyone could see.

Henry has become a bad traveler. Last month, when I drove to Utah, he was an angel. I think now that he's walking, he's no longer content to be strapped down. I can't go longer than 20 minutes now without him screaming. So, I ended up putting on my Ipod headphones and listening to music while the boys watched a movie but I was still all jittery by the time we were done with the two hour drive.

Jen and Christopher took a trip back east for their ten year anniversary so Sarah came up to watch their kids while they were gone. It was a lot of fun to be with her but it was also a lot of work. Single ladies. Seven kids. I swear it's always meal time when there are that many kids. From the prep to the clean up.

Breakfast of oatmeal and cocoa and toast. We joked that they looked like Double Dare teams from Nickelodeon. Remember that show with all the slime??

Yet another Meal

Borrowing cousin Sadie's pink bib. He used to kind of look like a girl with his longer locks but with the buzz....no more.

And Jen has more toys than we do. Sammy noticed. Out came the little plastic army men. Out came the tiny legos. Out came the tinker toys.

Sarah hates when I take pictures of her. But, she learned a trick to say, "Don't take my picture, while smiling!:)

Once the boys were in bed (they were so cute...Seth and Ansel shared the bottom bunk and Sam and Jonas were together in the top. Priceless), Henry shut away in the dark walk-in closet (I LOVE the closets with no windows!!!!!) and Sadie and Owen down, we broke out a game and Karaoke.

Isn't this sign adorable? Of course, I defied them!

Seth and Ansel

Sammy doesn't look too comfy here. Still cute, though.

I came home Monday afternoon and went to KariAnn's later that day for a BBQ. She has the best yard. There were twenty-five kids there and it didn't even seem really crowded. I'd love to have a yard like that.

KariAnn's poor roses took a beating.

My funk was pretty heavy that night so I probably seemed like a downer to my friends, but I was trying. Jay hadn't been around me for most of the weekend so wasn't aware of my latest mood and by the end of the night, he seemed kind of scared of me. (Sorry Jay.)

Tuesday you know. Henry caught a bug and the day started with him throwing up. Jay had to work that night and it was the last book group and I couldn't find a sitter and then decided to stop looking because Henry didn't feel well. It felt tragic but I just let it go. I went to bed at like 8:00 and when Jay came home at 9:00, he told me to go but I had already given up. I was able to read and finish a book and really was o.k. letting it go. No more book group. Then Andrea called at 10:00 and said they were still talking so to come on over. The girls in the group had got me a lovely parting gift so I went to Carolyn's and was there until 1:00 in the morning!

Pretty bracelet. Thank you girls. You are all lovely.

Wednesday, Henry was still sick and I was surprising sluggish from my late night:) I was really tired of my funk, and it was leaving me alone for stretches throughout the day, but it never quite left. Then, in the afternoon, I felt the pang of the stomach bug. My stomach was hurting and my head started pounding. Jay came home earlier and fed the boys his ancient family recipe of goulash (I was kind of thankful for my upset stomach as an excuse. Sorry Jay.) and put them to bed while I read in bed.

Yum, Yum!

I did stumble out in my jammies to watch So You Think You Can Dance. Oh. My. Gosh. All I can say is, thank goodness for dancers from Pleasant Grove, Utah. Winker and Hiccuper took the funk far away.

Today was fine. I went out to the mall to return some stuff while Sam was at preschool. Washed the car. Vacuumed it out. Even Armor-all-ed it. A clean car helps any mood get better. Then I went to Seth's school's book fair and watched the boys salivate after books (I love it!). Some playtime outside enjoying our 80 degree weather and off to Taco Del Mar for dinner. I saw someone there from my ward who I've never talked to before and asked if I could join her and we had a really nice conversation. Then bath time, books, prayers and bed.

Jay isn't home yet. I can't believe how hard this week must be for him too. His eyes hurt and yet he can't not study. Thankfully, this will all go away in a week. Just one more week.

Now...one more hour of auditions for So You Think You Can Dance. It's like the final chapter really. Thank goodness for Nigel and Mary. And all the people that think they can dance, but can't. Really....thank you!

Book Review #3 - The Thirteenth Tale

Several weeks ago, I searched Amazon.com's best books of 2006 trying to find something interesting to read. Pretty high on the list was this book by Diane Setterfield and Miracle in the Andes, so I reserved a copy of both from the local library, along with several others, and these were the first two to become available. For some reason, I choose to read Miracle in the Andes first.

I've tried to read it. I am not a lover of non-fiction. Occasionally, I surprise myself by liking some of it. I appreciate when someone chooses non-fiction for book group because it forces the issue and, like kids with vegetables, sometimes a little nudge is necessary for me.

I read the first 50 pages of Miracle in the Andes. From what I can tell so far, it's well written, intense...kind of exciting. But, it sits on my nightstand, night after night, untouched. I'm tired tonight. I'd rather watch T.V. I just don't feel like reading. But I was wrong. I just don't feel like reading that book!

Finally acknowledging my mental block with reading, I picked up the other book I reserved from the library. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I think it was ranked by Amazon's editors #3 from their Best Books of 2006 list. I knew it was kind of a mystery but that was it. So, how fun when I picked up the book and read this on the back of it:

My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring lke a bear in the chimney? what you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie. - Vida Winter

How appropriate! Yes...I don't want a true story. I want a great big ol' lie! And a good one too!

I don't really consider fiction a lie. I mean, it's entertainment for me. I don't read because I'm a lover of words or sentences or grammar. I notice when those things are lacking, because of course, they contribute to a well-written story, but it's the story itself that attaches me to a book. And this is a great story.

A hugely successful author writes a letter to an unknown, spinster woman with a commission to write her biography. The author, Vida Winter, has never told anyone her real story. Her pen name is made up and with each new novel of hers that is published, interviewers try to expunge her background. With each interview she tells a completely different, obviously made up story. It becomes a rite of passage to interview the great author and report back her latest tall tale. So, her offer, to tell the truth, is a huge deal. One that would be crazy for anyone to turn down. The trouble is, the woman she makes the offer to isn't really interested. Up to that time, she reads almost exclusively old 19th century fiction. She isn't interested at all in living fiction. She has her own reasons, and her own secrets. Mystery #1. And Vida Winter only wants this particular woman to write it. Mystery #2.

