300 Seconds

For the first time ever....

2012-01-25T13:14:00.001-08:00

We paid for a family photo. Here's a sampling:

Halloween Costumes

2011-11-01T09:28:00.000-07:00

Canyon: Soldier
Alice: Lieutenant Uhura
Lily: Katniss Everdeen
Jane: Rapunzel from Tangled

Not pictured:
Emily: Effie Trinket (Hunger Games)
Dustin: Haymitch Abernathy (Hunger Games)
(am trying to find picture)

How You Know You're The World's Best Mom. (Or the Worst)

2011-10-26T19:26:00.001-07:00

Pictures From My iphone this past week.

2011-09-26T12:07:00.000-07:00

Dustin's granddad passed away and we made the trip up to Portland to attend the burial and memorial. It was moving and sweet and even though the trip was long (driving) and short (one day to be with family) it was worth it. We will miss Granddad's visits and stories.

In Mt. Shasta on our way to Portland. Eating at the original Black Bear Diner. We were able to eat at Aunt Donna's PB & J Cafe on the way home, which was much appreciated.

Playing with our favorite bestie: Sophie

Canyon, holding the flag that was draped across Granddad's casket at the end of a very moving military ceremony, which included crisp respectful soldiers, taps, bag-pipes, and jets flying low.

Home again in time for water polo on Friday.
Alice & Canyon: Thumbs up. (That's friend Amy).
Lily: not so sure (even though she scored about six times)
Jane: Pleaded and pleaded to play not realizing that in the chaos of kids and a ball and water too deep to stand it would literally kill her.

Remembering.

2011-09-11T17:07:00.001-07:00

That day, ten years ago, was like being underwater in a mountain lake where everything is bright and clear yet every movement is deliberate and it’s difficult to breathe. I sat with my one-year-old daughter in front of the TV and watched in that strange filtered moment as the twin towers fell. I spent the morning there, like the rest of the world, glued to the television. My thoughts were cluttered as I tried to make sense of the encompassing tragedy.

The day was strange, like a holiday, but cheerless. It seemed the world had come to a screeching halt. Yet, there was one thing I did that day to ground me to the old life, the life before September 11^th. I went to piano lessons and that act of normalcy was like a pushpin holding a random collection of receipts, clippings and photographs to a pinboard. Chaos held together and organized by one thing: music.

I was learning Beethoven’s Piano Sonata 14, the Moonlight Sonata. As I played for my piano teacher I felt all the emotions of the day were released, unconfined.

In the following days and weeks the Moonlight Sonata became my comfort. I played as the High School across the street lowered their flag to half-mast. I played as my neighbors placed flags on their front porches. I played as my toddler looked at the sky with wide eyes, wondering where the silver flash of highflying airplanes had disappeared.

And while I played I thought of the past two hundred years. I thought of all the people who came before me who had found comfort in this same sonata. People who had experienced unimaginable loss. I visualized the music drawing us together. Linking us—past and present—like an invisible web of solidarity.

My daughter is eleven now and while she hasn’t mastered Beethoven yet, her halting rendition of Fur Elise reminds me music is what makes us human. It has been ten years and I still play Moonlight Sonata and when I do, I remember that day and how amidst the violence, I found peace and hope in a humanity that can find solace in the creation and love of music.

Pooped.

2011-08-29T10:34:00.001-07:00

Jane woke up this morning, ate breakfast and, as the kids were rushing out the door with backpacks, packed lunches and forlorn faces, she found her way back to bed.

I found her a few minutes later like this:

I thought about waking her up. For a second.

She's still sleeping. She's such an angel when she's sleeping.

An Open Letter to the Yosemite High Sierra Camps:

2011-08-21T21:20:00.000-07:00

All of us at one of the trail markers.

Dear Yosemite Views,

Seriously. You’re that vain? I mean, there wasn’t a bad side to you. You’re extremely photogenic, from every angle. Really. I mean, streams, rivers, flowers, granite faces touched by watermelon snow, still lakes, valleys, meadows, even your dust has a bit of charm (except when it’s in my teeth).

We’ll get back to the views later on.

Ah, the flowers. THE FLOWERS!

Dear Sierra Camp Chefs,

I know you started out at the Ahwahnee and all that, so it must be difficult to be roughing it in a rock-housed kitchen with no electricity—your only food brought to you by mule. But really, you’ve outdone yourselves. I mean, just look at the menus: cheese penne pasta with blackberry-sauced chicken, hand stuffed ravioli, sautéed garden vegetables, almond-encrusted salmon with rice pilaf and asparagus, pork carnitas with green garlic salsa and cream, and chicken alfredo with sautéed zucchini and summer squash. Oh, plus the desserts: warm chocolate chip cookies, chocolate cake with strawberry-sized raspberries, mountain berry cobbler, oh, and pumpkin cheesecake.

That’s not even touching on the breakfasts full of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, stick-to-your-ribs oatmeal and plenty of hot drinks.

Well done chefs. Well done.

P.S. Not that I’m complaining, but there was an exorbitant amount of broccoli.

One of our meals. Really.

Dear Ranger Mike,

Thank you for your campfire on bears, your campfire on wilderness areas, your songs, sharing your knowledge of the history of Yosemite, and being enthusiastic about everything. You rock.

P.S. Love your John Muir impersonations. Spot on.

Dear Bears,

Thank you for leaving us alone.

Dear Tenaya Lake,

Why were you so charming for my children? Because of you, we lost precious minutes on the trail to wading and swimming and adoring.

Lily at Lake Tenaya

Dear trail to Sunrise,

Why were you so deceivingly difficult? We thought we had you under our belts when we got to Sunrise lakes, but we were wrong. You meandered FOREVER.

Dear Sunrise Camp showers,

You were almost too hot. If that’s possible.

Dear mosquitoes,

What the hell? Seriously, go pester someone else. And do you have to travel in herds?

Canyon & I attempting to ward off mosquitoes.

Dear Sunrise Camp sunrise,

Wow. Now I get where you got your name.

Dear Camp Merced,

You were a delicious site at the end of a long, long ten-mile day. Because of your path, we learned all the states and their capitols, the phonetic alphabet, and played twenty questions a THOUSAND times. But you were worth it. A beautiful lake and icy cold river to soak our weary feet.

Dear lifesavers,

You were lifesavers. Literally.

Dear Ranger Mike,

Why didn’t you tell us about the two-mile shortcut? Seriously.

Dear trek to Vogelsang,

You suck. Oh, except for the beautiful meadows. I’ll forgive the 3,000 foot climb in seven miles for the views at the meadow.

Dear Stars,

You were so bright, it hurt my eyes.

Dear Dustin,

Your pack was at least ten pounds heavier than mine. Thanks for carrying the tent and also thanks for offering me your sleeping pad when mine sprung a leak. You were a great motivator and photographer. I know sometimes I seemed kind of grumpy. It wasn’t me, me hips were just tired.

The four of us with our packs.

Dear Scott & Katrina,

Thanks for coming with us. You were awesome. Thanks for always getting extra apples for our lunches and always knowing when we needed a break to soak our feet in a stream. Also, I don’t know what we would’ve done without your homemade trail mix, you know, the one with the spicy ginger. Mm, I’m still thinking about it.

Papa Scott and Canyon.

Dear Sue,

Thanks for the Ambien. It became a hot commodity on the trail. I traded it for all kinds of useful things. Plus, I slept really well every night.

Dear fellow hikers on the trail,

I love you. You would always say hello and stop and tell us what we had to look forward to next. And we would tell you about your path. And we would compare notes and point out views and streams. And we were so amiable to each other. Except for you one guys, you know who you are, who laughed at us when we asked if we were getting closer.

Dear Donna,

Thanks for hiking with us and taking pictures for us. You were a great companion and a strong hiker. You deserve a medal for your one hundred and one mosquito bites and your many blisters. I never heard you complain.

Dear army guys who had a conversation with me while I was showering with the sun-shower,

That was awkward.

Dear sunsets,

Pink and granite go together really well. As do shimmering lakes, white firs and silvery meadows. I also enjoyed the colorful tents lighting up each night as flashlights shone through: glowing neon domes.

Dear Lily and Canyon,

Wow. I’m really proud of you. You climbed like rock stars, or mountain goats or something. You were amazing and you didn’t complain. You carried your packs and drank your water and peed. You peed a lot. Every ten minutes. I never worried about dehydration.

You were funny and poignant and curious all at the same time. I hope you remember this trip forever and ever, cause I will.

Yosemite

2011-08-14T21:36:00.000-07:00

We just completed our busiest week. And are about to embark on, what I hope will be, a relaxing week of backpacking.

We're taking Lily and Canyon on our fifty-miler, leaving tomorrow.

Wish us luck.

I'm trying not to think about starting school the minute we get back. I officially hate school.

See you in a week.

Summer, don't leave!

2011-07-29T17:50:00.001-07:00

It has been too long. And I now have two birthdays to report and it seems that birthdays is all I do on this blog. At least we have a birthday break and I can hopefully be more artistic or sentimental or something.

Lily turned eleven. Gasp. This year for her birthday she wanted her own room. She and Canyon have been sharing a room since he was born and I guess she decided that the man cave, which was creeping out from below the bunk bed into the bedroom proper, was getting a leetle to manly (read: gross boy stuff). So we gave her the guest room, which is a bonus because now we can’t have guests. Sorry. (Ok, she said she’d go back to Canyon’s room for very special people). The rest of you can sleep in the barn.

So I spent the few months before her birthday making a quilt and gathering ‘stuff’ to make a perfect girl room. Those things included quilt, pillows, new dresser, clean closet, and her books. Then I sent the two of them away for the weekend and we flurried about and switched rooms. They came home to new rooms and big grins.

A view of Lily's new room.

For her actual birthday we had homemade angel food cake again, which is becoming quite popular here.

Lily’s pretty independent. She still loves to read, she’ll ride her bike all over town to get to her friend’s houses, swim practice or the library. She plays with her sisters and helps me whenever she can. She still doesn’t like to practice piano though. What’s up with that? Seriously, any tricks—cause I’m about to give up. And, we love her. This year she’s starting middle school and so everyone, and I do mean everyone, please cross your fingers that we can have a smooth transition into the teen years? Please?

Lily and her angel food cake.

Now Alice.

Alice’s obsession from space and Star Wars has turned to the ocean and mermaids. She and Jane spend their waking hours doing mermaid swims at the pool and the lake. For her birthday she wanted a mermaid party. So…as you can see from the cake, we kinda copped out with the clip art. But hey, we hung paper circles from the ceiling and told her they were bubbles. I know, I should be on Martha Stewart.

The 'mermaid' cake and cupcakes.

Alice with her cake.

Alice is my best helper. She keeps track of all her things and loves to tidy her room. Seriously. It’s going to be tricky the next few years because we’re starting to learn that Jane doesn’t have the same ‘neat’ tendencies and they’ll be sharing a room for a long time. Yikes! She is very sweet to her sister, to a fault, as Jane is growing up believing that everyone should treat her as well as Alice does. She loves to do her homework and read books about Princess Leia and mermaids.

She did swim team this year and was amazing. She’s a real trooper and never complained and really improved her swimming abilities. We’re really proud of her.

Even though Jane & Alice's quilt isn't finished, we still cleaned up their room.

Alice almost cried when she saw how organized it was. My little OCD, love that!

We are doing other things this summer too, besides celebrating birthdays which include, but aren’t limited to: swim team, riding bikes, hiking, swimming at Bear Lake with cousins, swimming at Del Valle (our lake), reading, cleaning out bedrooms, going to camps, going camping, sleeping on the trampoline, eating at In-N-Out, and trying to survive the ginormous squash that are taking over the garden.

In short, summer is very busy and I’m not ready to see it go. We’re stretching it out as long as possible!

Happy Summer!

Expedition Everest

2011-05-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

Canyon and his cake, complete with mini Tibetan Prayer Flags.

This is going to be all about Canyon. He just had his ninth birthday, and in a family surrounded my attention-seeking girls, it’s his turn.

He has recently discarded WWII aviator for explorer. Not just any kind of explorer, he’s now determined to climb Mt. Everest. We hit the library bio shelves for biographies of George Mallory, Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay. He has put together an ‘expedition outfit’ and writes in his expedition journal every night. Here are some of his entries:

“My quest is to conquer the mountain and send news all over the world.”

“Very cold, tempertures drop, more, and more, and more people dying frome altadude sickness.”

“I will go in spring and hopefull make it back before the monsoon.”

“Very much want to have just two sunny days on Everest.”

He also has lists of supplies and drawings of the mountain, George Mallory, and Tibetan Prayer Flags. For his birthday he was fortunate enough to get a map and compass, among other useful expedition tools. Lucky for him he has a mom who was able to score some very valuable, extremely inaccessible Tibetan Prayer flags for his cake and his room. I don’t know how she does it. Amazing.

Canyon's very own room! Complete with flags and map of world. As well as man cave

(that's what Lily calls the bottom bunk).

I think he is really excited for our fifty-mile backpack adventure this summer. We are taking Lily and Canyon for a five-day trip in the Sierras. Canyon already has it mapped out with our camp-sites and mileage.

Here's his authentic 'George Mallory' style Everest clothing. Good luck buddy!

