Band track car spring

No, they are not just random words (Jenni, I am reminded of "Cheese-making beef eggs" for some reason)

Yesterday was one of those days when I wish I was two people, or that I could be two places at one time. Hayley had an honor band concert and Paul had a track meet (at my alma mater!). I chose to go to the band concert because Hayley needed me to drive her there and I wouldn't have returned from seeing Paul run in his races if I had gone to the track meet.

Here is Hayley. She looks very serious.
The honor band did a wonderful job as usual. In two weeks her regular 7th grade band will have their spring concert. She'll play bassoon (or balloon or buffoon) in concert for the first time!

On to track. Paul texted me as we were driving to the band concert that he finished 8th in the 1600m race, broke his high school's sophomore 1600m record with a 4:47 time, and with a time under 4:50, joined his high school's "Millenium Team" (I don't know what that means, other than he gets another patch for his letter jacket. And if no one else breaks his record, he gets a "record-breaker" patch for his letter jacket too), and became the top miler overall on the team, beating out even the senior runner, Justen, who was previously the team's top runner in the 1600m. So, go Paul! The next two pictures are from the meet (at my high school) and were taken by some parents who go to all the meets. So, courtesy of Stephen B's parents (I think), here are two pictures of Paul running:

When we got home from the band concert, lo and behold, angels were singing the rapturous songs of someone's car being cleaned without having been asked, told, threatened, or evil-eyed.The motivation for this cleaning was probably PROM, which is coming up this Saturday (oooh, boy, you'll be in for some serious picture viewing! Other Jim will be wearing a tux for the third time in his life!)

And here, folks, we have the beginnings of.......A GOATEE. (facepalm) Egads. He will NOT be sporting that at prom (I hope).
And for my own personal enjoyment, lilacs and apple blossoms!

Catching up

Laundry. Enough said.

However, I can say more about the trip. But not much more. We stopped at Art and Karen's house for dinner on Sunday night. Karen heard we were going to be out in UT and the minute she heard, she texted Katie asked when we were available to come over. She sure makes a person, even a related-through-marriage person and mother-of-the-person-related-through-marraige person, feel welcome. We had good conversation over dinner and after dinner. And Karen took this picture.
(ps. The sippy cup wasn't mine, I swear)

I'm still suffering from vacation brain. My grocery trip yesterday was only partially successful as in I purchased food for yesterday's dinner. However, I have not even considered what I was going to fix for the rest of the week. And the only reason I thought about dinner yesterday was because I had to make a dinner for another family. So I am going to resort to seeing what there is in the pantry (aka sewing room) and make something up.

Utah trip

So I'm back.

I went out to Utah for several days and hardly took any pictures! On the day I wanted to take pictures, I forgot the camera. That was the day Mom and I went downtown with Katie. The flowers on Temple Square were gorgeous and I could have spent hours taking pictures of them--so you are spared looking at that.

I did take a couple of Katie in her kitchen. Here is one:The other girl in the picture is Katie's roommate, Julia.

Katie made smoothies for us.
We went to Deseret Industries (DI) twice. Mom has a thing for thrift stores and wanted to check out the Utah version. She was impressed. We got Katie a lamp and end table because Katie's living room has no overhead light and she likes to cross-stitch while watching TV at night. She needed light. The whole ensemble cost $17.
This is the view out Katie's dining room window. The library is across the street.
On the day we went downtown with Katie, we happened upon a small Japanese festival. If I had had my big camera, I would have taken pictures of the people dressed up in anime costuming, not because I like anime or think the people were cute, but because Hayley likes it and would have found the festival interesting.

I wasn't going to get the kids presents but I couldn't resist getting Hayley a dress at the Japanese festival. I guessed the size and I was right! She loves the dress. So I had to buy stuff for the other kids and Jim too.

The highlight of the vacation was actually a last-minute scramble. On Sunday, Katie wanted to go to church early so she could practice the organ before the meeting. She hadn't had a chance to do so during the week. So we got there half an hour before church--12:30. As we were getting out of the car, Katie got a phone call from the music director, who told Kate that the special musical number fell through and could Katie play an intermediate hymn? Katie said ok. Then my mom suggested that Katie sing a solo. By this time we were in the chapel. Katie said that she might have a solo in the car and she went to check. Sure enough, she had the music in her car. She went to get it photo copied so that she had a copy to sing from and Mom had one to play. Katie asked that in exchange for singing a solo last minute, could Mom and I play the organ for her? The opening and closing songs were tough ones but Mom said she would do it and I could play the sacrament hymn. Katie was nervous before singing, mostly because she and mom were only able to run through it twice, and one of those times was to see if Mom could play it. But she was a trooper and sang her little guts out. She did a wonderful job and received lots of compliments. I was so glad to hear her sing!

