Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Easter, sans bonnets
I love Easter. I don't love that old-fashioned Easter song that went something like this: "Put on your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it..." My Grandma Stabler used to sing it every Easter. Really loudly. I pray that someday, senility willing, it will be purged from my memory completely.
We had a fabulous weekend with Judah, Keslie and the kids visiting from the tri-cities, and Anna and Dave and their clan around as well. The kids always revel in each other's company. It's such a blessing to have so many cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents as a regular part of their lives.
Equally as wonderful was the opportunity to watch conference over Easter weekend. The kids all graciously provided relative peace and serenity, making it possible for us to watch three of the four sessions. I can't wait to read all the talks again. It was impressive (and humbling) to hear so much said about the home and family.
Here's some pics to sum up the weekend:
Various cousins prepping for the big Easter egg hunt.
Sweet-faced Maylie, smiley as always.
Judah introduced us to a new Easter tradition, however disturbing it may be. We've now expanded the traditional Easter egg hunt to include a "gross out" version. Everyone stuffs five eggs with the grossest things they can find (and that fit into a plastic egg!). The eggs are then hidden and the one who finds the grossest egg wins a prize. Incidentally, Asher won with a mashed hard-boiled egg-filled egg.
Easter morning. Getting my kids to pose for a picture is murderous. And apparently impossible.
Asher in his Happy Meal box converted into a horn-laden helmet. What will Ronald think up next?
The clan, undoubtedly plotting out their next wayward adventure...
We had a fabulous weekend with Judah, Keslie and the kids visiting from the tri-cities, and Anna and Dave and their clan around as well. The kids always revel in each other's company. It's such a blessing to have so many cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents as a regular part of their lives.
Equally as wonderful was the opportunity to watch conference over Easter weekend. The kids all graciously provided relative peace and serenity, making it possible for us to watch three of the four sessions. I can't wait to read all the talks again. It was impressive (and humbling) to hear so much said about the home and family.
Here's some pics to sum up the weekend:
Various cousins prepping for the big Easter egg hunt.
Sweet-faced Maylie, smiley as always.
Judah introduced us to a new Easter tradition, however disturbing it may be. We've now expanded the traditional Easter egg hunt to include a "gross out" version. Everyone stuffs five eggs with the grossest things they can find (and that fit into a plastic egg!). The eggs are then hidden and the one who finds the grossest egg wins a prize. Incidentally, Asher won with a mashed hard-boiled egg-filled egg.
Easter morning. Getting my kids to pose for a picture is murderous. And apparently impossible.
Asher in his Happy Meal box converted into a horn-laden helmet. What will Ronald think up next?
The clan, undoubtedly plotting out their next wayward adventure... Thursday, April 8, 2010
Nature's great analogies
Spring weather in Seattle is antithetical to predictability.
Case in point, we awoke this morning to an inch of snow and experienced additional snow showers, several hailstorms, some wind and occasional sunbreaks throughout the day. If Mother Nature's seasons were aligned with human emotional disorders, I'd say spring is her bipolar persona with all it's fickle, erratic behavior.
Last Friday I had to make a trip to Seattle amidst some heavy winds and turbulent rain showers. Upon my return, traffic was incredibly slow making its way onto the I-90 floating bridge, but I thought it was well worth the wait. The view was impressive.
The dissimilarity between the waves crashing over the roadway on the south side of the bridge and the calm waters on the north side provided a contradictory distinction. It's amazing what a little protection from the wind and the waves can do, not only for the waters, but for the soul. I'm grateful for the spiritual barriers in my life, namely scripture study and prayer, that protect me from turbulence and provide peace and hope.
As I continued up I-90, a tree fell across the highway about 100 yards ahead of me. Luckily, no one was directly in it's path when it fell, but as you can see it was the cause of much braking and re-routing.
If I could only be so quick to recognize and correct my own course accordingly when life's proverbial road blocks occur. I'm grateful for the Holy Ghost to guide me; I'd never make it on my own.