After reading the letter, Margaret, the biographer spinster, picks up one of the author's books for the first time, originally called Thirteen Tales of Change and Desperation, and is immediately drawn in to the story. When she finished the twelfth tale, she turned the page to discover that the book ended without the final thirteenth story. Mystery #3. What is the thirteenth tale? . Feeling drawn to the author for unknown reasons, she accepts the invitation and Vida Winter tells finally tells her story...sort of. Mystery #4.

The entire book sort of throbs with these haunting mysteries. It isn't intense. There is nothing scary about this story. But the truth becomes uncovered in a controlled, rhythmic manner and with each uncovering, a few more mysterious shadows turn up.

I loved it. I don't need to read non-fiction with books like this out there. Phew!

Grrrrrrr

I'm really irritable today. For a variety of reasons. I've actually been in a pretty gritty mood for a couple of days now and I guess rather than just let the memory slide, I'm documenting it. There. I said it. Bah!

Just keeping it real.

Look Who's 70!

Happy Birthday Dad!

My dad is a no frills kind of guy. Doesn't need them, doesn't want them, doesn't do them. As a tribute to him, I'm keeping this as simple as possible. Just a list.

Of seventy things:)

1. He was born in a small farming community in Idaho.
2. He's the third of four children.
3. He marches to the beat of his own drummer.
4. He was a cheerleader at his small high school in Montana.
5. His graduating class had probably like 15 people.
   
6. I don't think his High School has seen a male cheerleader since.
7. He had a gift for breaking horses in his youth.
8. He was fluent in Navajo on his mission.
9. He will fix and fix and fix a car over buying a new one. It's always cheaper to put in a couple of hundred dollars, than buy a new one....much to the chagrin of his children.
10. He doesn't like to eat out.
11. His favorite cake is German Chocolate.
12. His older brother once had to pay him to go on a double date.
13. He has never worn a tuxedo.
14. He loves good music.
15. He has a lot of his family history memorized. If you know yours...he could tell you if you're related.
16. He says he was born with a testimony of the gospel. He cannot remember not having one.
17. He can take a cat nap anywhere.
18. He loves crossword puzzles.
19. If we're playing trivial pursuit, he says he doesn't want to play but then answers all the questions before anyone else.
20. He loves to tease.
    
21. He can do that Dick Van Dyke laugh from Mary Poppins.
22. He likes to read out loud if he thinks something is interesting.
23. Buying gifts for him is extremely difficult. He doesn't want anything.
24. We used to make him homemade tapes of us playing our piano pieces and he acted delighted.
25. He's always willing to drop us off and go find a parking spot on his own.
26. I don't remember him ever bringing work home.
27. He reads dozens of papers from around the country online every day.
28. He sings tenor.
29. Sometimes (most of the time) he's the only tenor in the ward choir, even if he's directing.
30. He has distinguished white hair.
31. I think he's told me all of my babies look like Lamanites and have the nose of Joseph Smith when they are born.
32. He's a great dancer.
33. He taught me how to do the bop.
34. He's pretty aware of an unwritten ten-minute phone call rule.
35. He is an early riser.
36. He'll make anybody anything they want for breakfast.
37. He always hand washes dishes.
    
38. He taught the Freshman early morning seminary class for nine years.
39. If I have a gospel question, I usually ask him.
40. He thinks nothing of visiting a long lost third cousin I've never heard of if we happen to be in the area and wonders why I don't want to.
41. He loves to conduct with a conducting wand.
42. I think he conducts hymns too slow.
43. He thinks it makes the lyrics more meaningful.
44. He has written the most romantic letters to my mother as Christmas gifts along with a blank check!
45. He holds my mom's hand.
    
46. He only wears button down shirts. I've never seen him wear a t-shirt.
47. He changes into jeans as soon as he can.
48. He likes to watch sports on T.V. and yell at the refs.
49. I remember him yelling at one of my volleyball refs once. The ref happened to be our bishop.
50. He bears his testimony to his children often.
51. He loves and accepts each of his childrens' spouses.
52. He mows the lawn with heart attack speed. Sometimes we worry about that literally.
53. I'm pretty sure my mom has bought every article of clothing he owns.
    
54. If she gets him something new, he balks and says he doesn't need it. Then, after a month or so, he'll start wearing it.
55. He used to scare me driving down MacDonald Pass. He doesn't like to brake if he doesn't absolutely have to.
56. He is loved by anyone who knows him, Chinese government officials included.
    
57. He's the best grandpa.
    
    
58. I want my children to be like him.
59. He didn't go to the doctor for decades. When he had to go before they got approval to teach in China, his assumption proved to be true. He's healthy as an ox!
60. I admire his support and love for his younger sister, Jennie.
61. Utah traffic makes him cranky.
62. He loves my mom's cooking.
63. He does most of the chores now.
    
64. He is very intelligent.
    
65. His memory is unreal. It's not infrequent that he'll begin a sentence with, "When I was four, I....."
66. He's always happy at funerals.
    
67. He's a friend to anyone he meets.
68. I've never seen my dad "work out". Every once in a while, I will catch him sprinting down the street.
69. He always trusted his kids and expected the best from us.
70. He's the best man I know.
    

I love you Dad. You continue to be an example to me and my family every day.

Good Neighbor or Bad Influence?

Jay - I chose this song especially for your enjoyment. I thought it'd bring back memories of David Brent from the BBC version of The Office.

There is a nice family two homes down that I have never gotten to know. I know they live there because three of their kids (they have four) ride the bus with Seth and the bus stop is right in front of their house. I no longer walk Seth to the bus stop so they have seen me but don't really know who I am either.