I was glad to see Katie in her environment and meet her roommate. Julia is a very nice girl and very friendly. But now I'm back and glad to be here too.

Brace yourself

Hayley now has braces on her top teeth! She'll be getting braces on the bottom in a few months when her top teeth have moved a little. I don't know all the whys and wherefores of putting the bottom ones on later, but it has something to do with her bite.
She was excited to get them on finally. She's been asking for braces since Paul got his on. She did miss the state assessment testing that is going on at the school, but HONESTLY, when I made the appointment several MONTHS ago, mandatory state testing wasn't even on my mind. I did not think to consider, "When will Hayley be taking the MCAs? Perhaps I should schedule around them." I'm not a fan of assessment testing anyway. Does the child do well in school generally? Yes. Then she's fine. Jen, want to chime in on state assessments--real reason for and what does it measure exactly?

ANYWAY, Hayley has braces.

And I'm in Utah. And I won't be blogging for a little while. But don't think you can come over to my house and break in and steal stuff, cuz the rest of the family is still here. I'm the only one who went to Utah. Oh, my mom came with me, but she doesn't live in my house. And no you can't go over to her house and steal her stuff. That would be mean. And she would be mad. Believe me, I've seen her get mad when I was a kid and you don't want to see her mad.

I haven't talked about shoes lately

While I know it's a very trivial subject, I feel I have strayed from one of the purposes of this blog, which was to publicly adore shoes.

I just bought some sandals yesterday. I haven't had sandals in a few years and I wanted something that would be airy during those hot 'n humid days.

These were waiting for me at Kohl's. They called my name, "Oh, Shoebox Princess! We know you're here! Come get us! We are sandals in need of feet to hug! You haven't bought new shoes in nearly a year! It's time! Get out your money and buy some sweet sweet love for your tootsies!"
Most sandals look wretched on the sausages I call feet, and my toes are always grotesque, mostly because I can't bring myself to spend money on a pedicure when kids need braces (see tomorrow's post--tomorrow of course. You can't see it today) and partially because my toenails grow at odd angles and my pinkie toenails are all but nonexistent. It's true. Ask my family members, who used to tease me about them so much that I have developed some insecurity about them. But these camouflage my toes so no one has to look at their hideous, unpedicured disfigurements.

These sandals are comfortable too. I wore them all last night and most of today and I have yet to develop a blister. No chafing, no swelling, no tired arches, no pinched toes. All good! And because of the ankle strap, they don't flop around and whap at my heels!

If you have managed to read this far, I applaud you. And I want to share with you a website for those with shoe fetishes: GO HERE

Track record

This just in courtesy of a phone call from Jim, who was able to watch the race in person up in Roseville (near his work):

Paul ran a 4:49 in the 1600m! That's his new personal record, and it's only one measly second off the sophomore record for his track team.

He is pretty pleased with himself. He was just a wee smidge behind their team's #1 runner.

I am sad that I was not able to go. But I was glad that Jim was there to see it. And I was glad to hear that Paul asked his dad to call me and tell me right away.

There are no pictures from the race because Jim forgot to take the camera. He really needs a little point-and-shoot one to keep in his briefcase.

Piles and a gross sock

I'm in project mode. It started with my newest class. I have an assignment to reflect in writing on my letter-writing experiences. I'm supposed to quote from some of my letters. In order to avoid doing what I'm supposed to but still make myself think that I'm doing it, I chose to get out old letters that people have sent to me and organize them into piles.
Pile #1 is in a dark blue binder. These are letters from my sister Jenni. They are in order, but will be added to once I get through all the letters. But for now, they comprise letters from 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, and 1997. And even one or two from 1989.

Pile #2 is made up from letters from my mother.

#3 is a grouping of letters from Jim's family: his dad, his mom, his grandma Wright, and his sisters.

#4 is a slew of letters from my college and high school friends (only one of them wrote me after 1990, and even so, I haven't heard from her in 10 years) and from my grandparents.

#5 is a pile of secret mushy letters from one lovebird to another and vice versa when they were separated by 2000+ miles over the course of one summer (1988) (and no you can't read them).