Case in point, we awoke this morning to an inch of snow and experienced additional snow showers, several hailstorms, some wind and occasional sunbreaks throughout the day. If Mother Nature's seasons were aligned with human emotional disorders, I'd say spring is her bipolar persona with all it's fickle, erratic behavior.
Last Friday I had to make a trip to Seattle amidst some heavy winds and turbulent rain showers. Upon my return, traffic was incredibly slow making its way onto the I-90 floating bridge, but I thought it was well worth the wait. The view was impressive.
The dissimilarity between the waves crashing over the roadway on the south side of the bridge and the calm waters on the north side provided a contradictory distinction. It's amazing what a little protection from the wind and the waves can do, not only for the waters, but for the soul. I'm grateful for the spiritual barriers in my life, namely scripture study and prayer, that protect me from turbulence and provide peace and hope.
As I continued up I-90, a tree fell across the highway about 100 yards ahead of me. Luckily, no one was directly in it's path when it fell, but as you can see it was the cause of much braking and re-routing.
If I could only be so quick to recognize and correct my own course accordingly when life's proverbial road blocks occur. I'm grateful for the Holy Ghost to guide me; I'd never make it on my own.
All things considered, I'm glad Mother Nature's a bit moody this time of year. Through her many subtle lessons, she provides a gracious reminder to me of how much I need to be prepared.
Friday, April 2, 2010
My celebrity look-alike
Everyone has a celebrity look-alike, or at least that's what one of my college roommates emphatically maintained. So one day I asked her who she would consider to be my celebrity look-alike. She became suddenly silent and uneasy, and then charged into a diatriabe about her latest telephone bill.
I knew it. I was the single living human being who did not have a celebrity look-alike. Well, perhaps me and the ginger midget from the Sherlock Holmes movie. Ginger midgets are hard to come by.
But wait! After nearly twenty years of muddling through life without a superstar twin, I finally saw the light (or, more correctly, the black light). Storm, the X-Men's mutant femme fetale, is my celeb clone!
Sort of.
True, both of our heads glow in unnatural lighting. However...
She has super cool powers initiated by rampant mood swings; I just have the mood swings.
She has a curvaceous figure in her tight faux leather bodysuit; I can't leave my house in spandex and if my bra size were a letter grade, I'd be scholarship material.
She hangs with beefy tough guys; I hang with pre-pubescent guys that I can still flip over my shoulder.
She fights bad guys; I fight bad attitudes, bad breath and frequent bad hair days (she has a stylist -- so not fair).
She has a cape; I have saddle bags.
She has dark, exotic skin; I glow in any light, particularly sunlight and flourescent lighting.
She gets paid for faking stuff; I don't get paid for doing real stuff. Sometimes really hard real stuff.
She looks angry a lot; oh wait! So do I!
Man, do I feel a kinship growing...
I knew it. I was the single living human being who did not have a celebrity look-alike. Well, perhaps me and the ginger midget from the Sherlock Holmes movie. Ginger midgets are hard to come by.
But wait! After nearly twenty years of muddling through life without a superstar twin, I finally saw the light (or, more correctly, the black light). Storm, the X-Men's mutant femme fetale, is my celeb clone!
Sort of.
True, both of our heads glow in unnatural lighting. However...
She has super cool powers initiated by rampant mood swings; I just have the mood swings.
She has a curvaceous figure in her tight faux leather bodysuit; I can't leave my house in spandex and if my bra size were a letter grade, I'd be scholarship material.
She hangs with beefy tough guys; I hang with pre-pubescent guys that I can still flip over my shoulder.
She fights bad guys; I fight bad attitudes, bad breath and frequent bad hair days (she has a stylist -- so not fair).
She has a cape; I have saddle bags.
She has dark, exotic skin; I glow in any light, particularly sunlight and flourescent lighting.
She gets paid for faking stuff; I don't get paid for doing real stuff. Sometimes really hard real stuff.
She looks angry a lot; oh wait! So do I!
Man, do I feel a kinship growing...