A few times earlier in the school year, they were locked out of their house after school. The first time, they knocked on my door and asked if they could borrow a phone to call their mom, who was at school. They would not come inside, but stayed on my front steps the entire time, even after my invitation. The other time, it was snowing and cold and they had forgotten their key so came over once again to use the phone. There were tears in all of their eyes. Their mom didn't answer the phone, however, and I could tell that the youngest, a first grader like Seth, was really scared and cold. I absolutely insisted they come inside and try again. As soon as they came inside, they relaxed because they saw Seth and started playing. About ten minutes later, their embarrassed mother knocked on my door looking for her kids. She seemed mortified, which I understood, so I reassured her that her kids did not want to come inside but I made them. She apologized and told me about her schedule and how they all usually get home at the same time but they have a key for the times they don't and so on and so forth. I tried to let her know that I wasn't judging her, at all. I told her I wished I had introduced myself earlier so there wasn't any embarrassment at all and how much I hoped Seth would think to go to their house if I happened to not be home (well...not really if there isn't an adult there....).

Anyway, that was the last time I spoke to either parent. I'm just not a fabulous neighbor. We live on a semi-busy street and it's not like we all hang out in our front yards. But I have noticed that Seth and her kids have become pretty good friends. They holler good-byes as they get off the bus and I can see Seth joking around with them as they wait for the bus in the morning.

Thursdays are late start days here. School starts at 9:30 instead of 9:00 so the bus comes a half hour later too. Because Sammy starts preschool at 9:00, Seth walks to the bus stop as I pull out of the garage to take Sammy. If I were an easily freaked out person or over protective, I'd probably worry about leaving my seven year old standing alone on the street waiting for his bus while I drive off. But I don't. He's fine. The other option would be for him to get himself out the door five minutes after I leave but I know this child well....he'd start reading a book or playing with something and I'd come home to him still here. He gets distracted easily.

As I drove home, I noticed these three children waiting for the bus, but no Seth. I look at the clock and it is 9:15 and the bus comes at 9:10. They've missed the bus. I drive past them but feel bad for them, so I turn around and pull into their driveway. I put my window down and asked if they needed a ride. They are so polite. Cute, cute kids that have, no doubt, been trained by their parents to NOT get in cars with adults they don't know very well. They've probably been overly trained. Did I mention that they are African American? And that the former headquarters of the Aryan Nation are a mere half hour away? (it got busted by the government a few years ago). There isn't a lot of color in this area. Besides color from a tattoo parlor, which is plentiful. Anyway, I'm sure their parents are very aware of their minority status.

Tangent aside, I can't get them to accept my offer for a ride. The oldest child, a boy in fifth grade, tried to call his mom so I could talk to her but she was unavailable. The three looked nervously at each other and the oldest asked, so sweetly, if I wouldn't mind "escorting" them as they walked. I told them yes and backed out of the drive way and they started walking while I drove at 2 mph beside them. But then a woman driving a black jeep seemed suspicious of this van driving so slowly beside three young children, so she pulled over and asked if they needed a ride. I heard them tell her no and she drove off. I stopped the car and opened the door and insisted once more that they get in. In a quarter-mile,they would have to cross a busy street where cars routinely travel between 50-60 mph and I told them it wasn't safe at this hour of the day. I know there are rules about and all, but come on....I was driving a mini-van! I had my baby in the car! I was wearing a mother's day t-shirt with my portrait painted by Seth on it! (it was work-out wear, though. I don't normally wear hand crafted clothing.)

They got in and I got them to school on time. I wish it could count as a good deed but how sad is it that this nice family has lived so close to me all year and we are still such strangers that there is even a question about their safety when they are with me? I drove home wondering if I had even done them a favor. Did I just lower their guard for next time? What if the person offering wasn't a harmless and poorly dressed woman? Can you assume the neighbor you don't know at all is a good person? Plus, they did miss the bus. Would having to walk to school and be late have taught them a lesson?

Parents...what do you think? Did I do the right thing by forcing them to let me give them a ride? Be honest.

Oh.....and don't forget to watch So You Think You Can Dance? tonight. I am so dang excited!!!! Seriously, it's a fun show and the judges are hilarious. Way more entertaining than American Idol.

Happy Birthday Babs!

Bump, Set, Spike...Give 'em What We Like!!

I love this music sidebar thing. I have so much fun choosing songs! This one was from my high school pre-game warm up CD. Go Lady Bruins! (For full imagery sake, imagine me dazzling in Gold and Brown...running a lap with my team while we're all swinging our arms)

Last night I went and played volleyball at the Stake Center. I realized today that I could post about it with absolutely no censoring. Nobody that was there reads this. Nobody even knows who else was there. Freedom!!!!!

I have been wishing, hoping, plotting for a volleyball night for women for as long as I've been married. In Denver, our church building was really unique in that they didn't have a gym, but rather, a true cultural hall. The ceiling was lower, it was carpeted (without basketball lines) and had stairs to the stage that went the entire width of it. You know....like the Lincoln Memorial or something. We did attempt to play volleyball there occasionally, but with the low ceiling, flimsy posts and risk of major rug burn, actual play there happened few and far between.

Of course, now that it finally starts here, I am moving. It's actually been going on for a month now but last night was the first time I didn't have a conflict or memory lapse. I got to the church at 8:30 and met two other ladies passing a ball back and forth to each other. I turned on my super charm and introduced myself and we made a triangle. Bump, bump, bump. Wheee!

Another woman comes and now there are four of us. Bump, Bump....wait a minute....set....bump. I'm still smiling but starting to wonder if this was the better choice over my bubble bath. After about fifteen minutes, the person with the keys to the closet shows up and we finally get the net set up.

It's been forever since I've played a game with a net set at women's height, which is way more fun. The few times I've played anything but backyard ball, the game is co-ed so the net is raised to the men's setting. For good reason too....the ego of certain men usually takes over and it prevents most from pummeling the ball down onto unsuspecting Sally Sue. Plus, I can't hit on a men's net. My vertical is all of about three inches.

While the net is getting set up, a few more women show up so there are nine of us total. We play four on five, which is o.k., but there are a lot of holes on the court and no one on either side is good enough to cover them. But I'm happy. I'm playing volleyball... I'm having a good time.

But it's kind of quiet. So, I turn on my hyper boost (my family will know what I'm talking about) and start totally spazzing out. Making jokes, taunting the other team in that overly friendly way (guffaw, guffaw) trying to get some smiles from these people. My attempts at breaking the ice hardly even get an eye twitch, though, so I concentrate on my game instead.