#6 is a pile that I didn't know would exist. I had forgotten that at one time, my brothers wrote letters to me. One is Mike's famous list of acceptable names for what would eventually be Katie. And another letter describes my niece Morgan on the day of her birth as the proud new owner of an uncle named Mike.

#7 is a collection of some of Jim's mission stuff that somehow got mixed up in the letter box.

#8 is a pile of letters from my dad. Recognize the letterhead, Dad? If you can't read it, try clicking on the picture so it will show up larger.

So that was ONE SHOEBOX. ONE! Here are the rest:

These letters are all really old. It's been fun glancing over history, except for those letters when Mom yelled at me for being financially airheaded. I cringed more than once. But then I say to myself, Look how much has happened since then! We've made it through all those difficult years!

Sigh, however. I still have a lot of organizing to do. I'm going to arrange the letters chronologically (Piles #2, 3, and 8) The rest will be put into binders and organized in whatever way I fancy when I do it.

And for your viewing displeasure, here is a picture of a particularly nasty sock.

Matt obviously needs some new footwear. Sidenote: he refuses to go barefoot. Ever. Yuck.

Running in ovals

Track again. This meet was called the Pony Relays, but inexplicably, not a single pony was involved! Even MORE inexplicable were some of the events: the Shot Put relay, the triple jump relay, the pole vault relay, and the discus relay. I'd like to see the shot putters run around a track with a shot put and passing it on to the next guy. And how do you do a discus relay--throw the discus to the next guy and expect him to catch it? Pole vaulting--do you run with your pole and stab the next guy in the back?

har har har. Paul tried to explain it to me but he's no good at explanations. "See they don't really run. They um they um throw and then add everything up. Yeah."

Translation: Each team is allowed to bring 3 guys per non-running event (4 for track events). For the field events, the athletes throw the discus (shot put) (or they do the high jump, pole vault, triple jump) and the scores for the three (or four, depending on the event) teammates are combined and compared against the combined score of other high schools.

The exception to this is the Weightmens relay in which the throwers (shot put or discus) actually run a 4 x 100m relay race with a baton. What the heck? They make the guys who can't run do some running in a race situation? What is the point of having them run a race? The fastest Weightmen team would have come in dead last if they had competed against the regular 4 x 100m teams.

Anyway, Paul ran in the 3200m relay (no baton passing cuz that would be a nearly 50 minute race if they all ran one at a time) and he and his three teammates all achieved personal records. That's right, folks, Paul finally ran the two mile in under 11 minutes. His new personal best is 10:55! His team placed fourth by .7 seconds! I told him he should have run faster. Then said, Just kidding--good job! (But he should have run faster) (wink) His team's combined time was 41:55.70.

Then he ran the 1600m relay too, only THIS time, they had to have batons and pass it to the next runner. So this race DID take a while--nearly 22 minutes, although Paul's team ran it in 20:28.40. Paul ran his leg in 5:11. Not his fastest, but I like to keep in mind that he had run the 3200m just an hour or so earlier. Funny thing is, none of them knew that they had to run it with a baton. Even their coach didn't know. So they had no practice handing off the baton.

So that's your sports report for today.

In other news, Hayley volunteered at the school carnival, Matt played with a friend, OJ talked on the phone for a REAL long time, I avoided falling over a couple of times, and Jim fertilized the lawn.

Born to run

Guess what season it is? That's right, it's Taking Pictures of Paul Running season again. Yesterday afternoon, the boys' track team had a home meet so I was able to go without having to drive miles and miles and miles.

He got some new track spikes because he outgrew his old ones. He chose green and gold. And his weren't the most outrageously colored track shoes on the asphalt either. I saw a pair of neon orange spikes on some otherwise normal-looking teenage boy's feet. It seems to me that track shoes are the one type of men's footwear that comes in loud colors.
And he's off.And he finishes!

I can't even remember what place he came in because I was too busy messing with the camera. Anyway, he ran slow; the whole bunch of them ran slow. I can't remember the last time the team's top distance runner got over 11 minutes, and he did this meet. Paul claims it's because they didn't really warm up. The meet ran ahead of schedule and he was in the bathroom when he heard "last call for the 3200m" over the loudspeakers.

Shhhhhhhhhh.....

Out of extreme boredom (both mine and Fake Child's) I was helping FC sound out words in the book Stop That Ball. (I love that book because my CA grandparents had it at their house in Simi Valley and I loved to look at the ball and follow its misadventures through the little town).