Monday, March 29, 2010
Tuckela and the bee
(Tucker is not going to be amused that I used the title my friend Jen assigned to his adventures in the Spelling Bee finals as my blog post title, but I thought it was pretty funny. :)
Tucker took second place in the Fourth grade spelling bee this past Friday night. He misspelled the word, "manicure." We were right proud he didn't know how to spell such a girly word. No 9-year-old boy should know things like that!! The prize was a gift certificate to Barnes & Noble. I feel a mother/son date night coming on...
We're proud of our Tucker. He's a great kid!
Tucker took second place in the Fourth grade spelling bee this past Friday night. He misspelled the word, "manicure." We were right proud he didn't know how to spell such a girly word. No 9-year-old boy should know things like that!! The prize was a gift certificate to Barnes & Noble. I feel a mother/son date night coming on...
We're proud of our Tucker. He's a great kid!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Riding in cars with children
I am the mother of four mid-agers, referring to children who are post-diaper/imaginary friend stage and pre-mustache/armpit hair/"can I have the keys?" stage.
Due to what I can only attribute to be the increased size of their craniums and the mounting need to fill those orbs with busyness, the activities my children currently participate in have increased to an alarming number. (It has been scientifically proven that children's brains do grow proportionate to the size of their bodies, even if they sometimes act like their brains have shrunk to the size of a dehydrated blueberry.) We have two in baseball, one in kid cardio, two in Scouts, one in Young Women's, three with paper routes, one in yearbook, one in piano, another in guitar...you get the gist.
A word in my defense: I didn't ask for this lunacy. I typically encourage our children to participate in a minimal number of extra-curricular activities because I am a borderline slacker teetering on the edge of slothfulness myself. And yet they insist on having their own interests, propagating a new vocation for me: Taxi Mom.
I know this description usually incites a shudder in mommies everywhere, but take courage! I have found the proverbial silver-stitching in my cabby's hat. While perpetually driving these busy little people to and fro, I have found many an opportunity to not only hear what's clattering around in those growing skulls, but to be thoroughly entertained by the creativity drawn out by sheer in-car boredom.
Once again, to illustrate my point, I rely on a harvest of photos taken with my pocket-size Sony cyber-shot. While the quality is debatable at best, I do get shots that would otherwise have been lost while prepping my more laborious Canon.
Katelyn took this shot of four Toyota Siennas lined up in a local parking lot. Her reaction to this strange occurrence was one of amazement; a humble reminder to me to look around a little more and find wonder in life's inconsistencies.
Tucker takes guitar lessons every Friday afternoon. While he has his lesson, I sit in the car and chill with whatever offspring happens to be along. On this particular day it happened to be Kalli and her cousin, Macy. Finding themselves imprisoned in a Sequoia with nothing but a change of Tanner's clothing and a dog to entertain themselves (I was off-duty in the front seat, thrust into a pivotal chapter in my book), they went to work. It took quite a bit of teamwork to restrain the dog long enough to fully clothe him, but here is the result, beanie hat and all. (Let it be noted that the green and white shorts under the red shirt are Tanner's boxers.)
Sometimes its the actual act of getting INTO the car that can be humorous. Like when we're about to leave and Katelyn notices that someone's hair is unfit for social presentation. She has been known to attack a male sibling spontaneously from behind and work quick magic with a spray bottle and comb. The male sibling is rarely amused. However, I give Kate silent kudos for taking care of an unpleasant task I'd otherwise be responsible for.
Wednesdays are the craziest. I literally and without exaggeration pulled in and back out of my driveway nine times last Wednesday. While waiting for Katelyn (and Kalli and her little friend who pitched in to help) to complete her paper route, I sat in the car and stared glassy-eyed out the window at this beautiful little piece of real estate. I had a mommy fantasy: I was lying on a soft blanket under the little tree reading a great book and eating dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds. And then a wayward rolled newspaper hit the windshield, jarring me back to reality.