Nobody seems to be having a particularly good time, and I start to wonder why some came if it wasn't for the social interaction. Like the one woman who always punches the ball with her fist, no matter how the ball is coming to her. Serve receive? Punch! Trying to set (although...there is no way she was actually trying. I'm just saying the ball came to her on the second hit)? Punch! Free ball? Punch!

I noticed a pattern that whoever's team she was on tended to lose. At first, we switched up the teams by having two people from each team switch sides. The next time we started to switch up teams, one woman asked if we wanted to choose balls for teams. Huh? There are only nine of us and it's pretty easy to remember who was on which team the game before. There stood the eight of us, looking around, waiting for someone to make the decision so I said, "sure...let's choose balls."

She runs over to her backpack on the stage and whips out a tin pan. The kind my mom puts homemade carmels in or peanut brittle at Christmas. Rather than sweet treats, the tin was full of orange and white ping pong balls. She came prepared! I jokingly asked if she served in the primary and I didn't even get a smile! Tough, tough crowd.

Balls chosen and teams decided, we started again. Puncher and I happened to both choose white balls so the next two games weren't very fun. I really, really didn't want to be that bossy lady who is trying to relive any kind of glory day by "coaching" her team. But, nobody was getting the serve up because three people were crowding into the back row and everyone thought the other person would get it. When I asked who the setter was, in hopes that someone would move up to the net, the only response was, "Whoever wants to, I guess." No...no...no. It's supposed to be the person up at the net. The person you try to get the serve receive to. Smile on the outside, screaming on the inside.

I realize I sound like I'm starring in the movie, Dodgeball, but most of the women there were really trying to play. Everyone was serving overhand (except for one person who started in a low crouch and then did some bizarre sidewinder serve) and almost everyone at least attempted to set up a play instead of catapulting the ball back over after only one hit. It was more like someone just needed to take charge, you know?

We continued on, choosing more balls every so often. After we had been playing for about an hour, a man from the stake poked his head into the gym to see what was going on. Now, this man is THE nicest man. The most pure hearted man I've ever met. Truly, one of my favorite people ever. But he went on, and on, and on.....and on about how wonderful it was that we were there playing. "Look at you guys! How great that you are here playing! This is so neat! Gosh...I just think this is the best thing!" Eventually, his enchanting enthusiasm could no longer mask his real meaning which was, "look at you out of shape women getting out of your houses to be active together! Way to go! Keep up the effort!"....but in a totally nice way.

I don't know why women don't do this sort of thing more frequently or regularly. Well, I actually do. We have husbands who have callings or jobs that take precedence. Or important and valuable family and couple time to recharge and refresh a relationship. But, if the men can sneak out of the house for basketball AND ultimate frisbee AND softball (although, I should mention Jay rarely does. He, bless his heart, always says he'd rather be home with me!!!), women should try to do something every once in a while, too, that doesn't involve desserts.

We promptly ended at 10:00. I bet most people return next week. It was a good time. It would be even more fun with a few more people. Oh...and Sarah? Someone had knee pads! And it wasn't me!

SPT - National Friendship Week

did you know may 20 - 26, 2007 is national new friends/old friends week?

you've been challenged to answer the questions: who is an old friend? who is a new friend? how long have you known them? what brought you together? have you drifted then reconnected? where do you meet new friends??

I am really struggling with this challenge. I don't know why. My brain is all scattered and nothing coming to mind pleases me. I worry I'll offend. Wouldn't that be exactly the opposite intention of a post about celebrating friendships? Should I be vague or narrow?

As a compromise and a way to direct my thoughts, I've decided to limit my scope to the blogging arena.

I did not start a blog to reconnect with old friends or to make new ones. Both of those things happening were serendipitous.

Not all of my old friends know about my blog. Some do and I think some read. A few have made comments and when they do it's as wonderful as having your yearbook signed.

Jenny C. was the person to introduce me to blogging. I met Jenny twelve years ago. The very first time I met her, I was living in Arizona for the summer and she came with Doug to my apartment. I could tell right away that she didn't like me. I'm sure she didn't love her boyfriend coming to visit another girl. Why did he visit? Because Doug was one of my best friends at BYU. He was my brother's roommate and for the last year, a group of us had spent a lot of time playing practical jokes (remember the secret admirer letters?), cutting a rug with fancy dance moves and watching bad kung-fu movies in the front row of theaters. She and Doug were engaged soon after and married that December. I went down to their wedding reception in Arizona and while I wouldn't say Jenny and I had hit it off, I think she realized that I wasn't a threat. When Jay and I started dating, we were finally able to do some fun things as couples and then we left Happy Valley the same year to pursue medicine in different parts of the country.

If you've read her blog, you know how dedicated she is and the day there isn't a new post is rare. Blogging has created a whole new friendship for us. Before, it was Christmas cards and birth announcements. Now, there are daily comments and I feel a part of her life. I know she is a part of mine. How does that happen? A keyboard, a monitor and modem? Almost everyone has those...but in the masterful hands of Jenny, those three things are as powerful as homemade pie, free babysitting and a friendly arm around a shoulder. I love our new relationship and thank blogging for allowing us to discover our own friendship.

Making new friends through blogging is the biggest surprise to me. I've always been the kind of person that is a better friend to a few than a lot. I've justified it by pointing out my large family, the relationships with my dear sisters and my relationship with my husband, each consuming a lot of my time and energy. I didn't feel like I had the attention span or desire for more relationships than I presently had. The first few comments I received from "strangers" threw me for a loop. Definitely wary of internet introductions, I tended to ignore those first hands of friendship extended to me. It wasn't until a few months went by, and I myself realized how the blogosphere worked, that I even enjoyed the occasional comment from someone new and felt brave enough to make some of my own.

One of these new comments was made by Kelly A. It's obvious from her own blog and the sharp and honest comments she leaves for others, that she is a gem. We had been making comments on each other's blogs for months, but a few weeks ago, we started a series of emails that have become highlights of my day. Have you seen Saturday's Warriors? You know how some things are meant to be? We were meant to be friends. And if it took the phenomenon of blogging for us to realize it, so be it. Score two for blogging.