Miss Jane Elizabeth Turns Four.

2011-02-22T14:58:00.000-08:00

Jane, blowing out her candles on her purple, pink and green cupcakes.

So even though it was a month ago, I guess it’s time to compose a tribute to Jane whose fourth birthday was on January 26^th. Four? You ask? Yes. Four. I know.

This year has been a great one for Jane. She:

· Learned to ride a bike without training wheels. Yes. Almost a year ago.

· Started preschool. (She pretends like she hates it, but really she loves it.)

· Likes to do everything ‘all by myself.’ Of course.

· Favorite color: purple

· Favorite thing to do: play Polly pocket while watching Davy Crockett. Did you say Davy Crockett? Yes. I did. She loves that buckskin pioneer who killed himself a ‘bar’ when he was only three. Ok. I get it; my kids have weird taste in movies.

· Likes to be in charge.

· Still loves to snuggle in the mornings.

· Has been going through a phase that consists of crying until she gets what she wants. We’re hoping she’ll grow out of it by the time she’s ten.

· Still, adorably, sucks her thumb.

And we love her. What a great four years it has been.

Happy Birthday Jane!

Ahem. Public Apology #1.

2011-01-31T16:24:00.000-08:00

Dear Lisa,

Remember when you got a kindle way back when they were shiny spanking new? And I would make fun of you. And you would tell me that it was so cool because when you were sitting in the carpool line at school waiting for your kids, you could just whip it out and read. Or if you were at the dentist waiting to go in, you could pull it out of your purse and read. Or if you were sitting at baseball or basketball or scouts, waiting for your kids to finish…you could open your purse, grab it and read. Remember that?

And I would say, with sarcasm dripping down my chin, “Yeah. Like a book.”

Remember how rude I was.

Then, remember how you gave me your very first shiny new kindle for my birthday because you got a shinier, newer kindle for Christmas?

And I was like, “Cool.” But didn’t even try to hide the, I’m way cooler than this, I’m going to go read my twenty pound Chaucer anthology now, voice. Remember that?

Well. I’ve had that shiny new kindle now for 31 days and, guess what? I LOVE IT. I can’t even begin to describe in words how much I love that kindle. I am so sorry for all of my snarky, snobby remarks.

I thought I was being a defender of paper and proper reading habits. Really, I was just unrealistic.

I LOVE the classics I can get for free. I love the chance to ‘free sample’ a book before I buy (or not buy) it. I LOVE that I can have a book that I really, really want in thirty seconds.

So I’m only going to say this once. You were right. I was wrong.

I bow down and worship you. Thank you for the kindle.

Your BKFF (Best Kindle Friend Forever),

Emily

January.

2011-01-17T14:54:00.000-08:00

Jane's peeking out from under Alice's arm.
I know it looks great, but it's colder than it looks.

Hasn't January felt long. It seems like we've been in January for three months now and it's not even close to over yet.

The good news for us is that occasionally we get some sun. The kids get a little overly excited and throw on summer clothes, but how can I argue with that? At least they're outside.

With a Perspective. Round 2.

2010-12-06T13:09:00.001-08:00

A Snow Covered Mt. Diablo

I just recorded my second Perspective for our local NPR station. I hope you like it. It's supposed to air tomorrow morning. It is, in a round about way, about Pearl Harbor. You can listen to it here.

Blog Theme.

2010-11-30T16:32:00.000-08:00

I just noticed that in the last three posts I refer to 'peeing my pants.' I don't know where this comes from? To your relief, I'm sure, I don't actually pee my pants. It's just my way of saying that I'm REALLY EXCITED.

Anyway. I'm going to try and stop peeing my pants.

Holiday Patina.

2010-11-19T14:07:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to shout out to my sister-in-law's etsy shop. She is an amazing artist and you're going to die when you see her stuff. I seriously peed my pants when I saw the Shakespeare. She also has some great stuff for Christmas decor.

She has been creating amazing stuff for years and is now selling her little figurines in the Sundance shop. You heard me, SUNDANCE people. Anyway. I'm excited for her and if you're looking for some really creative, great gifts...check her out.

And Trieste, as Shakespeare would say:

" 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another herb."

Orange & Black.

2010-10-31T21:29:00.000-07:00

The kids ready to trick-or-treat.
Aviator, Elfaba, Princess Leia (Hoth persuasion), Snow white
(Sorry for the bad picture)

Today was Halloween. Yesterday was our HUGE Halloween party at the Barn. We had a spook alley and apple bobbing, donuts on a string and a cupcake walk. We had a costume contest and Frankenstein and his Bride won. His boots had 6 inch platforms and her hair was 12 inches tall. The spook alley was terrifying. Full of all the things spook alleys should have: fog, moaning, screaming, spider webs, disembodied heads, jumpy skeletons and a coffin rising vampire. I went in during the day, in the light, knowing everything that was going to happen, and I still peed my pants. Practically. Also, don’t underestimate apple bobbing. I know it seems gross, and it sorta is, but the kids LOVE it. They cheer and clap and I made sure that I took all the stems off the apples so that no one can cheat. By the end the apple water has turned all colors of hair dye, makeup, and—hate to say it, but it’s true—spittle. Kids were running around with drippy faces and soppy hair. Needless to say, we had a spectacular time.

The Barn: before the party.

Tonight was trick-or-treating. We went in Grandma’s neighborhood, because she has more sidewalks and street lights and houses that give away full-size candy bars.

I love Halloween. I love all the people out going door to door. I love the costumes. The Jack-o-lanterns. The crickets chirping. The fog coming in. The stars coming out. And the kids, cautiously at first, and then with reckless abandon yelling, “Trick or treat!” Jane saying, as she’s trying to keep up with her older siblings, “These houses sure are scary, but we’re getting a lot of candy.” We only fell once (Jane), had to pee once in the bushes (Jane), and had to ride on daddy’s shoulders once (Jane).

The best part about tonight. The orange and black. Not the orange and black of pumpkins and witches’ hats, but the orange and black: colors of the San Francisco Giants. At every house, people in their orange and black t-shirts handed out candy distractedly, with one eye on the score—and one ear listening for the sounds of the crowds on the TV and radio. They called out the score as we offered our “Happy Halloweens,” and then hurried back inside. It’s a good time to live in the Bay Area. Everyone has a smile on their face and we are pulled together with a sense of solidarity, a common ground, a shared cohesiveness that Halloween can’t do on its own. So, for us, orange and black lasts a little longer, and even if we lose—hey, we made it to October. And that’s got to count for something.

The spoils.

If you want to pee your pants…

2010-10-27T10:46:00.000-07:00

I have been doing a lot of google schlepping lately in an attempt to finish up costumes. In the effort to finish Canyon’s costume of what he calls, “old-fashioned pilot” and what is determined as “aviator,” on google, I ran across some incredible sites. Most of the sites are devoted to ‘steampunk,’ my new favorite genre. What is steam-punk you might ask? Let me explain it to you as I understand it. (My source of information is mainly from our new nightly reading/listening of this.

Ok. Here we go: steampunk is set in the Victorian Era, with a little ‘punk’ added to it. The ‘punk’ comes from the obvious; this is a Victorian Era of an alternate universe. The steam, well—most everything is powered by steam in this era. Get it? Wow. I learned about steampunk one day and for the next weeks afterwards, it seems that’s all I see. It’s amazing that I’d never even heard of it before.

Anywho. The point is, that there’s a lot of steam-punk websites out there with instructions on how to make aviator hats and goggles. So it’s been extremely helpful for me and the completion of Canyon’s costume. So in addition to patterns for aviator hats, I ran across this website.

Go ahead and look and then come back.

You might need to change your pants first.

Ok. Very funny, right? As much as I feel I need a helmet to keep aliens from telepathically controlling my mind, the fact that it’s $30 for the material, well, that’s just priceless. My favorite, of course are the testimonials.

From a happy purchaser in Austria:
"I have been abducted by aliens for years and found stopabductions.com by a happy coincidence.

The Thought Screen Helmet, invented by an expert, has stopped the unwelcome visitations and has raised me and my family`s quality of life. Therefore I highly recommend it."

Really. My family and I have not had this alien abduction problem, yet—so it’s difficult for me to see the value of this product. I can imagine though. Only imagine.

My favorite testimonial:
“The Thought Screen Helmet is working perfectly. I have not had contact with the aliens since I first started using it. Though twice now coming back from work, I have noticed lights following to the rear of my car, so now I take the helmet with me in the car in case I am abducted. “

After reading this next one, I too was perplexed as to how the helmet continues to obstruct these beings that are supposedly so much more advanced than we are. Humph? Oh, well, point is that it works, right?
"The hat and helmet work very well and I have experience much relief wearing them. I am however, surprised that the aliens have not found a way to thwart this simple but effective technology. At any rate I am very happy with mine and thank you again for your work."

Make sure to check out their thorough page on Alien weaknesses, you never know when that might come in handy. And just look at their record of success, only three failures since 1998.

Wonderful.

Five Hours.

2010-09-24T09:33:00.000-07:00

Jane on her way to 'Pretty-school'

Five Hours.
I have suddenly moved into a new class of people. It’s strange, exhilarating, and sometimes a little bit sad. I now, officially, have five hours a week sans children. Wow. Not having a baby around has been strange for some time, and having everyone (sort of) sleep through the night has also been weird, but nothing is more alien than having a few hours at home by myself. Jane is in, what she likes to call, pretty-school twice a week for a few hours. She is adjusting to finally being like one of the big kids by crying and hanging onto my legs with an other-worldly force as I drop her off. As soon as I’m out of ear-shot, she happily makes friends and influences the more naïve three year olds. Let’s face it, she has a lot to teach them, after all—she’s the youngest of four.

What do I do with this time? So far I haven’t been able to steer clear of laundry, dishes, bed-making and Costco tripping. One of these days I’m going to branch out and do something for myself. Old habits are hard to break.

In other news: Today at school the kids were supposed to dress up like one of their favorite characters from a book. I love this idea. I’ve always wanted to dress up as Emily Dickenson, but haven’t come across any white Victorian gowns lately. However, the kids were much easier to manage. I made Canyon a camp half-blood t-shirt. Our obsession with Percy Jackson is slowly moving down the ranks of kids. Lily had it, now Canyon—Alice will shortly follow. I also made Lily a Hunger Games t-shirt. I know what you’re thinking: “You let your daughter read the Hunger Games?” And the answer is yes. And she loves it. And I know it’s violent. There. I made her a “District 12 Tribute” shirt. She LOVES it.

Percy & Katniss

We’re just gearing up for Halloween. So far Canyon wants to be an old-fashioned aviator (don’t ask me where he gets his inspiration), he’s been wandering around the yard for weeks with his bike helmet and swim goggles making airplane noises. Lily wants to be Elfaba from “Wicked” (you know, the wicked witch of the West). Alice wants to be Princess Leia (shocker)—but we’re going to mix it up a bit—she wants to be Leia of the Hoth persuasion (you know, white boots and furry vest). Jane, bless her heart, wants to be Snow White. If any of you have ideas for costumes on any of these…let me know.

Oh yeah, disclaimer: These are apt to change. Several times.

It looks like I have something to fill those five hours.

With a Perspective.

2010-08-27T14:09:00.000-07:00

Here I am in the recording studio.

I just wanted to leave a little note to tell you all I’m going to be on NPR. That’s right, I’m leaving the world with ‘my perspective.’

So our local NPR station has a series called ‘Perspectives,’ where they have local ‘regular’ people read their perspective about something. I always like listening to the perspectives and have thought that it might be fun to do it sometime. So last week, I thought, why not? So I sent in my perspective and they contacted me the next day to come in and record it. It was a pretty great experience. I got to go into San Francisco to the station and record in a real recording studio. For those of you in the Bay Area, I’ll just throw this out there… I got to sit in Michael Krasny’s chair.

The sound engineer, Howard, was extremely nice and talked me through my virgin recording experience. He said if I liked the sound of my voice that I would be like all the other ego driven voices at KQED and get a job there. I was nervous, but it was easy because it was just me, alone in the room, and Howard and Dustin in the control booth. I only had to read through my piece twice and we had to edit it a little to fit the time restrictions.

And guess what? I LOVE the sound of my voice.

Did I mention that they took a really, not so great, photo of me. Oh well. On the radio it’s all about how you sound, not how you look.

Oh, also, did I mention that I get paid. Yep. Just enough to cover the parking at the ferry building where we had dinner.

So, it airs Monday August 30^th at 7:35 am. They’re also going to re-run it Saturday, September 4^th at the same-ish time. I hope that you listen. Here’s how you can listen:

You can listen live, here.

And on the archives right here, for Monday, the 30^th. (Ignore my extremely close-up photo)

I know, it’s not an ironman, but it’s the best I’ve got.

With a perspective, I’m Emily.

I look so natural in Michael's chair, no?

School

2010-08-23T08:01:00.000-07:00

I don't buy my kids new school clothes. Am I a bad mom? My mom always got us new school clothes, but I guess I feel like I don't need to. Summer weather hangs on here until October, so there's not really a clothing season change. Their summer clothes and clothes from last year seem fine. And if, during the year, they need some pants or shoes, we just go and get them. Alice and Jane have the advantage of the bins of clothes downstairs that used to be Lily's--so I almost never have to get them anything at all.