I call this one, "Why wait until we get home when there's nothing better to do in the car?" After hitting Petsmart for yet another doggy toothbrush and toothpaste, Katelyn saw fit to brush the dog's teeth in the car so that I could experience, up close, how fresh his breath was after brushing.
The same trip to Petsmart yielded a new fishbowl for Katelyn's new goldfish. The previous goldfish lasted an entire 10 days. And yet here she is, back in the ring for another round of aquatic life and death. Her new fish, named Gumbo, was securely seat-belted in his plastic baggy in the back seat thanks to Tucker and Kalli. Katelyn opted to use the fishbowl as an acoustic device into which she sang loudly most of the way home. Because hey, why not?
Due to what I can only attribute to be the increased size of their craniums and the mounting need to fill those orbs with busyness, the activities my children currently participate in have increased to an alarming number. (It has been scientifically proven that children's brains do grow proportionate to the size of their bodies, even if they sometimes act like their brains have shrunk to the size of a dehydrated blueberry.) We have two in baseball, one in kid cardio, two in Scouts, one in Young Women's, three with paper routes, one in yearbook, one in piano, another in guitar...you get the gist.
A word in my defense: I didn't ask for this lunacy. I typically encourage our children to participate in a minimal number of extra-curricular activities because I am a borderline slacker teetering on the edge of slothfulness myself. And yet they insist on having their own interests, propagating a new vocation for me: Taxi Mom.
I know this description usually incites a shudder in mommies everywhere, but take courage! I have found the proverbial silver-stitching in my cabby's hat. While perpetually driving these busy little people to and fro, I have found many an opportunity to not only hear what's clattering around in those growing skulls, but to be thoroughly entertained by the creativity drawn out by sheer in-car boredom.
Once again, to illustrate my point, I rely on a harvest of photos taken with my pocket-size Sony cyber-shot. While the quality is debatable at best, I do get shots that would otherwise have been lost while prepping my more laborious Canon.
Katelyn took this shot of four Toyota Siennas lined up in a local parking lot. Her reaction to this strange occurrence was one of amazement; a humble reminder to me to look around a little more and find wonder in life's inconsistencies.
I drive middle school carpool in the afternoon once a week and every time we drop Abby off, Katelyn looks longingly at her neighbor's mini kiddie-coaster perched on the sidewalk. One day Kate ordered me to pull over. She sprang from the car and gave it a whirl. I caught the faintest glimpse of my tiny Kate on her four-wheeled plastic ride toy screaming down the hill in front of our home almost a decade ago. I love that Kate's girlish zeal is still fully intact, even if it is encased in a larger body.
Tucker takes guitar lessons every Friday afternoon. While he has his lesson, I sit in the car and chill with whatever offspring happens to be along. On this particular day it happened to be Kalli and her cousin, Macy. Finding themselves imprisoned in a Sequoia with nothing but a change of Tanner's clothing and a dog to entertain themselves (I was off-duty in the front seat, thrust into a pivotal chapter in my book), they went to work. It took quite a bit of teamwork to restrain the dog long enough to fully clothe him, but here is the result, beanie hat and all. (Let it be noted that the green and white shorts under the red shirt are Tanner's boxers.)
Sometimes its the actual act of getting INTO the car that can be humorous. Like when we're about to leave and Katelyn notices that someone's hair is unfit for social presentation. She has been known to attack a male sibling spontaneously from behind and work quick magic with a spray bottle and comb. The male sibling is rarely amused. However, I give Kate silent kudos for taking care of an unpleasant task I'd otherwise be responsible for.
Wednesdays are the craziest. I literally and without exaggeration pulled in and back out of my driveway nine times last Wednesday. While waiting for Katelyn (and Kalli and her little friend who pitched in to help) to complete her paper route, I sat in the car and stared glassy-eyed out the window at this beautiful little piece of real estate. I had a mommy fantasy: I was lying on a soft blanket under the little tree reading a great book and eating dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds. And then a wayward rolled newspaper hit the windshield, jarring me back to reality.