Those are the specifics. And yet, it goes so much farther beyond what I mentioned. My friendships with my local chums have become deeper and more personal. Even my close relationship with my family has improved. My brother is not known for his phone skills, but through our blogs, we have much more frequent communication with him and Tara. I love it! Getting updates from other bloggers has become an important part of my day. Photos keep me updated in changes with hairstyles, home decorating...even the weather. I feel constantly buoyed by all of these relationships.

So....Blogger...thank you. Thank you for connecting me to all of these people that I cherish.

I always enjoy some Cookies and Milk and Yellow Balloons!

Happy New Friends/Old Friends Week!

The Cell of Our Circumstance

Endurance is more than pacing up and down within the cell of our circumstance; it is not only acceptance of the things allotted to us, it is to “act for ourselves” by magnifying what is allotted to us.
(Neil A. Maxwell May, 1990)

I have had an incredible Sunday. My head is pounding and I feel a little lethargic and it's fantastic!

Jay has his oral boards approaching in two and a half weeks. I have never seen him so intense with his studying or nervous about an exam since I've known him. And I've seen him take A LOT of exams. This is the last one. The last hoorah. The big kahuna. The exam covers eleven different subsets of radiology ranging from neuro (head and spine) to mammography. It takes place in a hotel in Kentucky and he will have 25 minutes in each of the eleven rooms to finish as many cases as he can. The more cases he does, the better the chance of evening out his score if he totally blows a case. Depending on how well he does, he will score between a 72 (the highest) and a 68 (the lowest). He has to average a 70 overall in each subset to pass. After his 25 minutes are up, he stops, goes to the next room, completely switches mental gears and begins again.

If he fails, he has to wait an entire year to retake them (he won't fail though. My guy is a smartypants.) But the thought of the possibility, the pressure...it gets to him sometimes. I've been lying low, taking the boys away to let him have a quiet house and guilt free time for studying. Life is going to seem so carefree when this heavy cloud passes.

BUT...something really cool happened today. A couple of weeks ago, my sister in law, Molly, called me and told me that she had been thinking about us and all of our stress coming up and wanted to let us know that she and her family would be fasting for us on the 20th (today). I'm not sure I've ever been fasted for. Truthfully, I was really touched. I thanked her for her love and told Jay later on that evening. He immediately asked if I had been talking about his stress or mentioning it on my blog and I reassured him that this wasn't because of me. He thought about it and agreed that it was really cool that Molly would feel so inspired and we went about our business for the last couple of weeks.

Jay and I joined the fast today and the sacrament meeting talks couldn't have been more appropriate. We had a returned missionary talk about his struggles in Japan and how the savior blessed and comforted him...helping him LEARN the language and be able to do all that he was there to do. Next, our Stake President spoke about endurance. He shared the above quote and the reason for our fast was made clear to me. There have been about a thousand times today that I have wanted to eat. My head ache is getting worse by the minute. But, I haven't sat around and wished for food. Each time I've felt hungry, I've thought about how I could eat or just veg. But instead of doing either (the pacing back and forth), I could do something entirely different (act for myself). I've written some letters, read my scriptures, cooked a really, really yummy smelling dinner that I am about to eat, and pondered about many things. I feel a little joyful and confident that the next few weeks will be good ones for us. Jay has worked so, unbelievably hard these last five years and this test will be a stepping stone for him to put to practice all the knowledge he has gained. And I know that I will be blessed for my efforts; not only in helping him, but for my own work too.

It's a powerful thing. I hope I can magnify the many great things that have been allotted to me. I'm glad for the chance to practice today.

Funky Boys

Yesterday, in an attempt to build up enthusiasm for cleaning up our family room, I played this family favorite as background music. They room was clean in no time and Seth and Sam were begging for more.

My camera ran out of memory but here is the general idea. Seth has mastered the sprinkler and the robot. Next project....running man. Sammy actually has some good moves but he appropriately shows his four year-old maturity level of hitting himself on the head and throwing his body onto furniture. Henry is learning the importance of "getting down" in our house.



White boys, indeed.

Poor Souls

I've got three for you. I'll do them chronologically.

Monday night, we had family home evening after being reminded by Seth for several weeks that we were being slackers. It's true. We are not perfect in this department but we agreed on Sunday that we would, indeed, have a FHE and Seth insisted on doing the lesson.

He took out his Book of Mormon reader and started leafing through, looking for the perfect lesson. When he said he found what he wanted to teach about, I asked him what it was and he responded that it was Lehi's dream of the Tree of Life. I was impressed. It wasn't killing Laban or cutting of arms or anything!

Monday night came and we gathered in the living room. Since I knew what the lesson was about, and my assignment happened to be music, I chose Follow The Prophet as our opening song. The boys have already both mastered it in primary this year so we had a hearty sing-a-long. Seth started in on his lesson and did a great job. He mostly read but when Jay started asking questions to see if he and Sam understood what Seth was talking about, they were both able to adequately answer the questions. Again, we were impressed. Seth wanted an object lesson/activity to go with his lesson so he asked Jay if we had any rope around the house. Jay went and found some and tied one end around the leg of our piano and we took turns holding the other end. The person holding the rope acted like the prophet, someone else tried to find the rope with their eyes closed and then use it as a guide to get to the piano and the other two left (Henry was happily crawling around and tripping whoever was walking around with their eyes closed) were what we called the detractors. Their job was to yell and tempt the person holding onto the rope to let go and come see what they had to offer. Jay and I both hammed it up, letting go of the rope several times acting confused about our choices but Seth and Sam both staunchly grabbed the rope and got to the piano as quickly as possible.

Everyone was smiling. Jay and I had that eye contact moment where I know we were both thinking, "yeah...we rock. We've got the spirit in our home." Then we made the fatal mistake.

Game time. We should have stopped with the rope activity. It was fun and solidified the lesson. But we decided to play a completely random game called Black Magic. The rules are kind of complicated so I'll get to the point. I knew the rules and guessed the right answer. Jay knew the rules and guessed the right answer. Seth guessed wrong. Sammy totally lucked out because he made a random guess and happened to guess right. The point of the game was to go a few rounds to see if the boys could discover the trick. But we didn't get that far. Seth was crushed. He left the room pouting that he wasn't smart and that even his younger brother could play the game better than him. Jay and I ignored him and called out that if he can't handle losing then we aren't going to play any more games. Seth countered by making a sign. It said, "For Sale. Five Dollars" and he headed for the door telling me he was going to go sit on the front lawn holding his sign.