The beauty of it: they don't seem to even be aware that there is such a thing as new school clothes.

So, I'll posit this question one more time. Am I a bad mom?

Raspberries

2010-08-20T10:41:00.000-07:00

We spent the morning picking raspberries. I used to send the kids to do it on their own, but they always came back with a pitiful amount of berries and the excuse that they had picked all they could. I went with them this time to motivate them. We came back with a fair amount. More than usual. Jane was scared of the berry bushes for some reason and spent the whole hour asking Lily ‘why aren’t you scared?’

Picking the berries reminds me of my grandma. She had raspberry bushes too. I remember her dining room window overlooking the berries and plenty of hummingbird sightings with a white crock of raspberry jam for our toast shining in the middle of the table.

It was strange I was thinking about this because Canyon suddenly said:

“You know what’s funny about your mom’s family?”

“What.”

“Your mom’s name is four letters (Dona), her mom’s name is four letters (Idon), and her mom’s name is four letters (Erma).”

I guess the raspberries have this ‘Idon effect’ on more than just me. Canyon’s never met Grandma Idon or seen her berry bushes—but suddenly he was thinking of her as he thoughtfully squished the berries between his teeth.

Alice's Birthday

2010-08-10T15:04:00.000-07:00

Alice told me for her fifth birthday that she wanted black and white cupcakes because, “it’s like the dark side and the light side.” Yes, we are still on Star Wars. I’ll take Star Wars over Barbie any day.

I can’t believe that Alice is five and getting ready to start school. She, of all our kids, is the most capable of spending the day away from home. She’s independent, assertive and social. She’ll be fine. She is my little helper and whenever there is an audible fart somewhere in the house, she happily owns up to it. She loves Star Wars and playing with her boy cousins, yet in the same moment loves jewelry and knows how to wear it. She was, as Lily says, “born to have her ears pierced.” She is enjoying her new pierced ears and her new princess Leia shirt. And I’ll take her over the others any day because she always makes her bed and cleans her room—as a mom, I gotta love that.

Happy Birthday Alice!

The little Star War's cupcakes. They were all chocolate to represent the 'Dark Side.'

Alice blowing out the candles.

The Princess Leia t-shirt I made for Alice. (I just did the applique)

Neglect

2010-08-10T14:56:00.001-07:00

I can’t believe that summer is almost over. We have been busy, of course, and aren’t quite ready for school to start again. First we had a wonderful Reeder family reunion in the Tetons and then we sent Lily off to Spain. While she was in Spain, swimming in the Mediterranean, we were at swim team and swimming in the pool everyday. Then after she got home (more on Spain later) we all went on our annual camping trip to Tahoe. Mixed in there we had girls’ camp and Alice’s birthday. Really, the pictures are going to have to tell it all for me. I don’t have Tahoe pictures yet, those are forthcoming:

The kids enjoying the cold water at Phelp's Lake in the Tetons.

Our whole family on a hike. Jane was big enough to do the hikes, but wasn't very happy about it!

Swimming at the pool everyday. Canyon had swim team and Alice and Jane 'practiced.' By the end of the summer Alice's ready for swim team and Jane's 'swimming all by myself mama!'

Sparklers on the fourth. We had a great time even though Lily was in Spain. She had plenty of Celebrating to do when Spain won the world cup. Ole!

All Things Lily.

2010-06-09T12:36:00.000-07:00

Lily had her birthday a month ago. She is ten. Yes. Ten. I know. I’m in trouble. She requested an angel food cake for her birthday. A homemade angel food cake. I have attempted to make an angel food cake, twice, from scratch before. And both times, I was not successful.

A few years ago we had invited some long-time Prusso friends over (their kids grew up with Dustin and his brothers) and she had brought this amazing angel food cake. I remember at the time being enamored with it and begging her to help me make one and she had agreed. I figured that she had agreed in the same way that we all agree as we meet new stranger/friends at the park to ‘get together sometime,’ as we pretend to exchange phone numbers. However, in desperation, I called them and even though they were totally doing other things, more important things, promised to help me. So the afternoon of Lily’s birthday, Barbara and Monty (both of them) came over and held my hand as they walked me through the process. They were so great, they made me do it all myself as they gave very specific instructions and explained why everything had to be ‘just so.’

Lily, 'helping' to put the icing on her perfect cake.

And the result of this afternoon was an amazing, delicious angel food cake. And I have so much gratitude for this couple. I mean they’re retired they should be traveling or playing golf, not stuck in my kitchen with screaming kids helping me make a cake. What a great birthday gift to me.

We invited them for dinner and they came and we ate and we inhaled that delicious cake. And the best part was that Lily was SO AMAZED with that cake. She’s at the age where she can really appreciate things like homemade angel food cake.

In other Lily news, big Lily news…she’s going to leave us for a month this summer to go to Spain. Yes, that’s right, Spain. She was invited by my brother-in-law and his Spanish wife to go with them. It was not easy to say yes, trust me. But I had to look at this in a much larger perspective. Not that I’m losing a daughter for a month, but how this experience is going to change her life. Forever. I’m excited for her and nervous for me. But, as she said when I mentioned that she wouldn’t be able to do swim team this year if she went, “Mom, I’ll be swimming in the Mediterranean everyday.” Well. It’s hard to argue with that.

A Beach in Malaga.

So she’ll be off in less than a month with a passport in her pocket, an itouch loaded up with books, movies, music and skype (so she can call home), and a suitcase packed with swimsuits and sandals—enough to get her through a month of the Mediterranean.

Am I jealous? Yes. Very. I guess this is one of those sacrifices that parents make for kids. My parents did the same for me.

I did, however, renew my passport as she got hers. Cause, you never know.

Last bit of Lily news. She insisted that I make her a new quilt, once that would be bunk-bed compatible. So, with a burst of creative energy not seen since Fall of ’08, I made her a new quilt. The self-imposed stipulations being I could spend no money. I almost made it. I spent $4 on the binding. But the rest of the quilt was made of scraps that I’ve had or inherited. I didn’t turn out too bad and the bonus: She LOVES it.

Her quilt. On the top bunk.

This concludes my post of all things Lily. Feel free to leave comments that support my decision to send a ten-year-old to Spain—I’m in need of encouragement and commiseration. Do those words even go together?

Remember, I have a passport. Invite me to Europe. Anyone.

Thoughts on the St. George Ironman Triathalon.

2010-05-08T13:34:00.000-07:00

Daisy on her first bike lap.

This past weekend I packed up the van and the kids and drove them to St. George to watch Daisy in her first Ironman Triathalon. The experience was, in many ways, unbelievable. First, incase you’re wondering what an Ironman is, let me enlighten you. A 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and a marathon (yes, you heard me right). Daisy has been training for this for a year, but let it be said…I think that she’s really been training for this her entire life.

We spent the day, Saturday, driving from one part of the course to another to cheer her on. I felt like a total heifer as we sat comfortably on the side of the road with our foot long sandwiches, 64 oz. Diet cokes and bags of chips—pausing for breath only occasionally to yell out, “Good job!” as very toned, incredibly fit athletes whizzed by so quickly that if you blinked—they were gone. We had quite a system to figure out when, exactly, Daisy was coming. Shayne and Dad were never far from their phones as they tracked Daisy’s progress, by her electronic chip. Shayne also had family and friends stationed at different points along the course and they would call/text/tweet updates as well. Finally, unable to calm her nerves and just wait, Nana would walk ahead a quarter mile and watch for her there. As we heard her signal whistle we knew that Daisy was always close and get in position to cheer. She always looked amazing and smiled and yelled and waved. And then, just as quickly we’d pack up our chairs and head onto the next spot.

Shayne and the girls sporting the "Team Daisy" t-shirts that I made. One of their friends made the sign.

In our defense, however, it was no small feat to get 10 children from one spot to another and then, while we were there, make sure that no one got killed by an overzealous athlete on a bicycle. Plus coordinating meals and naps for said group was a nightmare. As Dad later put it, “She [Daisy] has no idea what we’ve been through today.” This after 12 ½ hours of extreme exertion on her part.

When Daisy was on the run, we were so excited. We were like, “she’s on her run! She almost finished!” And then we’d realize that it was still a marathon. A MARATHON people! It was crazy. All of those people out there, still running after all those hours swimming and on a bike must have superhuman powers. It was, as I said, unbelievable. Daisy was hoping to finish the race in 14 hours. She WAY exceeded her expectations and finished in 12 ½ hours. She was AMAZING! What was really extraordinary to me was that there were so many people who were able to finish this thing. I had no doubts that Daisy would be able to do it, but was so surprised that there were so many people out there like Daisy. My heart is still cheering for all of those people and what an amazing thing they’ve accomplished.

Daisy on the run.

The next day we HAD to go on a hike because that’s all Canyon wanted to do the whole time we were there. We went to Dixie Red Rocks? I’m not sure if that’s what it’s called. I took my kids and three of Daisy’s and the kids had a blast running around and hiking on the red rocks. They found caves and ledges and sheer cliffs. It was at this point that I wondered if I was crazy to take seven kids out there on my own. The adult/kid ratio wasn’t the greatest. They had a great time though. It was so much fun for the cousins to play together as they don’t often get to see each other.

All the kids on our hike.

A big thanks to Dustin’s aunt, Jackie, for letting us stay in her beautiful home. The kids slept great and I loved sleeping with the widow open and listening to the crickets all night long.

Anyway, Daisy, you were incredible. We had a great time coming to cheer you on and are bragging about you every chance we get.

And lastly, we were happy to provide a boy for Shayne to do "guy stuff" with.
( You really thought you'd never see this, didn't you, Shayne!)

Canyon's Birthday.

2010-04-27T10:17:00.001-07:00

Canyon had his much-anticipated birthday a week ago. It was a hit by all eight-year-old accounts. I mean, let’s face it, all a birthday really requires is a great sugary cake, ice-cream, and lots of legos. Right? I made a cake that was supposed to look like a lego block—I’m not sure if it did, but that didn’t seem to bother Canyon much. We had a great warm day, a BBQ outside, cake and lots of playing in the grass, dirt, on bikes, and play-fighting on the trampoline. I can’t really believe that Canyon is eight already and just to drive that point home, he went to his first cub-scout meeting and he and Dustin already perfected their first pine-wood derby car together. Sigh.

Canyon with his lego cake. Notice he's dressed as Boba Fett.

The Spoils. He was noticeably less excited about the scout shirt than the legos.
Still excited though.

Canyon’s such a great asset to our family. Not only is he the calm amidst the stormy weather (read: three girls), he is sensitive, loving, obedient and extremely creative. He keeps our family in balance. I only wish there were more of him!

My Cup Runneth Empty.

2010-04-12T09:05:00.000-07:00

Why do we, as mothers, wives—with our lives as crazy hectic as they are—sometimes feel so empty? I think that what we really need is two weeks at some beach. Either alone, or with commiserating girlfriends. In her book, Gift From The Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh hits this right on the head (keep in mind, though, she did take two weeks at the sea—by herself—to come by these words of wisdom:

“With our garnered free time, we are more apt to drain our creative springs than to refill them. With our pitchers, we attempt sometimes to water a field, not a garden.”

That’s what I’m doing. I’m watering a field. And I’m running out of water.

Tell me, has anyone figured out how to say no?

I, myself, would be happy to take a few weeks at the sea. Preferably a warm sea. With sun and books and lots of food and long walks. I think what it really is, though, that in a thankless job—we just want someone to say thank you.

So I’m saying it to all of you moms out there—thank you. Thank you for all the meals, cleaning, the laundry, the cleaning up of poop, the wiping of runny noses, the middle of the night feedings, the hours of homework, driving around, Costco runs, cleaning (did I already say that) and so much more.

Thank you.

Crap.

2010-03-25T17:21:00.001-07:00

I think when someone tells you that you look tired--what they really mean is that you look like crap.

Am I right?

The Art of the Nap.

2010-03-17T16:03:00.000-07:00

I remember sometime in graduate school reading Joseph Epstein’s essay, “The Art of the Nap.” I don’t remember much about it except that it seemed to offer an argument about the benefits of napping (who could argue with that) and then went into detail how best to nap. If I remember correctly the characterization of a perfect nap included sleeping on a couch or comfortable chair, never in a bed, taking off of one’s shoes, but not clothes, and never longer than twenty minutes. Since becoming a mother I have found another benefit to nap-taking.

A moment of peace.

Jane, the youngest of my children and therefore the one most likely to nap, has given up the practice of napping long ago. It seemed that for so many years I cleared a schedule for a baby to nap that I can’t, however impractical it is, give up those precious hours. So we are home, every afternoon for what I stubbornly continue to call “naptime,” even though we haven’t had consistent naps for years. Lily and Canyon roll their eyes in the summertime when we are grounded from all other social activities each afternoon for our ‘quiet time.’ We read or play quietly. Even outside play is sanctioned. But, there are no errands, no exhausting trips to the pool, park or library—we reserve those for morning or late afternoon. And even though I never, ever take a nap of my own, I just revel in a quiet time that is only slightly quieter than the rest of my day.