Anyway, I told FC to pick a word on the first page to sound out. She pointed to one; I was sitting across the room from her (my laziness extends far and wide) so I couldn't see which word she had picked out. Other Jim was at the kitchen counter eating some leftover spaghetti. FC mumbled the sounds to herself and then she looked at me. I asked her if she was able to sound the word out, and she nodded her head.

"OK," I asked. "What does it say?"

"S**t!"

OJ nearly projectile spit his spaghetti across the room and collapsed laughing into the nearly empty plate before him. I managed to keep a straight face, although I'm sure my stomach, pancreas, liver, kidneys, and other assorted internal organs were busting their own guts laughing.

Ummm. She meant "hit." Unfortunately, she thought the letter "h" made the "sh" sound.

I think she recognized the word as possibly one of those that is best not used, but I just told her that I didn't think that was the word she was trying to sound out. I had her tell me the letters in the word, and indeed, it was "hit." We made the necessary pronunciation corrections and all is well now.

Although I think I won't be reading Stop that Ball anytime soon.

Clockwise

I took Hayley to Target yesterday to buy her a new swimming suit and a watch. In the jewelry department, we sought out the watches and as we went down the first aisle of watches, she looked at the offerings and said, "I don't want a NICE watch."

You want a not-nice watch? An ugly watch? A used, dirty, slimy, icky watch? I had a good laugh at her expense after telling her that Target probably doesn't sell watches that are the opposite of "nice," and she joined in with a few giggles, after she realized that she had not adequately communicated what she was thinking.

What she meant was that she didn't want a shiny gold or silver watch that looked like it was "for show" or "looked like it was also doubling as jewelry." She wanted a timepiece with a cheap plastic and velcro watchband. Yes, a not-nice watch.

Enjoy every moment

I blog surf, as I've mentioned before, and the type of blogs I come across in the blogging moms universe more often than not promote the idea that life should be enjoyed EVERY MINUTE OF THE DAY!!! These blogs are mostly written by mothers with small children.

I am sorry, but I don't think we are supposed to enjoy every moment. Life with little kids is supposed to be hard. If it's not hard, then either we have pretend children, or we are not parenting. We could be grandparenting though. I hear that is more in line with the "enjoy every moment" style, mostly because grandparents don't have to be there EVERY moment. Most grandparents can hand the child back after a while and say, "Here you go! You may deal with him now that I've squeezed out of him all the fun I can stand." Grandparents are supposed to be fun. I remember both my sets of grandparents as being much more fun than my parents. One grandma (the MN one) ALWAYS had candy on hand and we were allowed (as long as we asked and it wasn't too close to dinner time, say within 5 minutes) to eat as much as we wanted. She also had sugared cereal, with my mother wouldn't allow within 100 yards of the house. My other grandma (the CA one) always had gum for our use (another thing my mother wouldn't let us have). My CA grandparents also took us to movies all the time. Grandparenting is the only style of parenting that should be non-stop enjoyment.

Non-stop enjoyment can be tiring. I can't imagine having to think up the sheer number of activities that will create "MEMORIES!" enough to fill every waking moment. I'd be up all night. And despite the claim that crafting with kids, or making learning fun with kids, or going out and seeing the sights with the kids is cheap, nonstop cheap activities can add up to be expensive. Cheap is not doing anything and telling them to go play in their rooms with the toys they have. And creative is telling them to make up new stories with the toys they already have.

Enjoying every minute means I have to love cleaning up spilled milk and snot and vomit and stepping on tiny Lego bricks that hide in the carpet fibers. It means I have to enjoy the tantrums (a kid that is made to enjoy every second of the day WILL have tantrums). It also means I would have to smile and laugh at every single booger joke repeated a thousand times by a humor-impaired four-year old. No, thank you! I would go nuts if I had to enjoy any of that.

Not everything a child does is precious, brilliant, clever, or beautiful. Sometimes, children are mean, defiant, and kind of dumb (I recently saw a video clip of a kid who was afraid of his shadow, literally). One of my own children flushed his own toys down the toilet and then cried because they were gone. Hello? Does that smack of high intelligence? And as for a child's creative output being consistently beautiful, witness the child who dresses himself or herself. I've had a laugh more times than I can count from beholding odd combinations of shirt and pants (or lack of either) my children put on their bodies.

It's ok not to like parenting sometimes. It isn't supposed to be easy. It isn't supposed to be all fun and games. Neither parent or child will learn anything of value from constant happiness. I'd like to modify the "enjoy every moment" slogan to "enjoy some of the moments and then get on each other's nerves for a bit."