I know it's a gimmick but it's so hard to know what to do. My instinct is to ignore him. Ignore the annoying behavior and it goes away, right? But I know Seth. And I know that all he wants is for me to cuddle with him and reassure him that it's o.k. not to be perfect because, for some reason, that boy thinks that is the only way we will love him. It's frustrating. So I ignored him first, then played the nurturing mother...getting down to his eye level and giving him a hug. When he still pouted and lunged for the door, I overreacted and told him to go sit on the lawn. Instead he ran upstairs. Not our best night. I'll let you decide who the poor soul is. Seth or his parents.

Number two. We went on a field trip for Sammy's preschool today. I went on the same one two years ago when Seth was in preschool and I should have known better. It's a place called Cat Tales which is a very small zooish place with different lions and tigers and....bears, who, the last time I checked, aren't part of the cat family. But they are big powerful animals who are designed for a natural habitat but fascinate humans so we like to look at them behind cages. Obviously, I have a bias. I have been to a few great zoos. I went to one in Omaha once that was very cool. I thought parts of the National Zoo in Washington D.C. were nice and not icky and overly concreteish. The last time I went, Denver's was making some progress. But, for the most part, I think they are sad places. The animals, while certainly protected from hunters and predators, look stifled, bored and pathetic. Their environment is usually some dirt, some hay and a bare tree. Add the smells that are inevitably a part of any zoo experience and usually, I choose to stay away.

First I got lost. So I was a half hour late to begin with. Then, when I finally pulled into the parking lot, a bus had just pulled up that was unloading passengers with handicaps. About 20 kids got out but all needed wheelchairs so I sat there behind the bus, just at the entrance of the parking lot so I couldn't get in another way or go around, for ten minutes. Then I parked, walked to the ticket counter and was behind the same 20 kids in wheelchairs getting tickets. That's all just to give you an idea of my mood to begin with.

Before we caught up with his class, we saw some tigers. That painted concrete is so like their natural environment! I didn't get it in the picture but it's of the Taj Mahal.

I don't know if eventually the let this lion out somewhere else but he was contained in nothing more than a dog run.

I pushed Henry in the jogger but he wanted nothing to do with it and started screaming. My guess is that lions and tigers don't really love screaming babies. I ended up holding Henry who couldn't decide what he wanted (I put him on the ground too and he just had another fit), pushing the stroller and trying to convince Sam to look at the animals instead of begging me for his oreo snack pack that was in the jogger's basket. After 20 minutes of trying and lots of stares my way, I clicked Henry back in his jogger and grabbed Sam's hand and left the other poor souls there. Sammy got his oreos and all was well again.

As we were driving home, I noticed this signboard.



Some character at this church always puts up the most ridiculous sentences. They are almost always political and I can't help but feel for the poor souls that follow this particular leader. I can't remember a time I drove by this signboard thinking, "well, that's uplifting and Christlike". In case you didn't notice, his latest deep thought makes no sense. Follow the thought to logical conclusion. Oppose comes from the word opposite and the opposite of evil is good, moral, righteous, sinless, upright, virtuous (and I even used a thesaurus to make certain). So, let's back up and look at this misguided thought. Give evil nothing to oppose. What would evil oppose? Itself? I don't think so. So don't give evil anything good, moral, righteous, sinless, upright or virtuous to oppose and let's see if it disappears. More likely, evil will eclipse everything so mankind will no longer be able to tell the difference. And then, according to this enlightened person, the world will be a better place. How absurd.

I know what he was probably trying to say and it's still absurd. Ah...I feel a sermon coming on. I'll stop here.

Book Review #2 - Twilight

My sister in law, Tara, let me know about this little gem. I had never heard of it but it is a very successful book. New York Times Bestseller. Moreover, it's written by an LDS author. The book has no ties, at all, to our beliefs. It is a love story between a high school girl and a vampire. Not exactly what last week's sunday school lesson was about:)

Still though, it's a good book. Clean. I was very surprised that I liked it as much as I did. First of all, it's young adult fiction. I keep hoping I am too mature for young adult fiction, but I'm not. I loved all the high school drama. Even more surprising, I was totally drawn into the relationship between Edward and Bella. I couldn't believe it. Hello...he's a vampire! Who am I rooting for?

I rooted for the vampire. Even more than I rooted for Bella who wasn't balancing her attraction to Edward with a desire to kill him. Edward is a good guy who controls his urge to kill humans by feasting on wild animals. I know...PETA would be appalled, but it is a moral step up. He is eternally seventeen, because that was when he was bitten and became a vampire (it was humane), but he was born in the early 1900s. Once the author, Meyer, exposed that part of his character, I felt it allowed her to write Edward as the old soul he was. He no longer seemed like a seventeen year old boy, which he kind of did at the beginning of the story. Mentally, he was an adult in my mind.

While the love story is interesting, the story really grabs the reader when it turns into a thriller. Bella is discovered by some other vampires and one in particular decides to track her. Now you have vampires fighting vampires and it's just...exciting.

Fun, fun read. And there's a sequel! Yay!

Book Review #1 - Eat, Pray, Love

I should have written this last week when I finished it. I felt stronger about it than I do now and I know that'll show up in how I review it. I'll try to key up the memories.

I really liked parts of this book better than others. The book is broken down into thirds. 36 chapters (don't worry...they are shortish) for each experience. She does this because there is a string of beads used for prayer in India (along the lines of a rosary. In fact, according to Gilbert's research, the rosary was devised from it. Sorry. Can't remember the actual name of it)that is made up of 108 beads. It's a holy number. Divisible by 3 (obviously a holy number) and some other reasons. I really should have written this review last week.

Gilbert is a woman in her thirtees who has a successful writing career in New York City. At the start of the book, she is spending some time in Bali when she comes across a medicine man who tells her future. He tells her that she must come live with him for months and I believe it was that idea that sprouted her whole take-a-year-to-search-for-my-soul journey.