But occasionally on a very rare day, I find myself alone, in the afternoon, with Jane. And on an even rarer occasion of these days—she takes a nap.

And it is, once again, quiet.

Over the River and through the Woods.

2010-03-12T13:33:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago I did this certifiably crazy thing. I decided, in the middle of a stormy week, on a Tuesday that I was going to drive to Utah, on a Wednesday, with the little girls. I heard that Will and Eliza had RSV and their mom wasn’t feeling that great herself. Holding a baby—or two, or three was all I needed for an excuse to see my family. Luckily, Dustin was super supportive and even, dare I say, a little jealous. I left early in the morning. Dustin, Canyon and Lily were left to brave the next 10 days on their own.

Can I just say that driving to Utah in the winter is a lot like labor. Here are the similarities.

Equally as long: 14 hours.

White knuckle, tense, holding my breath: driving over the chain-required Sierra’s in the middle of a storm.

Long, very tiring middle section: the drive across Nevada. Luckily I had plenty of caffeine.

A moment of hope as I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel: finally getting to Highway 30.

Transition: Deer, fog, darkness and utter despair. Thankfully the girls slept through transition. Dustin had to coach me through on the phone.

The end: Finally arriving to Sadie and Christian’s house ready for a hot shower, oh wait, they didn’t have any hot water! Aargh!

Once we were there, though, we had an amazing time. We got to play with the twins everyday. Jane and Alice were a ton of help as Jane liked Will—or as she called him, the blue baby—and Alice was happy to play with Eliza.

{Here's Will & Eliza the first day, I was so proud to get them both to sleep}

The bonus was that there was also Baby Soren (it was like triplets) and of course, CJ. Angie & Hyrum were also a bonus and Angie and Jane found that they are truly “kindred spirits.”

{Soren had the BEST smile. It was wider than his face!}

It was nice to be helpful (hopefully) and get a lot of time with family. Dustin and the kids were doing great on their own. I think they ate out a lot and my friend, Trish, even brought them dinner one night. They loved being home without the noise of the ‘little girls.’ As my few days turned into more—while we waited out many storms—I finally decided to go the long way and stay with Daisy in St. George.

{Jane loved not being the 'littlest' and bossed those babies around all day.}

Alice was delighted with the desert and equally delighted to play with her cousin Kate all day long. Jane worked through a fever and cough and we got to witness Daisy’s endurance as she trained much of the day for her upcoming Ironman triathlon.

We finally drove home through Las Vegas, the Mojave Desert, Bakersfield and across the central valley. It was beautiful. Green. The orchards were either laden and overloaded with oranges, picked clean, or in the case of the almond trees full of pink and white blossoms. On either side of the freeway, for three hundred miles it was a carpet of green patterned fields with shimmering white rows of soft blossoms. The falling blossoms were like snow on the ground—except it was sunny and warmish.

We were oh. so. happy. to pull into the driveway and see our yard, our swings, the barn, the orange tree, and our people. We had such a great adventure. Next time we’ll take the rest of the family.

Lily's Quilt.

2010-02-03T14:22:00.000-08:00

I’ve had a request from family members to post pictures of Lily’s Christmas present. As we all know, Lily is a voracious reader and so I decided for Christmas that I would make her a reading quilt with blocks from some of her favorite books. Here’s what made the list:

Harry Potter
The Witch of Blackbird Pond
The Boxcar Children
The Fablehaven series
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
The Wizard of Oz
The Graveyard Book
The Mysterious Benedict Society
The Sisters Grimm
and
The Chronicles of Narnia

It was really fun making the quilt because I got a chance to be creative and while I’m no artist—it was fun to figure out which scenes represented each book. As for the appliqué itself, I mostly copied images from the books or from images online. There was no freehand in this. Lily was delighted with the quilt which made it all the more fun and it was an absolute surprise which wasn’t easy as the little girls saw what I was working on each day and had to be redirected as Lily walked in the door.

Its purpose has been filled as I often see Lily wrapped up in it as she’s reading her books.

Anyway, what do you think?

Here are some of the blocks up close.

This one is probably my favorite, because I was thinking that it'd just have to be a boxy, boring boxcar. And then I saw this silhouette in the book and thought I'd try it. It worked!

This fairy one was the first one I did and it gave me hope that I might actually be able to pull this off.

The back and binding.

Jane Elizabeth: January 26, 2007

2010-02-03T14:09:00.000-08:00

Jane turned three a couple of weeks ago. When she was born, Alice was only 18 months old and, needless to say, the first year or so felt like a blur. When Jane was born we were 99% sure that her name was going to be Beth. Then, in the hospital—as we looked at her, I mentioned Jane—and as Lily said, “it just felt right.” Canyon had the honor of giving Jane her middle name, Elizabeth, named after—who else—Elizabeth Swan from “Pirates of the Caribbean.” It doesn’t feel like three years since she was born, but as she is already acting like a 5-year-old—I guess it’s appropriate.

Here’s what we love about Jane:

She loves to snuggle.

She has perfect hair with just the right amount of curl.

She talks like she’s ten.

She gets whatever she wants and can be a real stinker (I guess that’s what happens when you’re the youngest).

She wants to do everything herself.

She loves her sisters and brother.

She’s what we like to call, independent. Others might call it stubborn.

She’ll eat anything.

All of her baby dolls are named Janie (after her of course).

She knows exactly how and when to turn on the charm to avoid some serious discipline.

And we can’t imagine life without her.

Happy Birthday Jane!

Ode to the Pacific Northwest.

2010-01-21T16:03:00.000-08:00

How do you do it.
Rain, day in and day out.
It is dark.
It is cold.
Sun? Not even in our vocabulary any more.

What we do to keep our Sanity.

I did find this today. At least I also had something to do. Enjoy.

Winter.

2010-01-14T10:51:00.000-08:00

It’s been warmish of late, possibly all of the rain storms that we’ve been getting. We took advantage of the warmer weather and went for a walk in the vineyard before dinner the other day. We saw 5 deer, 2 emus, an undetermined number of horses, an abandoned foxhole, poppies starting to bloom, the white castle house, and empty wine tasting lawns. Jane was only scared two times and warned us about the ‘muddles’ extensively.

Just incase you weren’t sure, a muddle is a puddle of mud.

Little House by the Vineyard.

2010-01-04T13:44:00.000-08:00

Our slaves Lily & Jane drying and putting away dishes.

So I guess that Ma Ingalls knows how to live without. There were times in her illustrious career as a pioneer mom where she lived on brown bread alone. And no white sugar, not even for company. However, Ma’s got nothing on me. I am a living, breathing pioneer. It all started this summer when the microwave broke. Who needs a microwave anyway? We’ve been living microwave free for six months now and I haven’t missed it for even a second (actually it’s really the only way to melt butter to room temperature without actually leaving the butter out in room temperature). Ok, maybe for a second. But, let’s be honest, one can live without a microwave. Then one of the faucets on my kitchen sink went out. No biggie, you only need one faucet on a kitchen sink. After all, Ma didn’t even have a kitchen sink, let alone a faucet attached to one. Then the TV went out. Don’t panic, we went out and bought a new one the next day—even Ma would agree to that. Now, most recently we have lost our dishwasher. Ok, now I’m starting to notice.

So, I’m washing dishes by hand. You heard it, by hand. It’s been a great experience for the kids and the dishwasher makes a superb drying rack. Really, I could get used to this.

So where is my contractor husband through all of this? He’s at work, fixing other people’s microwaves/sinks/dishwashers. Someone’s got to make a living.

After I finish washing all the dishes from dinner last night, I’m going to go and watch TV.

Signing off,
Ma

My new dishwashing apron. Much cheaper than a new dishwasher.

P.S. I don't want to hear other people's sob stories about how they lived for years without a dishwasher (Brooke, Isaac), just be impressed. Ok? And feel sorry for me, a little.

Sunny With A Chance Of Showers.

2009-12-04T09:26:00.000-08:00

So I’m just going to jump into this post as if I’ve been posting regularly for the past several months and that I haven’t been slacking at all. Guilt free. Forget all the Halloween and Thanksgiving photos and delightful stories because I’m going to pretend like I was already on top of that and you have been laughing and crying (tears of joy and amazement, mostly) all along this Autumn journey with us.

So yesterday we had one of our little friends over and the house was full of dress-ups, dolls, barbies, sugar and spice and everything nice (you get the idea). It was a non-contested girl day and to enhance the girlyness—word?—of the day we were baking a pink cake with white frosting and a Cinderella topper for Grandma (isn’t that the kind of cake that most grandma’s would want?). The girls then, delicately and with much pomp and dressed-up circumstance, decided to take their barbies outside for some girl-time on the trampoline and the slides. They were aptly prepared for the crisp weather with sleeveless slips and see through pink ballerina skirts. I’m not sure they were wearing shoes—it didn’t seem important at the time. I was taking laundry down to Lily and Canyon’s room and as I was cursing the lego-strewn floor and clearing Lily’s bed of 432 books I happened to glace out the window. Alice was pulling her panties off and lifting her dress and as I was pondering what was happening and trying in vain to open the window fast enough—saw her pee, delightedly, all over the sidewalk. The stream, of said pee, was strong enough to put a race horse in the gates to shame. The other girls seemed just as delighted with this not-so-feminine turn of events. I then saw the other girls starting to hitch up their dresses. I ran to the other room, thinking, somehow that it would be faster to open that window. I opened the window and yelled “No! No! No! No!” over and over again. It was like it was in slow motion as I watched my newly-potty-trained-princess, Jane, hike up her skirts and also pee a stream that was other-worldly in its quantity and velocity. Their laughing and giggling, apparently overshadowed my frantic screaming. And then just when I think that they couldn’t be acting more like their brothers and cousins—they surprise me my taking it one step further, even defying any little boy I’ve ever known—as Jane gloriously begins to splash in the newly made puddle as if she’s in a spring shower with her galoshes. Mind you…she has bare feet.

I finally came to my senses and actually went outside to stop the peeing. Jane got plopped in the bath and I think I made it pretty clear to the other girls that they should use the toilet to pee. Ok, I’ll admit, I used some pretty strong language—I think the words NEVER and EVER made it into the exclamation. I thought we were never going to live through the Canyon-peeing-wherever-he-deemed-appropriate-even-right-outside-the-entrance-to-the-Logan-Temple-at-Marty-and-Bonnie’s-wedding-Scare of 2005. But this has topped it.

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice…yeah right.

Poet Laureate

2009-10-21T16:33:00.000-07:00

Last week the little girls and I went to the park. It was beautiful, sunny, warm and we stayed for hours. Our faces were red with sun and play and the girls went on several adventures. As they came back from one of their adventures, Alice came to me with a bouquet of dandelions gone to seed. She handed it to me and said:

"These are for you. They're not flowers--they're wishes."

I love living with poets.

On Fall in Northern California

2009-09-24T18:56:00.000-07:00

Pizza Margherita. And yes, that's an ice-cold diet coke.

Fall is an interesting time of year round here. Even though I’ve lived here over a decade, I don’t think that I’ll ever get used to it. It’s very different from the orange fire mountain autumns I grew up with, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. To me, fall here seems warmer than summer, I think because the marine layer is less likely to blanket us each night and the “shorts and sweatshirts” (coined by my Aunt Linda) evenings of summer turn into shorts and tee shirts evenings. But I love it. There’s so many things to love about fall here. The way the light changes, subtly at first and then forcefully as the sun shines at us more from the south. The light patterns on the hardwood floor in our south facing family room elongate a little more each day. For the first time in months I close the bright white curtains and the light filters softly through giving the house a cool glow. Another thing I love about fall here is the harvesting of the vineyard grapes. They do it at night, all night long, under bright spotlights and humming motors. There’s something about harvesting the grapes, at their peek, in the coolness of night. But the smell of fermenting grapes left on the vine, while a little strong when you’re pregnant, can be an earthy complement to the coming change of seasons. I also love the sparkling ribbons they tie to the grape vines every few feet—to ward off the birds (so I’m told), I’m not sure if it works, though, because I see all kinds of animals partaking of the steamy purple grapes. But the effect of the hills sparkling is our version of a sparkling snow covered hill.

But the very best thing about fall this year, are the long-awaited tomatoes from our garden. We planted over 20 plants and we have a veritable jungle of the red-candy goodness. The kids go out there and pick and eat them like they’re berries. Jane and Lily especially love them. So yesterday I decided to do something with these…and I was craving a pizza so I made a pizza margherita with fresh basil and steaming tomatoes. I sent Canyon out to get me ‘three large red tomatoes’ and he obliged and it was so hot outside, nearly 100 degrees. He came in with gloriously large red tomatoes and as I cut them open tendrils of steam wandered off the cutting board into the air above the mozzarella and basil. Real steam. These were HOT! So to add to my ever growing list of fall favorites: steamy tomatoes—right up there with fermenting grapes.

Post edit: I realized after reading this again that some people might think I'm pregnant. I'm not, just remembering the smell of the fermenting grapes when I was pregnant and recalling how my sister-in-law, Trieste, would get absolutely sick at the briefest smell of the vineyard in fall. She wouldn't even come over to our house.

On Bedtime Routines.