I call this one, "Why wait until we get home when there's nothing better to do in the car?" After hitting Petsmart for yet another doggy toothbrush and toothpaste, Katelyn saw fit to brush the dog's teeth in the car so that I could experience, up close, how fresh his breath was after brushing.
The same trip to Petsmart yielded a new fishbowl for Katelyn's new goldfish. The previous goldfish lasted an entire 10 days. And yet here she is, back in the ring for another round of aquatic life and death. Her new fish, named Gumbo, was securely seat-belted in his plastic baggy in the back seat thanks to Tucker and Kalli. Katelyn opted to use the fishbowl as an acoustic device into which she sang loudly most of the way home. Because hey, why not?
I recently read that the Chinese pictograph for "busyness" is translated as "heart killing." Disturbing, isn't it? I do believe we can "busy" ourselves right out of really living and into simply existing.
And yet, short of boarding up the house and dashing for the Montana mountains to live out life in a simpler fashion, I don't see much slowing down for our family.
So my objective is this: to find my happiness amidst the busyness. Because, truth be told, I'd rather be sitting in my car chatting with my kids and plotting my next taxi run and tomorrow's crockpot dinner than laying under that tree reading a book all by myself.
And yet, short of boarding up the house and dashing for the Montana mountains to live out life in a simpler fashion, I don't see much slowing down for our family.
So my objective is this: to find my happiness amidst the busyness. Because, truth be told, I'd rather be sitting in my car chatting with my kids and plotting my next taxi run and tomorrow's crockpot dinner than laying under that tree reading a book all by myself.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
What I love
In the bizarre mix of life, often a potpourri of illustrations surpasses mundane explanation.
Here are a few of the quirky things I love:
#1: I love the chaotic combo of kids and cameras. Invariably, after photographing everything from knee caps to raw blue sky, they turn the camera on themselves. The resulting spontaneous self-portraits are often better at catching a child's true character than the keen eye of a master photographer.
Andrew Lewis hamming it up with Tanner in the background.
Katelyn's self-portrait, taken while modeling the boys' new baseball helmet. Look at those eyes...
Kalli (with tongue in deep-concentration mode), a camera, a mirror and fingers in a peace sign. Enough said.
#2: I love the perpetual motion of small bodies (okay, I love it before 8pm. After that it drives me to expose my mommy claws).
Kalli, Cassidy and Erin rocking out in swimsuits and pj bottoms.
#3: I love little bodies that are still young enough to freeze when an adult, in an authoritative voice, yells "FREEZE!"
#4: I love being on the "adult side" of a middle school science project. I offered many words of encouragement but zero help. Sweet justice. I hated middle school science.
Poor Johanna was going nuts. Hence the crazy shaking.
A short break from the insanity of science for another self portrait. Or is that "selfs" portrait?
#5: I love a boy who weighs only slightly more than the pack he is carrying for his first Boy Scout campout.
That's first Boy Scout campout. Cub Scouts was soooo last year.
#6: I love that my kids are not too old for slides...
Here are a few of the quirky things I love:
#1: I love the chaotic combo of kids and cameras. Invariably, after photographing everything from knee caps to raw blue sky, they turn the camera on themselves. The resulting spontaneous self-portraits are often better at catching a child's true character than the keen eye of a master photographer.
Andrew Lewis hamming it up with Tanner in the background.
Katelyn's self-portrait, taken while modeling the boys' new baseball helmet. Look at those eyes...
Kalli (with tongue in deep-concentration mode), a camera, a mirror and fingers in a peace sign. Enough said.#2: I love the perpetual motion of small bodies (okay, I love it before 8pm. After that it drives me to expose my mommy claws).
Kalli, Cassidy and Erin rocking out in swimsuits and pj bottoms.#3: I love little bodies that are still young enough to freeze when an adult, in an authoritative voice, yells "FREEZE!"
#4: I love being on the "adult side" of a middle school science project. I offered many words of encouragement but zero help. Sweet justice. I hated middle school science.
Poor Johanna was going nuts. Hence the crazy shaking.