She then flashes back to the reason she needed the journey in the first place. When she turned thirty, the time came when she and her husband had decided they would start their family. Instead of simply feeling not ready, she felt strongly that she shouldn't be married anymore. She proceeded to go through an ugly divorce that dragged out for two years. During that time, she lost herself in another relationship with a different man and struggled with severe depression. With her very unique perspective, she found God.

She took a year off of life to see if she could find a balance between being in the world but not of the world (sound familiar?) She began in Italy for pleasure. This was my favorite part of the book. Not because it was about pleasure but her healing and voice are so pure here and I found myself wishing I could hang out with her. I liked her that much. Plus, Italy sounds like a dream.

Next she took herself to study Yoga and meditation at an Ashram in India. While I admired her for the sacrifice and discipline she discovered there, it was still so...selfish and some of her relationships bugged me here. I've never enjoyed the view from the top when it comes from other people. Maybe I'm petty. But I always doubt that they see what they really see. That's not what I saw when I was up there so I think you're wrong. But I know perspective changes depending on whose eyes are doing the viewing so I can't discredit her own sacred experiences. I just didn't enjoy India as much as Italy.

Then she goes to Bali and I liked it less. I'm making it sound worse than it is. I really liked this book. Her writing is so accessible, I felt like I was reading a letter from a friend. She's funny but not always ha-ha funny and several times I really felt uplifted. I liked her point of view, although it isn't mine. I was disappointed with how her year ended. I think she was happy with it though, and I suppose that matters more:)

SPT - My Mother

This week's challenge was about our mothers.

what would you like us to know about your mom? who is the woman in your life who bandaged your knees, led you to kindergarten, taught you how to play the piano, or how to run a basting stitch, or how to polish silver? maybe she taught you how to plant a garden, or how to take great photographs, or how to ride a bike?

if you could be with her this weekend, what would you say? is "thank you" enough?

When first reading this explanation, I laughed because there is a joke among my sisters and I that my mom can do all of these things but she didn't teach us anything! Let me explain....

My mother was born in her family home in a very small town in Montana. She was expected at a young age to help on the farm and help her mother in the home. It was a different time then and she learned how to do it all. She cans, she sews, she embroiders and needle stitches and cooks and all of those lovely things that you think of when you think of mothers.

My mother married when she was 33 years old. In our LDS culture, that is considered later in life and I'm sure the thought crossed her mind that she might not ever get married. She wrote out her own story on her blog, which I loved, and she tells of her great faith in the blessings she was given earlier and lived her life to the fullest the entire time she was single. She has her masters in English and knows a lot about the English language. I can always call her up when I need to know if I should say lie or lay. Mom, I think I've got it now. I lay the book down. I lie down to sleep. Yes!

She became a mother nine months after being married to my father. (nudge,nudge,wink,wink). She had decided to welcome as many children as Heavenly Father blessed her with and by the time she was 40, I was born, her fifth. My youngest sister came three years later and life was busy for my mother. My dad was busy at his law practice, busy as a young bishop, and later stake presidency, and she spent a lot of time managing the six of us by herself. I mentioned earlier about my grandmother coming to live with us after having a stroke. Having three children each spaced three years apart and being 10 years younger than my mom when I started my own family, I have a hard time imagining the stress and weariness she experienced while raising us. Honestly, she doesn't remember that much about it. Most of us took a child development class at BYU where we had to write a paper about our first three years of life, and every time someone called her for their information (when we walked, talked, first words etc.), she rolled her eyes and tried again to separate each of us from the blur.

Amid all of the messes and noise and clutter and confusion, my mother provided a peaceful, secure, loving home for us. We had the cute dresses for Easter and Christmas that she made. We had family home evening and morning and evening family prayer. We had breakfast AND dinner together as a family every single day. Sit down. With plates and everything. And she wasn't serving chicken dinos!

All six of us took piano lessons that she drove us to and from. Hours of either driving to and fro or sitting in a car waiting outside. That had to be incredibly annoying for her but I don't ever remember hearing her complain. Even when we did (which we all did plenty of), she just kept driving us, paying for us and even tolerating the music I chose to play which was almost always loud, showy and dissonant.

She always provided a balanced meal. There were always veggies and fruit and milk to drink. O.K. Sometimes the milk was questionable. I think money was tight so my parents slipped us a fast one and mixed our 2% milk with powdered milk and put all the "milk" into those glass apple juice jugs. Most of us refused to drink the end of a jug when the taste become....chewy. I love how she made do with what they had and made things stretch for her young, boisterous family.

I really could go on and on about what I admire about my mother. As good as she was and is at providing for me and my siblings, she fostered an environment where each of us learned to have our own thoughts and ideas and a strong testimony. She loves being a mother but she still has her own identity. She's an avid reader. It was her bookclub that she attended for years while I was growing up that gave me the itch to be part of one. She really enjoys mah jong. And boggle and other word games. She loves music and opera and the symphony. I went to more operas in high school in Montana of all places than I have in the bigger cities I've lived in since.

Both she and my dad always set the bar high for education and spirituality. Doing well in school and going to college was expected but also a given. I don't remember it being an issue because we sensed the importance of learning and knowledge. Her strength and commitment to the gospel is a constant example to me as a mother. She took the time to understand things, and ponder new things and passed on her thoughts to me. To this day, I love sitting around with her and starting a question with, "Mom, what do you think about....?"

I wish I could have seen her this last weekend. But once again, she is teaching me by example that you serve and you grow, you serve and you grow. I just thank my lucky stars that I get to call her mine.

No, I don't know how to sew. I struggle to thread a needle and use it for a higher purpose. I certainly don't know how to make her delicious bread that I didn't appreciate in the lunches she made for me daily (I had wonder bread envy). But I know that she loves God. I know that she loves my dad. Best of all, I know that she loves me. And that is the best kind of knowledge.

Thanks to the woman who made everything possible for me! I love you.

Storyboarding

Here's our weekend in pictures. Jay took the camera to the fathers/son camp out but says he's done with blogging so I'm going to post them. I'm also attempting a grass root campaign to save Jay's blog because I personally love how he writes and his perspective of things. Plus, every once in a while, I get a mention! So if you want him to keep writing, leave him a comment. Friend, family, stranger...don't be shy!...He's going to hate me for this. ;)

Seth hurt his knee on Tuesday and has been gimpy ever since. There is a big scab on his knee and I've no doubt that it hurts but he hasn't coped well. He walks like an old man and doesn't put any weight on that leg. I think it hampered his camping experience a bit.