2009-09-10T19:05:00.000-07:00

It is 7:00 pm—the time that we officially start the bedtime routine. For the little girls it’s bath. For the big kids it’s homework—but…it is 7:00 pm and my kids are all playing, for lack of a better title: “Going on the airplane to Nana & Papa’s with a stop at a hotel in-between, because, lets face it, hotels are fun.” I haven’t the heart to break it up. Mainly because they’re downstairs and I’m upstairs and it’s quiet up here. I can barely hear their slight screaming. I’ll just turn Neil Young up louder and finish folding laundry. And then maybe sit still under a ceiling fan and contemplate the universe [nap].

Is it bad to neglect the bedtime routine on a school night?

P.S. Do you know how hard it is to clean up an entire 'cup of noodles' off the kitchen floor? I'll give you a hint: it's definitely not easy.

Ask a Parenting Expert.

2009-09-08T09:39:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

As you know I am a next to 'perfect' parent so this information isn't meant for me (you understand). However, many of you may be struggling with raising your children.

You know things like:

making your 9-year-old cry everyday when you say the most harmless words, "time to practice piano."
your 2 and 4-year-olds simply saying 'no' when you ask them to do things.
also, hearing the phrase, "I don't want to be your friend anymore." more frequently than you would like.
yelling at your children.
not really knowing what you're doing.
a 2-year-old that poops in her pants, but it's ok because "it's just a baby poop mommy."
a 7-year-old boy who refuses to cut his hair.
exactly four children who refuse to eat anything that requires 'time and effort' on my (I mean your) part.
this really high pitched screaming that only dogs should be able to hear, but unfortunately for me (I mean you), is somehow heard on a frequency that is heard throughout the neighborhood.

Like I said, I don't really know why it's so hard for some of you. I had to call some friends to get some examples of less than exemplary behavior. I know what you're thinking, quite a coincidence that the examples are all the same ages as my kids. I know, weird isn't it? Purely coincidental.

Anyway, my mother-in-law is quite a childhood development expert and is going to be participating in a teleconference. I don't know exactly how this works except that it's sort of like a podcast/radio interview that you listen to over your phone. She will be covering things like:

Participants will learn:

1. The 10 times that children are most likely to misbehave

2. Why what we say is not as important as how we say it

3. How to be Kind and Firm at the same time

4. That “inviting” cooperation is better than demanding compliance

I don't know about you, but those seem to be things that would be interesting to know, if in fact you had children who misbehaved. I'm not going to mention any names, but Sadie, this might be good for you and the Ceej. It might be time for him to start using a spoon (I was specifically thinking of Kind and Firm).

Here's the link to hook you up. You can thank me later.
Oh, yeah...and it's free.

Grandma Laurie's Sage Parenting Advice

Emily

What We've Been Doing.

2009-09-02T09:51:00.000-07:00

Not necessarily in this order:

Playing Little House in the Prairie with our BFF Amy.

Playing with our new chickens Gabriella and Zena and our new baby chicks. This one is Princess Leia.

Playing outside.

Folding Laundry.

Eating cupcakes with our cousins at Baby Luke and Leia's baby shower. (a.k.a. Elise & Isaac's twins)

Alice & I on a trip to Logan for said baby shower. We had a wonderful and amazing time.

This is candy for those of you who didn't recognize it.

Enjoying the garden. I guess all that work was worth it.

The first day of school--it wasn't as painful as I thought. Actually it was pretty painless.

Enjoying our new chicken coop that our summer teenager, Jed, built. Jed was the best helper, au' pair, babysitter, chicken coop builder and golf cart wrecker we have ever had!
Canyon, on seeing the chicken coop: "Mom, I was thinking about the coup and I think it's good that it's camouflage because I think that a fox will come over here and think, 'Oh, there's just a little forest over there.' and then leave without eating the chickens."
I don't know if that's how it went down but we haven't lost a chicken since even though I have seen a fox lurking about the property.

We are happily settling into schedules but miss our summer days and especially summer nights. I guess though, in retrospect, summer wouldn't be so special if we didn't have school to attend to all the rest of the year.

A Midsummer Night's Dream.

2009-08-11T07:59:00.000-07:00

While summer is quickly soaring by and all the regrets of things left undone are settling in, there is, at least one thing that we’ve accomplished this year. A summer tradition arching way back into time to the summers of my youth that Lily and Canyon have whole-heartedly embraced: sleeping outside on the trampoline. It only took one night a few weeks ago to get them hooked and we haven’t looked back, they have slept out there nearly every night since. I’ve been more than a little impressed as we’ve had a coldish summer so far and the fog bank reaches our house most nights which means that it’s cold. It hasn’t stopped them and I keep explaining that it’ll be even better when we actually have a warm night. After the first few nights of sleeping out there, Canyon promptly told me:

“Mom, I think the big dipper is going to stay. I’ve been watching it for the past few nights and it hasn’t even moved. It’s probably going to stay at our house for a while.”

Yes. The big dipper isn’t going anywhere. So they trudge out there every night with arms loaded with sleeping bags, pillows, flashlights and books. We go out with them and watch the meteor showers and sometimes even cheat while naming the planets and stars with my new iphone ap: My Universe. How very unromantic, I know.

So it was one of these nights, out there, while laying under the stars that I told them about Shakespeare. We just happen to live backed-up to a vineyard and out past our eucalyptus tree across the acres of tidy green rows of grapes is the white vineyard ‘castle house’ where fairyland exists. We have often been enraptured with the vineyard. We sometimes walk there in the evenings and ‘trespass’ by the green and manicured tasting lawns and marvel at the restored 100-year-old Victorian “castle house.” But this year, this year—fairyland is actually there—and we didn’t even have to imagine it. Oberon, Titania, Puck and others have been frequenting the vineyard—every weekend from 7:30-10:00 for an excessive fee. While we didn’t have it in us (or in our pockets) to actually attend this backyard Shakespeare festival—we would lay on the trampoline and listen to the applause and laughter of the obviously delighted audience. I explained who Shakespeare was to the kids and promised them that next year I would take them. But somehow, as we lay there at 10:30 all snuggled up in sleeping bags and exclaiming at meteors—and we heard the cheering for the final curtain call, I realized that we’re not quite ready—eyelids already drooping and something just as magical, if that’s even possible, as Shakespeare’s play: a real midsummer night’s dream.

Alice's Birthday: or 'Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope.'

2009-07-28T19:43:00.000-07:00

Here's the breakdown of Alice's birthday. I think the pictures tell it all.

Yay! Alice is four now.
By the way, in case you couldn't tell--the soft Princess Leia doll was a HUGE hit.

Also, notice how very dirty and tired all of those little campers are.

Lake Tahoe

2009-07-23T15:38:00.000-07:00

There’s something magical about…

sleeping all together in a cozy little tent-trailer—
the stars seeming so much closer and brighter—you can almost touch them
swimming at seven in the morning in crisp (that means cold), very clear, and glassy water—underneath rainbow colored hot-air balloons
listening to bears all night long—
listening to teenagers all night long—I prefer the bears.
opening your favorite present on your fourth birthday—an enchanting and painstakingly detailed (thanks Jill) Princess Leia doll—
having cupcakes and cobbler and watermelon and and dutch oven potatoes and Fred Flinstone steaks from your steer (seriously…they were HUGE)
spending all day in the sunshine, burning feet on hot golden sand, cooling off in the lake, climbing the pier pole, jumping in, kayaking and having as Canyon said after spending the day in the kayak, “the best day of my life.”
very dirty feet and not caring much about it—
homemade ice-cream with Ranger Pat—
lots of bug-bites and sunburns—
and some night swimming with a bunch of middle-aged—but extremely giggly girls—
catching, boiling, and eating crawdads with Uncle Jeremy—like a little piece of lobster heaven right in our camp
holding baby Jed and visiting with Aunt Laura and Uncle Bill who were very accommodating personal shoppers and who happily provided cupcakes to a four year old who didn’t believe that cobbler counted as a ‘Birthday’
like I said…magical.

4th of July.

2009-07-07T15:55:00.000-07:00

July 7, 2009

Our 4th of July was packed with adventure. Enough adventure to last us a whole week. It began with Lily & Canyon’s first swim meet. They have been on the swim team this summer and have been practicing really hard. We were finally around for a swim meet and so were able to go. Lily was great and really enjoyed it as did Canyon. It was a little stressful for me, though, making sure that they were in the right places at the right time. We had a couple of close calls, but we made it to the starting block for every event. I am really impressed with how they run these summer leagues here. Growing up, our swim meets seemed so much more serious. In fact, I remember that in my first swim meet I got disqualified for breaking my stroke (on breaststroke) as I was pulling off my goggles that had come of during my start. Not the best way for a little kid to get started. In the meets here, there is practically no disqualification under the age of 10 and even then, only if it’s pretty obvious. Therefore, the meet was really fun to watch as the little kids pretty much did whatever they could to get across the pool. Canyon even had one of the older girls in the lane with him. He didn’t need her to be in there for safety, but was nervous…so she just swam along beside him offering encouragement. The key to these meets is for everyone to have fun and they give ribbons to everyone in every event. It was great! Canyon was so excited to get his ribbons the next day. I’ve been so proud of the kids, they have done so well with swimming. They haven’t complained about the hour-long practices everyday and they have truly enjoyed it. Plus, the bonus is that they are such better swimmers now.

Lily, getting ready to start the 50 free.

Canyon and his emotional crutch and biggest crush of his life so far: Alexa.
(I just wish she could go to school with him)

Saturday night we had our annual 4th of July party. We had a BBQ and played volleyball until it got dark. The food was amazing and I had asked people to bring dessert and we were about to delve into the amazing things people brought when our neighbors brought over three Cold Stone ice-cream cakes. Yes, three. We ate so much, I think everyone was going to burst. The kids played and played outside and were verifiably (is that a word?) dirty by the end of the night. Volleyball was, as usual, a blast and we played until we couldn’t see the ball anymore and then afterwords we all bundled up in the back of the barn to watch the fireworks (somehow it’s always cold on the 4th of July). There was no end to Jane’s exclamations of “Wow!” She especially appreciated the fireworks that were pink or purple. There’s something about the 4th of July that’s so great. I think part of it is that it’s the only major holiday that takes place in the summer and there’s just something magical about summer and summer traditions.

We are now readying to embark on our next summer tradition: camping at Tahoe—this is our absolute favorite and I think that my kids look forward to this even more than they look forward to Christmas.

Summer

2009-06-25T16:35:00.000-07:00

Our first family photo in, like, forever.

Me, Lily, Alice and Papa in the park.

I’m embarrassed about the amount of time that has gone by on this blog…unattended, lonely, deserted, abandoned while I have been having the time of my life! After the insane whirlwind of the last week of school we headed out on a week long vacation across (as Lily so astutely pointed out) five states in 48 hours. Not a small feat for those of us fortunate enough to live in the west. I’ve never really spent any time in the east, so I shouldn’t judge it—but I definitely think I’m a western girl and I love, love those wide open desert skies, rugged mountain peaks and coldness (yes, cold—I know we don’t have the balmy Atlantic) of the wild Pacific. We drove across California, through Nevada (with its big skies and green desert), to Utah to stop one night and then through a corner of Idaho with its beautiful farm houses and lilacs everywhere! to our destination—Wyoming. We stayed in Jackson Hole with my parents, Sadie and the Ceej and we had a fantastic time. Dustin had never been to Jackson Hole and fell in love with it. He has been trying to figure out how we can just drop everything and move there (I’m never going to leave California though, he’ll have to go without me). We went to Grand Teton National Park and oohed and aahed our way through the green valleys nestled oh-so-close to those sudden peaks. There were wildflowers everywhere, animals everywhere, and the kids were as happy to be there as we were. We went on some hikes and were so happy to see that Alice was able to maintain her hiking enthusiasm even after her virgin hike in Yosemite. She was amazing and hiked some serious three mile terrain without even pausing for breath as she talked and talked and talked (mostly about the pale blue butterflies that were everywhere). Canyon and Lily are coming into their own and hiked ahead with Papa; too serious of hikers to stay with Alice and I. Jane was content to ride in the pack on Dustin’s back and even got a few naps in.

We also took a ferry across Jenny Lake and did some more hiking the next day. The mud was a bit hazardous, but when Alice finally gave up on trying to keep her shoes clean…we were ok. We decided that we have to go back, but next time we’re camping. Oh, and we got to see a moose. Yes, a moose, up close—a few feet away. Jane wasn’t all that impressed. She wondered why everyone was so excited about a horse.

Dustin & Alice on Jenny Lake

The Moose

We went back to Logan and had a great time. We went to Summerfest, listened to some great music, were obsessed with baby CJ, and pulled off a great Retirement party for papa which included playing with the Scott girls who had so dutifully hidden their arrival for a whole day without seeing Papa. We had a wonderful time and after a long 12 hour drive home and we finally pulled in the driveway, Jane shrieked (as if she suddenly realized we had been driving all day) that she wanted to go back to Nana and Papa’s house. Canyon was still sullen the next day because he was sorry to be gone. We could’ve stayed another week—but are happy to be home and in the swing of swim team and summer library visits. Aaaah, summer…I love it!

The trooper: Alice

Lilies and Strawberries.