Thank you for letting me get that little rant out of my system. Feel free to insist that I am either a really bad parent, ungrateful for the precious little ones that I had once, or that I obviously didn't recognize the honor of being a mother.

Linkage

I found a fun new website to keep up with (I'd been looking for something since Stephanie O'Dea finished her 365 days of using a slow cooker). This woman has made a year-long commitment to shop for clothes only at flea markets and garage sales. She has given herself a budget of $1 a day and she will repurpose, alter, dye or restyle an old garment into something new. Read about her mission here (New Dress A Day). Some of the dresses she finds are truly hideous, but she manages to look good in her refurbishments (it helps that she's wicked skinny). I'd love to try this too, but question my ability to commit to a year-long mission such as this. It would be fun to try something like this, though.

Ultimate pictures

Ultimate Frisbee pictures, that is. (I am refraining from comments because the pictures pretty much speak for themselves. And I have nothing else to say today)





And these two are because I like Spring.

We're not dead yet

This post is for Katie, who I believe is trying to send Jim and me to an early grave by sending us miserably hard puzzles.

Once again, Katie, we have survived your attempt at patricide/matricide! Witness:
Actually this one was easier than the M & M puzzle, but not by much. The jellybeans were larger, so much so that it took 3-6 puzzle pieces to make one jellybean. The other puzzle had 3-4 M & Ms on each puzzle piece.

Warning for Katie (and anyone else) Do not send us a puzzle of the Beatles' White Album. If you disobey, then no more care packages from me ever!

Woe to Paul

Paul has hypodontia.

He went in for his ortho appointment and the orthodontist informed Paul that he has no wisdom teeth and will never have them. Poor Paul! He won't have the pleasure of being loopy without realizing it, and trying to prove he's a manly guy by going to work/school the same day as his extraction (like OJ did, or in the case of school, TRIED to do but I wouldn't let him). And Jim and I lose the opportunity of emptying our wallets as an offering to Maxillarius and Mandibularus, the gods of supernumary teeth (two of the lesser gods in the pantheon of mighty beings who rule over life with teenagers). Alas.

The good news is that the braces are doing the job and will be on only for another nine months.

More on eggs

An assortment of pictures from Mom's annual Saturday Easter Brunch and Egg Hunt (in which there are always WAY too many candy-filled plastic eggs)

The table decor:
Mike shows me a new pair of pants.
Jake made great food. Poached eggs on hash was the main feature.
Some boys get ready to dig in.
But Vi prefers apron strings.
The kids' table
Vi and Grandma
Owen had fun with a new toy he found.
Annie found some dried flowers
Mimi climbs the railing.
And the egg hunt is on! Annie finds one to add to her already full bucket.
Maya looks for eggs.
Owen finds an egg

Paint on my hands

This little thing rolled over to my house yesterday (Friday). She is such a dolly. I gave her Cheerios, which I hear from her mother (who tagged along) is a first. Vi didn't know what to make of the Cheerios. She gummed a few and gagged on a few. I took better pics with Jen's camera, especially the shot of Vi with a Cheerio mole.
Jen gets down to business with the craft she was in charge of bringing: beribboned eggs. We both burned ourselves on the hot glue gun. Wah for us!
This is what my ribbon egg turned out likeKind of tulip-bulb-y.

Jen is very proud of her craftiness.

My craft involved painting candlesticks and wooden eggs. I used up nearly a whole can of spray paint on the sticks because I wanted them to have the look of being painted over and over again. Pay no attention to the hose in the background. Or the drainpipe. Or the satellite dish cable.One thing I learned about these bare wood craft candlesticks--they don't hold spray paint very well. I wasted a lot of paint and time trying to get the paint to stick on but it just dripped of into the drop cloth. I realized I had to prime first. That worked much better. Then the spray paint stuck.

This was the end result of my craft labors. My beribboned bouquet of eggs on sticks:
and my painted eggs on candlesticks with little flowers.
After we finished crafting and while Vi was hogging my bed, Jen and I chatted. While we chatted I fiddled with the hot glue gun, some plastic eggs, and some silk and paper flowers. The result:Today we are off to the annual egg hunt and brunch at Grandma's, a highlight of the year for the grandkids. I have special silver eggs for the big kids and there will be many many little eggs for the little kids to find. I was barred from bringing any food to the brunch and am now questioning my family's perception of my cooking skills. Of course in comparison to the chef brothers, my cooking sucks rocks. But at least I know that I can make potato salad worthy of everyone's palate. And squash buns. But I was not invited to bring either one. Woe is me. (not really)