December 2009, Part Uno

Ah, December. It could be argued that there is no busier month of the year. It could also be argued that eggnog rubbed on plantar warts causes one to hallucinate about frolicking pain-free in a field of wild clovers, thus proving that one can argue almost any point on one's blog and no one will bother arguing to the contrary because hey, it's an inconsequential family blog, so why waste the time?

Major digression.

Back to December. We launched the merriest of months with the Santa Dash 5k/10k run in Kent. While sitting in the car waiting for the race to begin, what did our wondering eyes behold? A "what not to do before a run" representation in full view. See picture below. The upside was the conversation we had with the kids about the logic behind the following equation: smoking + running still equates to shrunken, blackened lungs and cardiovascular disease. They nodded knowingly. All hail to multimedia health presentations/scare tactics employed by the public school system.



Sean ran the 10k, although I have no pictures of him. My defense is that he's just too fast :). But here's Tanner at take off. Tucker was planning on running as well but opted out when his toothpick legs turned blue and his bones fused to their joints due to the cold.

Here's Tanner rounding the turn near the finish line. I love his focus when he runs. It reminds me of the intense focus it takes for me to get my sorry rear end out of bed every morning.

Ah, and what would the holidays be without a middle school band concert? Tanner is admittedly pretty impressive on the ol' swing machine. Although it hasn't made any middle band concert programs that I'm aware of, his favorite song to play is called, "Caveman Gets a Haircut." It comes complete with two junctures in the score where the sax player grunts decisively.

Though now a graduate of the less-than-easy-listening sixth grade band, Katelyn has become a pivotal clarinetist in the seventh grade band. I begged her to wear the blinking Rudolph nose but she opted instead for the Santa hat. Conformist.

To boldly quote Herman Melville, "Thar she blows!"

I Saw Tanner Kissing Santa Claus. It doesn't have the traditional ring of the famous Christmas jingle, but this is a better story. A co-worker of Sean's dared my kids to kiss Santa, promising in return two extra lottery tickets for the prize drawings at the office Christmas party. Tanner and Kate were the only takers. There is no picture of Katelyn kissing Santa due to a failed flash, but here's Tanner laying one on Jolly Ole Saint Nick. He was mortified that I caught it on film, so I respectfully offered to buy the rights to his photo with a super-sized Slurpee.

While Tanner's ticket was not chosen in the drawing, Katelyn scored a 40" plasma TV (see below). It now resides in our family room, with the promise that it goes off to college with her in six years.

The holidays have been peppered with frequent visits/sleepovers with the Crosby clan (aka "The Flight Risks"). We love having my sister Anna and her family nearby again. Hopefully they'll make it through the winter before fleeing the state! This picture is but a single representation of the many wild moments our kids share together (they're getting fired up for a wrestling match against the girls).

This picture is worth a closer look. The lesson to be learned here, I believe, is that if a child warrants being smothered by a pillow, one should not do it too gleefully. Child Protective Services frowns on that. One should also not smother other people's children. (This is NOT her child :). Thanks, Jen, for the mid-blog, child-rearing "what not to do" moment.

Jen and her sweet boys hosted a raging Christmas party before they left for Utah. The decible level reached the sound barrier breaking point, if I recall correctly.

The kids honing their gift opening skills at a pre-Christmas morning event with Andrew, Preston and Jen, all surrogate Sundwall family members, on the 18th.

AAHHHH! I just realized my family is downstairs having fun without me. Must run!

My Honor Roll

The elementary school grading system in our district is on a 1 - 4 rubric scale (a 1=thanks for at least showing up, and a 4=thanks for showing up, and by the way you're pretty darn good at this particular subject but if we give you an "A" it may go to your head so we'll give you an arbitrary number like "4" to keep you grounded until middle school).

By the time a kid hits middle school he realizes that the letter "A" stands for my than the first letter in the word "Awesome!" (which is then followed by a smiley face stamp and a shiny star sticker on your 3rd grade marsupial animals crossword puzzle homework.)