2009-05-27T09:38:00.000-07:00

The strawberries.

It’s a good thing that Lily’s birthday is in May because I don’t thing there’s one thing that this girl loves more than strawberries—and so we always manage to have some on her cake. She declared that this year’s cake is her ‘favorite’ and I was happy—with the help of the strawberry field down the street—to oblige. She is turning into such an amazing little helper and the wit that accompanies her voracious reading habit is quite sassy. She was pleased with her birthday ‘swag,’ which included a new watch, books (of course), and a Stanford hoodie (thanks to Erika and Kim—my mom team who pulled off a last minute Stanford Bookstore run for me). I can’t believe that in a year she’ll be in double digits—it seems like she was, only just yesterday, the continually nursing baby (happy for me, though, because while she nursed—I read Lord of the Rings). How fast the time has gone and those quiet days of one baby are gone and our life is a whirlwind of adventure.

Happy Birthday Lily.

I love this picture of Lily laughing at her little sisters as they sing, sing, sing.
Jane was certain that it was her birthday.

Finding Myself.

2009-05-19T14:01:00.000-07:00

One of the hardest things about becoming a mother is losing a part of you that you’ll never be again. After Lily was born, it wasn’t the all-night feedings, the nursing difficulties, the sleep deprivation or the constant worry that shocked me. What shocked me was the inability to be what I had, up until then, always been. I had to finally resolve to become a different sort of person, a version of the old me, true—but at the same time—different. As I slowly embraced the new me of motherhood, I also grieved for the old me and while this process gets easier it never really goes away. Now that I’m officially a mother (I suppose that having four kids does that to you), I have almost forgotten what that old me is all about. Almost everything that I do now, involves my kids in some form or another and I complacently allow my old habits and sensibilities to fade slowly away. Sometimes I worry that when my kids are gone, will I be interesting? Can I be defined by something other than Lily, Canyon, Alice or Jane’s mom? I found out this past week that yes, I can.

I found myself again.

Born to schoolteachers, my siblings and I had the fortunate opportunity to ‘grow up’ at summer scout camps. We spent our summers swimming, sailing, boating, tying knots, hiking, and basking in creative outdoor time that began and ended with the rising and setting of the sun. We were dirty, happy, sunburned, and tired. We fell asleep every night, exhausted, as our mother read ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ And we believed in Laura’s life on the prairie…because we were living it. We grew up to become scouters and counselors and we began to teach our unique skills to twelve-year-old boys who were as eager to learn as we were to teach. We learned about hard work, service, and we had a great time. We saw the sunrise over the lake every morning and every night we pondered the milky moonpath on the still water and seemed so close to the stars that we could almost hear their conversations. I loved it. It defined who I am. It gave me confidence and self-awareness.

I was asked, this year, to be on staff at BSA’s National Camp School to train camp Aquatic’s Directors. It is something that I did a few times before I was married and even early in my marriage, but not something that I thought I would go back to. With Dustin’s encouragement I decided to go and after I gathered up a village to help with the kids—I packed my bags and went to Camp Tracy in Salt Lake’s Millcreek Canyon for eight days. I have never been away from my kids for that long and was nervous and emotional to leave. I went, I taught, I rowed, I canoed, I had fun and developed relationships and, guess what, I wasn’t Lily or Canyon or Alice or Jane’s mom—I wasn’t even Marty’s sister (Marty was also there…which is another delightful aspect to this story)—I was me. I had a wonderful time. I was exhausted, yet fulfilled. I came home to a family who missed me and appreciated me. Dustin did a great job with the kids all week. I know that it had to take a great deal of patience and sacrifice for him to work and be solely responsible for the kids after hours.

This was a great ‘break’ for me—an opportunity for me to realize that I can hang on to the old me without feeling guilty. You might read this and say ‘duh.’ But this past week was truly revealing to me and I hope that this revelation will help me to be a better mother and a better wife…because there’s a little bit of the old me still in there and, when it’s time, she’s coming back out.

California=Cold

2009-04-28T07:55:00.000-07:00

Remember when I was being so smug about how warm it was here in California, and I was talking about spring and warm grass and flowers and blossoms and oranges, remember that? Well, it is officially spring now because it is so cold and windy. It'll be like this now until summer. FREEZING. So, now that the rest of you can enjoy a true spring, with snow melting and all that, we'll bundle up and layer to get out into the off shore gale force winds. Hope you have a great warm day. We'll be huddled in the house around the heat vents.

Yosemite & Canyon's Birthday

2009-04-21T14:02:00.000-07:00

Dustin made it to Yosemite on his bicycle with nary a glitch. Our only complaint, Uncle Dean, is that they charged the cyclists $10 to get into the park. What’s up with that? It seems that they should be rewarding the environmentally conscious who choose to bike in. Besides paying for 10 sag cars and several camping spots. Some of the riders, rather than pay the $10, waited for a sag vehicle got in and rode across the entrance in the car, got back out and continued their ride. This did little to dampen the weekend, however, and we had an amazing time—as we always do in Yosemite. The weather was beautiful and the blossoms and wildflowers were everywhere as well as hundreds of waterfalls. We only encountered two bears, though, which is a little disappointing—but otherwise saw everything we wanted to see. The kids and I hiked to the bottom of Vernal Falls and I was excited for Alice to be on her first ‘real’ hike. She did amazing…I only had to hold her hand and remind her that she was hiking just like Heidi and Peter do with the goats. Jane did well enough in the backpack, but was itching to get out and hike on her own (something I was not willing to commit to). The kids loved playing on the rocks and in the caves, wading in the creeks, making bark ships to sail down the Merced, and eat as much trail mix as they could inhale. We were sorry to leave, and, as always happens when we leave, we regret that we don’t come more often.

We were back in time to properly celebrate Canyon’s birthday on Sunday. Canyon, for the first time, has been counting down the days to his birthday for several months. I have been nervous because I was afraid, with that much anticipation, that I could not live up to his expectations. He had a great day though, and I think was happy with the peanut butter brownies, new legos, books on his new facination—mummies—and from Glen, tickets to see the King Tut exhibit that’s coming to San Francisco this summer. He was happy to announce to anyone and everyone that he’s seven and “so glad that I’m seven now.” We are happily settling in to post spring break mode and gearing up for the next great adventure that is summer.

Holiday

2009-04-12T10:23:00.000-07:00

Remember that nice warm weather we've been having? Apparently now that it's spring break nature has decided to be windy and cold. We had to work out in the garden yesterday with LAYERS! We will be going to Yosemite...and hope that it's better weather there. Dustin's riding his bike there and we'll be driving. It'll take him three days and me...3 hours.

Have a great Easter!

<--- Those are Alice's feet next to some of many hundreds of mushrooms we had this year. And yes, those are also almond blossoms--our version of snow.

On Astronomy

2009-03-30T11:18:00.000-07:00

We hosted Papa Scott’s sixtieth birthday this weekend and among other nice things, which included fantastic tacos, spicy salsa, pineapple upside-down cake, and grown men singing aloud to Paint Your Wagon, we had a fire on the patio to sit around when it got chilly and the brothers played guitars well into the night. It was a crisp, clear, and dark night—so the stars were especially bright. The moon was a sliver of a crescent and, in my astronomical naiveté, I asked Lily to show me some of the constellations. Ask your eight-year-old daughter about constellations, you ask? Yes. In case you didn’t know…she wants to be an astronomer. She doesn’t just want to be an astronomer the way that many eight-year-olds would say when an adult asks the inevitable ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ question. She wants to be an astronomer and she studies it now. She’s working on a star chart and she has a moon chart that she updates every night. If you need to know what the moon is doing, ask her. There are terms flying around our house that I don’t even pretend to understand, like ‘waxing gibbous’ and ‘waning crescent.’ I once asked her to explain it to me and she broke apart an oreo and we had a ‘moon phases’ lecture in the middle of lunch.

So I asked her as we were snuggled up listening to the guitar music and warmed by the fire to tell me about the moon tonight. She looked up and told me what phase we were in and then announced that this phase was her ‘lucky moon.’

“Why is it your lucky moon?” I asked

“Because this is what the moon looked like on the night I was born.”

I had no idea what the moon looked like on the night she was born. In my defense…I was a little preoccupied—but so impressed that she had found a chart and figured out somehow what the moon was doing when she entered this world. While I may be no astronomer, I am a lover of words and ideas and this ‘birth moon’ idea that she had come up with satisfied me like a well-written poem. It made me realize how out of touch we are with the natural world. All those people that came before us that structured their lives around the cycles of the moon and if you asked a woman in as little as a hundred years ago, she would remember exactly what phase the moon was at as each of her children were born.

I found this in Lily's papers. It explains everything.

Lily’s fascination with the night sky has brought a fresh perspective to our family—and we have been able to spend time looking out in the night. Counting the stars and even going to the observatory to see the moon, planets and constellations brightly through a 36” reflector telescope. We listen to nerdy astronomers excitedly explain the ‘seven sisters’ constellation and bemoan to each other that looking at the moon through the 36” telescope is a ‘such a waste.’

So I suppose we might be turning into those nerds as we excitedly wait for the night sky to fill in with a million dots of light—but I’m happy that we can enjoy something that’s so much bigger than our lives and LOVE that I can learn about it from my daughter.

Just Doing our Part to Stimulate the Economy.

2009-03-16T13:18:00.001-07:00

Disneyland. Enough Said.

The Girls

The boys

The End.

Emily's French Bread.

2009-02-25T13:32:00.000-08:00

Just before hitting that blast of heat.

In anticipation of the apology that I owe you for that last ‘rub it in your face’ post—and due to a frantic EMERGENCY phone call from Marty asking for my bread recipe…I have decided to post my ‘infamous’ French bread recipe in the hopes that you all will forgive me. So whip these babies up, make yourself a cup of soup, and wrap yourselves up in fleeces and blankets by the fire while I go outside to read my book in the sunshine (I think I got a sunburn today). This is especially for Marty and Bonnie and John (via Brooke) as a congratulations treat.

Ingredients:

¼ cup hot water
2 cups warm whole milk
5 teaspoons active dry yeast
some honey (a lot or a little, depending on your taste: maybe ¼ cup)
a pinch of sugar
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 tablespoon salt
6 ½ cups of flour (ish: ish means more or less if necessary)
oil for greasing

Method:

In a bowl, combine the water and ¼ cup of the milk. Sprinkle the yeast and the pinch of sugar over the liquid and stir to dissolve. Let stand until foamy.

In a mixer combine the remaining milk, the butter, the honey, salt and 2 cups of the flour. Beat until creamy. Add the yeast mixture and the remaining flour one cup at a time, until the dough pulls away from the bowl sides. Knead on low speed until smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes.

Transfer the dough to an oiled deep bowl and turn the dough once to coat it. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until doubled in bulk, about 1 ½ hours.

Flour a smooth work surface, half the dough and role out half of it into a rectangle. Roll the dough up—like a tube—and use a knife to slash divots in it (is that a word) place on a greased cookie sheet and if you want to be really fancy sprinkle the cookie sheet with cornmeal first. Repeat with remaining dough. Then cover loosely with a cloth and let rise again (It usually takes less than an hour, but—as we’ve already determined it’s a lot warmer here) until it’s doubled. Another optional, but fancy, step is to lightly brush with egg white (this browns it real nice).

The rectangle size-ish.

The tubes: slashed and ready to burn.

Doubled in size and ready to bake.

Bake in the oven at 375 for about 25 minutes until the loaves are golden brown. Then slice, put some yummy butter (watch it melt), pig out, and wake up in the morning ten pounds heavier.

I guarantee you’ll love this bread and impress anyone who tries it. Good luck! If you are having any problems with this recipe…don’t call me.

Golden brown...smells so good!!!

Not to Rub it In....But...

2009-02-23T08:12:00.000-08:00

Yes, that's Alice and Jane in our backyard. And yes, those are bare legs, green grass, and a sunset.

And, yes, that's our Almond tree--in full bloom.

Sucks to be you!

(did I mention it's February?)

Life is Good

2009-02-17T12:46:00.000-08:00

A conversation with Lily as she’s cleaning up the hundreds and hundreds of UNO cards littered across the living room floor by two adoring younger sisters—on her watch.

Lily: (with attitude) You know those t-shirts that say ‘Life is Good?’

Me: Yeah.

Lily: They should make t-shirt’s that say ‘Life’s unfair.’

On Sleeping.

2009-02-06T13:17:00.000-08:00

So I had mentioned in the previous blog about Jane and her crib climbing adventures. We put a stop to it by just removing the crib altogether. Alice was still using the toddler bed and so armed with a gift certificate to IKEA we went in search of another toddler bed. Alas, unbeknownst to me the toddler beds at IKEA cost more than $125. I just couldn’t see myself spending more for a bed that was hopefully, oh so temporary. In the mean time we tried a little toddler bed of our nephews. Jane was so excited about it during the day…however, as soon as the sun went down it became her worst enemy.

We were all in tears every night (and by we I mean Alice, Jane and I) as we searched for a bedtime routine that would be reminiscent of the ol’ crib days. Ah, the nostalgia for the crib. One night Jane finally hopped in Alice’s tiny toddler bed with her and slept peacefully all night (I was in such shocking awe that I, unfortunately, didn’t get a photo of it). So my problem was solved. We brought the mattress up from the guest bed downstairs, plopped it on the floor, threw some semblance of a quilt on top and—ta da—we have ourselves a bed.