Sam was always in the thick of it, plotting and scheming with his friends.

Pretty much anything becomes a gun or sword in Sam's masterful hands.

I don't know who brought the Cheetos but looks like Sammy started digging in. Sorry!

The camp was at a boy scout campground and I guess they had all of these tents on wood platforms already set up so no one had to set up their tents. Nice. I think it looks homey.

While the dads were talking, the boys found an old campfire ring and started kicking up the soot. They put on these #10 cans that were there for some reason but they used them in some sort of fantasy moon walk!

Another picture of the soot storm risers.

Breakfast in the morning with Alec and Reese. I think these boys are inseparable when they get a chance to be around each others.

The bishopric cooked all the food.

After eating, the dad's organized some impromptu games like races. Jay told me that our boys were the worse sports. Cried every time they lost. They made me so proud! Sammy is more of a defensive racer, as you can see here with his fancy blocking.

I guess Seth's knee cooperated enough for him to race. If Michael Jordan can win championships with the flu, Seth can overcome his pain for a ward race! It also looks like it's time for a haircut. He's starting to look like an elf from Lord of the Rings!

We had a nice mother's day around here. Jay was thoughtful all day and Seth was extra aware that I was supposed to put my feet up and receive lots of sweet nothings in my ear. When church is so early in the morning, it's hard to get those cuter shots when everyone is still kempt but here we are four hours later.

I told Seth that he should get all the presents because if it wasn't for him and his brothers, I wouldn't even be a mother. He thought about it for awhile and logically replied that we would have just had other kids instead then. No way. These kids were meant for me.

Mama loves her boys.

Jay and the boys got me flowers and my own nano! Now we have the three bears of ipods! Jay has the daddy bear, I have the mommy bear and.....jay also has the baby bear (shuffle). They are all so cute. I can't wait to get some of my own tunes! Sammy's gift to me from preschool was this framed picture. I love it.

The best gift of the day.

In related news, Henry decided to walk. He's been able to take steps for months now but this week, he turned it on and figured out that it can be used as a mode of transportation and not just to get that thing that mom and dad are luring him with. Enjoy his wobble.

Not Without My Daughter

It's the annual father/son ward camp out tonight. This is only the second time Jay has been able to go in the five years we've lived here. The weather is perfect (high 70s) and Jay is looking forward to a night of bonding and uncomfortable sleeping with Seth and Sam. He sort of offered (in that please-do-not-make-me-take-that-crazy-kid way) to take Henry but we both agreed that Henry is at a less than ideal stage for camping. We did take Seth camping several times when he was between 12 and 18 months old but we were younger and more naive then.

So, Henry and I are solo for the night. Actually, I am officially solo for the night. Henry conked out a few minutes ago (the sleep thing is working perfectly. He's napping like a dream and all happy and cute when he's awake) and I have the rest of the evening to blog, soak in a hot tub and read.

Most of my friends are having a girls night out. At first I was excited about the thought until I remembered what girls night out during the father/son camp out entailed. It's about painting pottery or stuffing teddy bears with their daughters. I have no doubt that it is fun stuff when you have a cute little girl beside you shining with delight, but, to be honest, that really isn't my definition of girls night out. There is the social part of me that feels a little left out, but then I remember that I can stay up insanely late tonight, read Twilight (the first chapter was so good...I can't wait to finish it!), listen to music with headphones, light a candle and eat my expensive Ritter chocolate bar that I bought at a health food market today. If they say it's healthy and natural...who am I to argue?

Today was a fun day. I took my friend, Rebecca, out to lunch at Luna's for her birthday, which is a beautiful restaurant with beautiful food. We both got the sampler plate where we could choose three items from the deli salad selection, the daily sandwich or daily soup. We both got the asparagus salad and what our waiter called an "open face pizza". He quickly realized his gaffe (pizza is, after all, always open faced. He got confused with the fancy talk) and we enjoyed our delectable lunch.

In my saner moments, I avoid pictures with tiny people for this very obvious reason. But Rebecca is too cool to really want to avoid proof of spending time with, and we wanted to capture our fun, fancy lunch.

Afterwards, we went to the elementary school where each classroom was hosting a Mother's Day tea. Our kids aren't in the same class but they both started at 1:00 and were over at roughly the same time. Seth made me an adorable plate and a cute book about the different hats I wear. He's such a serious boy but has this zany, goofy nature about him that is fun to see when he is around his friends. Last night, they had their music program.

Seth was a caterpillar. All of the songs were cute and upbeat about how we should treat bugs better. Sure... when they remain outside.

His adorable first grade class.

It was crowded because it was all four of the first grade classes and all of the second grade classes combined. Add video camera weilding family members everywhere and it was hot and uncomfortable. But watching Seth dance around and sing out was worth the hassle of fighting the other families and their three generations that were in attendance for elbow room. Today at tea, his class served strawberry shortcake and sang some really random songs (like yellow submarine.....??????). It was cute and very thoughtful.

My goofy Seth.

My gifts

After school, the boys and I went to a Health Food Market to find some gluten free snacks for Jay to eat during this camp out and I felt so conspicuous there with my three kids. It wasn't exactly kid friendly. No big car shopping carts. All sorts of things to touch and break at floor level. I felt like I made a bit of a scene and must have seemed a out of place because the cashier actually asked me if it was my first time there. It wasn't. I'd been there at least two other times. But I'm no dummy. When asked, I requested paper, not plastic, for my groceries. Just doing my part, people.

There really are some amazing gluten-free options out there now. I bought gluten free baking mix, gluten-free penne pasta, gluten-free crackers, gluten-free breakfast bars....and so on. It's really expensive but it exists. When they saw all of my gluten-free foods, they asked if I had their gluten-free handout. They have actually listed all of their gluten free foods, typed it out by brand and aisle number and type of food. It's amazing. Now I just need to get some dread locks and a long flow-y skirt to fit in while I shop.

I'm off to soak and read!

Happy Birthday Rebecca!!!!!!