A short break from the insanity of science for another self portrait. Or is that "selfs" portrait?#5: I love a boy who weighs only slightly more than the pack he is carrying for his first Boy Scout campout.
That's first Boy Scout campout. Cub Scouts was soooo last year.#6: I love that my kids are not too old for slides...
...or too old to take a shortcut back up to the top!
#7: I love that Kalli made the family wait to start the game until she was ready. By ready I assume she meant cranally swathed in bubble wrap, a towel and a piece of curling ribbon.
#8: I love that to kids, most everything is multi-purpose. Bubble wrap indeed does makes an excellent (and audible) kitchen rug.
#9: I love that I spontaneously checked the odometer at just the right moment. I have eagerly been anticipating the 100,000 mile mark on my Sequoia for weeks!
#10: I love that there is no law stating that you have to buy the generic pictures taken of every team in every sports league your child will ever play in. I love that you can line the team up yourself against a wall and ask them to be themselves and the result is 100 times more authentic.
Tucker's 4th grade basketball team, with Coach Dad.
#11: I love that my son will still smile at me upon request, even when I'm holding a camera and even when his friends are watching.
#12: I love that the very first thing my kids wanted to do when we returned from Germany was have their dad open his birthday gifts that they had bought for him.
#7: I love that Kalli made the family wait to start the game until she was ready. By ready I assume she meant cranally swathed in bubble wrap, a towel and a piece of curling ribbon.
#8: I love that to kids, most everything is multi-purpose. Bubble wrap indeed does makes an excellent (and audible) kitchen rug.
#9: I love that I spontaneously checked the odometer at just the right moment. I have eagerly been anticipating the 100,000 mile mark on my Sequoia for weeks!
#10: I love that there is no law stating that you have to buy the generic pictures taken of every team in every sports league your child will ever play in. I love that you can line the team up yourself against a wall and ask them to be themselves and the result is 100 times more authentic.
Tucker's 4th grade basketball team, with Coach Dad.#11: I love that my son will still smile at me upon request, even when I'm holding a camera and even when his friends are watching.
#12: I love that the very first thing my kids wanted to do when we returned from Germany was have their dad open his birthday gifts that they had bought for him.
#13: I love the freckle on the tippy-top of Tucker's left ear. I stared at it with laser focus while trying to not barf as the doctor stitched up the wound incurred by a random windowsill in the boys' bedroom.
We've decided as a family that there is a reason we do not wrestle past the hour of 9pm. Late night emergency room visits make for uncomfortable stitches and sleepyheads the next morning.
#14: I love that my kids can stand entranced for ten minutes while watching a gorilla eat it's excrement but cannot stand for ten seconds while I do their hair.
#15: I love Tanner's love of maps.
#16: I love Tucker and Kalli's love of small spaces. And dirt. And bugs.
#17: I love random nature humor. Like this river otter smashing face first into the glass partition. I love even more that Katelyn caught it on camera.
#18: I love wide-eyed wonder. Like when you get to be a human bird feeder and a bird actually lands on you.
#19: I love that the smallest things can give children the greatest joy. Tanner literally can't wait for summer 2010, because that's when the meerkats make their debut at Woodland Park Zoo.
We've decided as a family that there is a reason we do not wrestle past the hour of 9pm. Late night emergency room visits make for uncomfortable stitches and sleepyheads the next morning.#14: I love that my kids can stand entranced for ten minutes while watching a gorilla eat it's excrement but cannot stand for ten seconds while I do their hair.
#15: I love Tanner's love of maps.
#16: I love Tucker and Kalli's love of small spaces. And dirt. And bugs.
#17: I love random nature humor. Like this river otter smashing face first into the glass partition. I love even more that Katelyn caught it on camera.
#18: I love wide-eyed wonder. Like when you get to be a human bird feeder and a bird actually lands on you.
#19: I love that the smallest things can give children the greatest joy. Tanner literally can't wait for summer 2010, because that's when the meerkats make their debut at Woodland Park Zoo.
#20: I love that God has given us the gift of love, with all it's many amazing applications.
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