Here are two views of the new bed; with the little kitchen, the Trieste grow chart and the other with the reading chair & table.

Don’t get too excited yet it’s taken a few ornery-mom nights to get them to settle down, but I finally found the formula: bunny books in chair, lights out, ‘Little House’ for at least a chapter. It seems to be working. And, bonus, we get to learn things from Mary and Laura like ‘children should be seen and not heard,’ and other classic phrases of the like.

The book routine; it's delicate, like mixing a cocktail. Ahem. At least I think it is.

The only problem now is—we don’t have a bed for Nana and Papa. We’ll have to remedy that soon because we are BEGGING for a visit. (wink, wink)

Jane On Her Birthday.

2009-02-03T14:31:00.000-08:00

So, my baby has turned two and is officially a STINKER. What is it about two years? She refuses, suddenly, to go to nursery, refuses to take naps, climbs out of her crib many times a night, needs some serious ‘Little House’ reading to go to sleep at night, says “no” often and with a vigilance never before recorded by someone so tiny. It’s a good thing she’s cute and says “I love you” with such passion. All I know is…I hope this will be the last time I have to grapple with a two year old (at least on a daily basis). In the meantime we will keep her and love her despite her ‘two-ness.’ Ahem. I guess.

This is her new attitude.

I Quit.

2009-01-23T10:38:00.000-08:00

I have been overwhelmed with laundry. Last night I asked for help from some person who lives in our house and who has the ability to fold laundry. It didn’t happen. So I didn’t fold the laundry. When I got home from swimming this morning this was the state of the clean laundry basket. Everyone ravished it for clean clothes and went on their way. It hadn’t occurred to me that this would be ok. But --here’s a secret-- apparently they don’t care if you fold their clothes or not. They wear them just the same. That’ll cut down on several hours a week. I’m so EXCITED!

You can thank me later for the tip.

A Conversation about Chickens.

2009-01-21T09:26:00.000-08:00

A baby chicken hawk we found out by the coop one night.
It was smaller than the chickens but eying them with predatory instincts.
The chickens were FREAKING out.

We are living in a tiny ecosystem and even though it’s hard to imagine that nature is still natural in our little suburban bubble…it does exist. I am particularly talking about survival and chickens. We have had several instances of chicken death (besides the hatchet and roast chicken for Sunday dinner): our neighbor’s dogs, chicken hawks, perhaps an owl and now—a mystery predator. We think it’s either a coyote, fox, or even a possum or skunk? Not really sure, all we know is that something found our chickens and they’re reliving a culinary dream every night. We find the fence torn into, feathers EVERYWHERE and a missing chicken or chickens (sometimes with parts left behind). It’s a mystery and we can’t stop it. So here’s the conversation between my husband and I:

Dustin: You know, Ma would’ve figured out how to protect her chickens by now.

Me: Pa would’ve slept outside with his gun and killed whatever was getting his chickens.

Dustin: Pa would’ve been on his 40 mile trek to town with his pelts and his wheat; getting essential supplies to keep his family alive (you know, things like sugar and white flour).

Me: Well, Pa would’ve seen to it that Mr. Edwards was doing the chores and Mr. Edwards would have, FOR SURE, slept by the woodpile to kill the chicken killer. Or he would’ve at least left a gun above the door, loaded, for Ma to use. I’m just sayin’.

Dustin: speechless.

To Librarians Everywhere: Angels That You Are.

2009-01-16T15:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Librarians,

Once again, you have pulled through for us. For the first time in a long time (since I was a girl marathon reading with my own mother), I have had to “share” a book. And when I say ‘share’ I mean it very loosely, a better definition would be sheer literary subterfuge as I snatch said books from a sleeping daughter and she, as cleverly, klepts mine into her backpack as she rushes off to school.

It all started when I decided that I’d better take a book to Disneyworld to read to the kids. I picked a book I’ve been wanting to read: The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan. I started reading it out loud to them at Disneyworld and right away Lily wanted to ‘read ahead.’ So she started taking it—and—let it be known that I also wanted to ‘read ahead’ and so the battle began. Luckily I had the foresight to download it onto some i pods—but Lily and I both prefer reading to listening…so it continued to be a fight for the book. I also made the mistake of leaving it out while my brother-in-law was here and he started reading it too. Now it was even being stolen and taken out of the house! There were three of us reading one book…and none of us were going to finish it because most of our time was spent coming up with elaborate plans to steal the book. This had to stop. On Tuesday Jane and I walked to the library and I pleaded to you to help me. You didn’t even bat an eye and within five minutes had two book ones for me, a book two, and two book twos on hold in neighboring libraries. I spent the rest of the day driving from library to library (I couldn’t even wait a day for them to deliver to my library) to get all the books. Whew. You saved our lives. We can read now, quietly, without guilt and in perfect harmony—no more middle of the night ninja larceny. In time, we may even be able to laugh about it.

I also happen to know some librarians personally and know how seriously they take their jobs and how grateful we are to you for always finding us what we need; be it new recommendations for a voracious eight-year-old, Star Wars encyclopedias for a six-year-old padawan-in-training, and princess recommendations for Alice in Whineyland and Jane the Beguiling Terror. We will return our books promptly and pay our sixty cent fine (from some previous minor infraction). We thank you, once again with humility in our hearts and apologize to any local Rick Riordan fans as we have literally cleaned the Library of any evidence that he even existed.

Our hearts are with you always—faithful, dutiful Librarians.

With deepest regard,
Emily Prusso

On Disneyworld.

2009-01-13T12:58:00.000-08:00

We are back from Disneyworld and we had, if you can imagine, an amazing time. The kids were great…Lily and Canyon were real troopers as they had to hike around sans stroller (Canyon was known to sneak a ride here and there) and Jane and Alice did well sans naps. We had help from our friend Jed and Dustin’s Uncle Bill and Aunt Laura. It was nice to have a ½ dozen extra hands to keep track of the kids. We also were introduced to the world of pin trading and Lily latched onto that and LOVED it. She was able to collect (with the help of generous friends and family) a dozen or so pins. Canyon was not interested in it as it requires talking to strangers and Alice had difficulty with the concept of ‘trading.’ She seemed to think that people should just give her pins without any in return. Jane, well, she was pretty clueless and was more interested in playing with straws than anything else. Here are the highlights of each park:

Hollywood Studios:
• A life size Imperial Walker.
• Indiana Jones stunt show
• Rockin’ Rollin’ Rollercoaster (I’m taking Lily’s word on this)

Animal Kingdom
• Seeing ‘real’ animals (as opposed to the Jungle Cruise at DL)
• A great playground and tons of stuff for the little ones including: nature walks, rides, shows, characters
• The ‘Everest’ rollercoaster ride. Lily went on it 11 times.
• Talking Canyon into an intense dinosaur ride and watching his terrified face (now, that’s the only thing that he talks about).

Epcot:
• Sneaking Alice onto Test Track and her LOVING it (never to be able to get her on again)
• Mission to Space (I’m taking that one on others’ councils as you’ll NEVER see me on that ride)
• Soarin’ Over California (making us a little homesick)
• And the countries and kidcot (where the kids decorate a mask and gather tokens from each country): Canada, Britain, France, Japan, Morocco, Colonial America, Italy, Germany, China, Norway, and Mexico—I LOVE epcot and seeing all the countries.
• The fireworks

Magic Kingdom
• Tom Sawyer Island (of course)
• Fireworks and a Castle that changes colors every few minutes
• A really smooth Thunder Mountain and a not so smooth Space Mountain
• Seeing castles and princesses, it’s a Small World and Peter Pan
• The Monsters Inc. comedy show (really funny—and not at DL)

We spent our last day at Animal Kingdom again because it was so great. We could’ve easily spent another week there—but I think our kids teachers would’ve freaked out! It’s nice to be home again and we’ll just have to let the memories sustain us for a few more years before we can take another trip back there.

Jane's Favorite ride.

2009

2009-01-02T13:43:00.000-08:00

This isn't actually a picture from New Year's Eve. It is a picture from a few weeks ago. I would've posted a picture of us on New Year's Eve, but I didn't think that anyone would be really interested in us lounging around on the couch...falling asleep around 9:30--hey, at least we made it till an east coast midnight.

Notes on Christmas

2008-12-31T12:14:00.000-08:00

We had a wonderful Christmas. Here are some of the highlights.
• Beginning with a rainy trip to San Anselmo to visit Papa and Katrina.
• A Christmas Eve of new pajamas, hot chocolate, The Nativity, and falling asleep to Swiss Family Robinson.
• Canyon sneaking into the family room to announce calmly that: “Guys…Santa did come.”
• Alice opening and loving her Princess Leia Barbie.
• Canyon jumping up and down upon opening his Star Wars lego shuttle from Nana & Papa.
• Dustin, Lily, and Canyon spending the rest of the day putting together said shuttle.
• Jane opening her dolly and within five minutes “giving” it to Alice (at least according to Alice).
• My new rain jacket I was coveting.
• Lots and lots and lots of kitchen supplies for ‘The Barn.’
• Having an amazing Christmas dinner with family and playing with our new toys with our cousins.
• Watching Wall-e that night, exhausted, but snuggly in our new pajamas.

We then had a few great days spending time with Brooke and her darling, amazing, smart boys playing outside in the sunshine, legos, a trip to the movies, and yummy sushi.

The relative calm before the storm.

Dustin and the Star Wars shuttle.

The state of the family room after.

Alice and Princess Leia.

What's a girl to do?

2008-12-22T12:58:00.000-08:00

So Alice, yes we’re talking about Alice again, is not like Lily. Maybe that is obvious to most of you parents out there…that your kids are different. It’s adjusting to these differences that takes a little effort. So Lily is not, except for a few month stint when she was two, the girly girl type. She’s not necessarily a tom boy, but she’s just less interested in princesses and the color pink. Alice was born a princess and Jane is quietly following suit. While embracing every whim and sensibility that define what a princess is…she has recently taken an interesting turn brought about by this household's OBSESSION with Star Wars. She officially LOVES Princess Leia and just to qualify the differences between Leia and, let’s say, Sleeping Beauty—in Alice’s own words (as she’s watching Princess Leia strangle Jabba the Hut): “Mommy, Princess Leia can save herself!” So the light went on and Alice realized that she doesn’t need a prince if she’s a Leia. Let’s just say that she’s not waiting for a prince to come and rescue her.

So when Alice insisted on a Barbie for Christmas I did what every self-respecting mother of a princess would do: I went to the Disney web site and found a myriad of Barbie princesses (on sale even). As I’m browsing through the Snow Whites and Cinderellas I casually ask Alice which princess she wants and….duh…she wants Princess Leia. So, the Leia barbies are only hundreds of dollars on ebay, collectables of course. They probably haven’t made a Leia Barbie since 1979. So, what’s a girl to do? So I pooled all of my mom resources and made myself a Princess Leia Barbie. My friend Jill who also happens to be an expert on barbies, a seamstress, and a creative mastermind agreed to make the Leia costume. Then she coached me on what Barbie to try and find to substitute for Leia. Apparently I needed to find a Barbie with hair already parted in the middle (so we could make the infamous buns) because, unbeknownst to me, you can’t just part a barbie’s hair wherever you want (these are the sorts of things I need to learn). I found a perfectly respectable Dorothy (Wiz of Oz) Barbie on Amazon for $12. She passed the Jill hair test and we were in business. The dress, of course, is perfect and to add to the outfit, I raided all of my friends, who are mothers of girls, Barbie stashes and stole some Hannah Montana boots from Trisha’s daughters. In case you didn’t know, Hannah Montana boots look a lot like Princess Leia boots. And finally, my talented sister-in-law, Trieste, personalized the cardboard suitcase I got for her and her Barbie. The whole ensemble: Barbie, dress, boots, suitcase, was much, much less than the ebay Leia—and, in my opinion, better. What Alice will probably never understand, maybe until she’s a mother, is how many people and resources pulled together to get her a Princess Leia doll—in the hopes that she can one day kick some Jabba butt.

Somthing About the Christmas Season.

2008-12-09T14:38:00.000-08:00

I know that my parents agree that In-N-Out Burger is a magical place. Well, we have proof. We went to In-N-Out for dinner the other night for dinner. It was one of those rare occasions when I didn’t make dinner and Dustin was too hungry for pancakes (usually he’s totally ok with pancakes). We got all the food and all six of us squeezed into a little booth. We were just being our natural charming selves, eating our fries, fighting over shakes and guarding our diet coke with an unrivaled passion (that last one was mostly me), when a man came over to our table. Dustin said later that he was sure that the guy was panhandling and was drumming up an excuse not to give him some money when he said: “I hope that you and your kids have a Merry Christmas,” set something on the table and jetted out the door. It took us a few moments to realize that he had so casually given us a hundred dollar bill. Wow. Dustin’s mouth was officially opened in disbelief. It was a little weird and awkward at first, I mean who gives complete strangers a hundred dollars? Don’t get me wrong…the awkwardness wore off really fast. We then became infamous to that In-N-Out crowd.