While I'm sure the letter grading scale creates a certain amount of mental anxiety for most middle school students, it's apparently healthy anxiety because from my observations today at the Snoqualmie Middle School Honor Roll ceremony, I was blown over by the huge number of students who had secured a 3.5 GPA or higher.

While good grades are significant (who doesn't want their kids to succeed in school?!), as a parent, what I am particularly proud of are the more honorable "grades" assigned by teachers.

When meeting with all four of my kids' teachers (which, when counting my middle school kids' teachers, adds up to approximately 16 in all) during parent/teacher conferences a few weeks ago, some of the comments that lit me up with parental pleasure were ones like these:

"He is very respectful and considerate."

He is always kind to and works well with the other students."

She has a great sense of humor; she makes me laugh almost every day."

"He has a vivid imagination and is a wonderful writer." (I love this one!)

"She is neat and organized." (This was not prescribed to Tanner :)

"She's a great team player and a natural leader."

I truly do not intend to brag about my kids here. They have plenty of shortcomings. My point is simply this: as a mother, my "Honor Roll" requirements differ from the academic variety. The comments listed above are proof that, though they occasionally bare their claws at me or thump a sibling or forget to feed the cat (or to flush!), who they really are and what I'm trying to teach them shines through.

Either that, or someone is paying off the teachers just to make me feel like a good mom. (If it's you, I thank you profusely!)

I love these not-so-little people!

Protecting the rights of exploited deli products

We all have our own special holiday traditions. Although mine do not include processed meat sticks or deli cheese, I respect the time-honored traditions of those who annually patronize Pepperidge Farms and its counterparts.

However, times they are a-changing. What once may have seemed like a harmless summer sausage or block of gouda cheese now has shoppers watching their backs.

While listening to NPR a few days ago, I heard this alarming story.

(Warning: the following article includes disturbing descriptions of blatant misuse of deli products. If you are partial to salami or Parmesan, you may want to disregard the remainder of this post.)

Metro.co.uk headline: Two angry German shoppers were hositalized after a fight over a shopping trolley that ended with one using a salami as a club, and another wielding a slice of Parmesan cheese like a knife.

The delicatessen ruckus began in the busy supermarket in Aachen when a 74-year-old man and a 35-year-old woman both wanted a shopping trolley, leading to a wrestling match between the two. This was ended when the woman's 24-year-old brother punched the man, knocking him over.

They then took the trolley into the supermarket.

But the elderly man wasn't going to give up without a fight, and followed them inside, confronting them at the cheese counter.

He attacked the woman's brother with a salami - before the siblings' mother stepped in to fend him off with a 4lb chunk of Parmesan. The 74-year-old then pushed her against the counter's glass top, causing her to hit her head.

At this point, police arrived to break up the food fight. Two of the combatants were taken to the hospital with minor injuries.

The trolley is not thought to have been harmed in the fracas."


The unasked and unanswered question is this: what became of the salami and the cheese? It makes one consider whose on the side of the victims in cases like these. Victims who cannot speak for or defend themselves.


In a global society replete with technological and scientific advances, it is shameful that our societal ethics do not include compassion for the plight of those things, however inanimate they may be, less fortunate than ourselves. Let this be a lesson to us all this holiday season.


As Martin Luther King once said, "An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity [and deli products]."

(Okay, so I added the part in brackets. I'm sure Martin wouldn't mind.)

Please, please, don't make the cheese (and salami) stand alone...

The Sundwall World

It's been six long months since my last entry. I think we need to get reacquainted.

My name is Mara Sundwall and this is my world. Complete with an oversized set of mailboxes. The other people that you can hardly see in the picture are the biggest part of my world: my hubby and my kids. I kinda like these guys.

So many amazing things have happened over the past six months. It's almost embarrassing (depressing?) to think of how many memories I've neglected to write about. Childhood only happens once.

So I'm recommitting to updating my blog no less than once a week.

My sense of gratitude this holiday season is at an all-time high. I feel so incredibly blessed; I can't think of anything I could possibly ask for. In fact, I need less than I already have.

I'll be back...