Guy at the table next to us: “Wow, what just happened?”

Us: “That guy just gave us a hundred bucks.”

Him: “Wow, what’d he say?”

Us: “He just said Merry Christmas.”

Him: “Wow, you don’t see that everyday.”

Later, Dustin and I wondered why he gave us the money. As far as we know, we didn’t look too white trash, our kids were somewhat clean and we seemed to have plenty of French fries and burgers for everyone (we were making them share milkshakes though…). We finally decided that he was charmed by our family, Dustin’s obvious love for me, Lily’s witty remarks, Canyon’s freckles, Alice’s spunk, and Jane’s pretty smile. Our friends, respectfully, disagree. They think that it was the sheer number of kids—I mean we obviously have a lot of presents to buy. I like to think that we charmed him.

Anyway, as much as I would love to spend that money on me, me, and me—we decided that the best lesson to the kids would be to pay it forward. We’re going to the police station where they have a tree hung with cards stating the needs of some of the people in our community. We’re going to pick some, all go shopping together for the items and then return the gifts to the station. I hope that, because the kids are participating in this process that they can learn something about what Christmas is really about. However, in the mean time, I am happy to admit that charity is not dead and that there are decent and giving people out there in the world. And I just wanted to thank that random stranger for his gift and wish him a Merry Christmas.

A Conversation at Breakfast.

2008-11-22T21:56:00.001-08:00

Alice: When I get bigger I want to have a baby in my tummy.

Me: (as I'm scurrying around trying to get kids fed and lunches made) Ok, you can do that when you get bigger.

Alice: And I want to have big bubbas too. (mama's bubbas has been our epithet for boobs...it often comes up during breastfeeding)

Dad: Like mom's.

Alice: Mom's are on the small side. I want some like Libby's mom. (In my defense, Libby's mom just had a baby)

Jane Notices Things

2008-11-18T15:28:00.000-08:00

There's ALWAYS a white butterfly in the lavender. And Jane ALWAYS finds it. I think it might live there.

Meat III: Mouth-Watering Beef from our Backyard.

2008-11-09T13:30:00.000-08:00

So, while the actual death of the cow, next door, was easily more emotional than the deaths of a dozen roosters, the meat from that cow was…beefalicious! (That’s a made up word comprising of the root words: beef and delicious) We had our first steer steak and I am delighted to report that it was heavenly. And even though I cried when I saw the steer fall onto the carpet of straw in our neighbor’s back yard, I felt good about eating it (compared to the meat I buy at COSTCO). I know that, like our chickens, these cows quality of life was so much better than the killing fields of packaged beef. Our beef for next year is going to be an even better step forward. Instead of buying 4-H beef, we are going to be farming our beef. Farming? you say…yes, farming. Our neighbors and some other families (including us) are going to buy the steer and let them free range on some property just south of here. It will be about half the price and the cows will be grass-fed. I’m a little excited at this prospect and proud to feed my family meat that I’m raising. Besides, it just about fulfils all of my “Little House” dreams…if someone will just get me a white ruffled apron and a bonnet, I’ll be in business.

A Letter to my Son's Teachers.

2008-11-03T13:50:00.000-08:00

Dear Mrs. X and Mrs. Z,

I am writing to you about my son, I want you to know him besides as the boy who “doesn’t like worksheets.” He was born thoughtful and respectful. He needs time at home and by himself to recharge each day. He has a very active imagination and, at home, when I can’t find him…he is usually outside, under the willow tree, experimenting with water and dirt. He loves to learn things about Vikings, scientists, astronauts, Antarctica, Greenland, ships, sailing, oceans, and spends many late-night hours in his room perusing the encyclopedias that his nana and papa sent him. He loves to ride his bike and he loves to have some sort of costume on (lately it’s a muscle shirt, an Indiana Jones hat, and a clear backpack—filled with rocks and ropes and useful things like that). He is astutely aware of his sisters and their activities and while he doesn’t enjoy princesses and baby dolls—he allows and encourages his sisters to imagine and create in their own worlds. He plays pirates and Jedi knights with his cousins and they are very talented with swords and ropes. He’s artistic with legos and has this amazing ability with constructing just about anything he needs.

You tell me that he spaces out during instruction and just sits there quietly while the other children studiously fill out myriads of answers to myriads of questions on myriads of worksheets. Most likely he is soaring through the stars in the Millenium Falcon or sailing east in search of Aslan’s country on the Dawn Treader. I’m not sure how to make him do worksheets and stay on task, but I do know that if he’s interested…nothing can keep him from finding the answers in the encyclopedias, the library, or through experiment. Just don’t make him hate learning…because, up until now, it has been the sole purpose of his life.

Sincerely,

a concerned mother.

P.S. I will not be taking him to the doctor to have him labeled and medicated.

They're Growing Up So Fast.

2008-10-29T17:18:00.000-07:00

Remember these? They just started laying these...look at how tiny and cute those little eggs are. What does this mean for us? Lots and lots and lots of egg salad and scrambled eggs. (The big ones are from the mama hens)

My Thoughts on California's Education System.

2008-10-16T15:26:00.000-07:00

It SUCKS! Sorry, not in the mood to be more eloquent than that.

Wuthering Heights

2008-10-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

Why do I read this book again? It is a little depressing and I don’t care how much Catherine and Heathcliff love each other, they are spoiled and annoying and so very tragic. But here I am, reading it again. I’m just about as hopeless as Catherine herself. Recommend me something that doesn’t involve soul mates, unrequited love, and death. Oh, yeah, and it can’t be about vampires.

Applesauce with the little Girls.

2008-09-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

The spoils. Don't be fooled, those strings of skin are the best part of the day.

So this is how you make applesauce with little girls.

Get all the babies, blankies, baby strollers
Get all the dress-ups
Get snacks
Take everything to the barn.
Oh, yeah, and have more adults come (thanks Trieste and Trish)
One more thing...while you're making really healthy local, organic applesauce with apples that your little ones picked themselves...feed them McDonald's for lunch...because you're busy and they LOVE it more than the applesauce.

Jane sampling the ingredients.

The finished product.

Alice picking apples.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel.

2008-09-17T09:15:00.000-07:00

Jane: the spring in my step.

I am starting to get these little bursts of unexplained excitement. And I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was driving this joy into my heart, and renewed spring in my step. I finally figured out what it was on our last quick trip to Logan to see Nana & Papa. Are you ready for it? Here’s the big unveiling: we are growing out of the baby years. Whew. It’s an amazing feeling. We could drive without stopping to nurse a baby every few hours, without having to bring all the equipment that babies inevitably bring. We were all able to face forward in the van, we were all able to sleep in the same room, we were all able to eat the same food, and we only had to bring one size of diaper for a baby who can tell us when she went poo. Those of you who are entrapped in the baby years…must certainly understand my elation. I only hope the best for those of you who are immersed in it…but am happy to never look back. I will happily hold your newborns, cuddle them, feed them, put them down for naps, and then…I will hand them back over to you when it’s time for bed, or when they won’t stop crying. Please rejoice with me! (And, cross your fingers because that last 99.9% birth control method didn’t work.)

Beside this point…we had a wonderful time in Logan. The kids’ favorite part was climbing up and down papa’s mountain into the “hundred acre woods.” Alice loved some one-on-two date time with mom and dad at the Aggie/Utah game (Lily and Canyon wisely opted out). We loved playing with cousins, babies, aunts, uncles, seeing the pond at the Zollinger farm, eating tons (literally) of AMAZING nana food, going to the farmer’s market to see all the democrats assemble, and visit and laugh and talk with the Joneses. We can’t wait to come again, and should come when the hundred acre wood is covered in that white stuff (snow? is it called?).

Dustin and Alice on the "mountain"

Lily

Dr. Indie Canyon Prusso (Dr. of Archeology, of course)

Meat II: Eating My Words

2008-09-10T12:48:00.000-07:00

Our first backyard 'rooster' dinner.

So, in a previous post I exposed my sentiments of, what Dustin and I like to call, skeptical environmentalism. In other words we are environmental because it’s practical. It makes sense that you should eat meat that comes from one animal and is raised in your backyard. Just as it makes sense to use “real” plates, instead of paper, because you have a dishwasher and paper plates cost money. So, to eat my words we bought half of the neighbor’s steer and to further make my point (and to get rid of half of the enormous monthly chicken feed bill) we slaughtered a dozen of our chickens (all roosters) on Saturday. It was, to say the least, an amazing experience. Katrina, the famous localvore blogger of Kale for Sale, came to join in the fun. I was grateful for her presence because she did bring a sense of order to the whole operation that Jeremy and I would have probably botched. Dustin suddenly had to “work” and so I was left to oversee operations on my own. The little kids were always near and interested, but not totally aware of what we were doing exactly, except that it must be fun because we were adults and seemed to be ‘playing.’

We started off with a prayer. It somehow seemed appropriate as we were about to extinguish living beings. I prayed that we were grateful for this experience, for the chickens who would provide sustenance, and very grateful that we didn’t necessarily have to rely on this as our only options for meat (read: COSTCO). I truly felt like Ma, only lacking an apron and a bonnet. Jeremy was the non-contested self-appointed chicken killer and did a great job. This time he held onto the chickens until they stopped moving…this was much less dramatic than watching them flip around without a head. We then blanched them in some almost boiling soapy water and Katrina and I began plucking. Whew, what a job. Nobody was kidding when they said that it’s time consuming to pluck a chicken. I was REALLY glad that Katrina was there then. She was great and even had a system to the plucking madness. The plucking was done in the heat of midday with our backs scrunched, most uncomfortably, over a plywood table. We had a great time visiting as we worked and Jane was good to help out. She really wanted to pluck her own chicken.

Here are the chickens--plucked but not yet gutted.

After all twelve of the chickens were plucked we began the cleaning and gutting process. I was a little nervous about this part, I haven’t opened up any kind of animal since the crayfish in seventh grade. Jeremy began with a tutorial and showed us how to cut the chicken open to pull out poop (by far the worst part), intestines, stomach, liver, heart, esophagus, to finish by scraping and cleaning any other residue that was left. At the end, they were looking like true “freezer” chickens. Katrina delved right in and was marvelous…I followed and soon began to like this process. It was kind of fun to be able to recognize the organs by touch as you’re pulling them out. Katrina and I had an easier time because our hands were smaller to get into the chicken. We then bagged and froze them. It was an exhausting, yet rewarding day.

So, I decided that we should eat a few of them for Sunday dinner. I made a brine of salt and water and let two chickens soak in it overnight. The next day Lily and I went out to the barn with some red potatoes, carrots, and red onions drizzled in olive oil and ranch seasoning. We stuffed the chickens with onions, rubbed butter all over them and sprinkled with salt and pepper. We placed the chickens on top of the potatoes and roasted them for almost two hours, rotating positions every 30 minutes. The barn smelled delicious and…the chicken was the BEST I’ve ever tasted. It just fell off the bones, was so tender and flavorful. I was so glad that, after all that work, the chicken wasn’t disgusting. We are definitely going to have roast chicken for Thanksgiving and you’re all invited. So far my experiment with eating meat out of my backyard has been successful. I’ll let you know how our first steer steak turns out.

Dustin got home just in time to see the chicken neatly lined up in the freezer, the kitchen scrubbed and disinfected, and all bloody remains carefully buried in the back. He only participated in the eating…I feel a bit like the “little red hen.”

The vegetables were delicious cooked under the chicken. The chicken drippings added so much taste.

The chickens prepped and ready.

Lily, rolling up her sleeves. She was a great helper. This is her stuffing the chickens with onions.

On Exercise: Yoga

2008-09-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

That, over there, is Mollie...my yoga instructor. Don't be fooled by that pose...it's a lot easier than it looks.

Let me preface my first “real” yoga experience with a little background info. I am a little bit addicted to exercise. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some crazy hard-bodied, lean, and otherwise intimidating model of perfection who lives at the gym and places exercise second to none. I, on the other hand, am a soft-bodied mom who realized shortly after my first child was born that exercise was the only way for me to have a few minutes to meditate (read: check in with my brain to make sure it was still there). Since that time I have religiously exercised and have LOVED this small time away from my daily slavery as a mom. I’m a total cardio girl and my first love, of course, is swimming. I swim three days a week with a Masters’ (read: old people) swim team. I love how it pushes me, I love that I can socialize with people who don’t know me as Lily/Canyon/Alice/Jane’s mom, and I also love the quiet that being submerged under water forces (it’s very unlike the rest of my day in that regard). On the other days I run. While running is not as therapeutic as swimming (for me), I enjoy how it makes me hurt and the bonus is that I can do it at home if I have to. Anyway…that’s my exercise routine.

Recently (in the last three years) one of my best friends, Lisa, has really gotten into yoga. She has, in fact, loved it so much that she opened her own yoga studio: Cosmic Dog, just so she could do some “GOOD” yoga. She has been trying to sway me over to the dark side for some time. I tried the intro class that was delightful and fulfilling on a purely meditative level. She has since been attempting me to try something a little more advanced. Well, today was the day and being how I know and love the instructor, Mollie, a fellow mom from the charter school, and got full assurance from her that I could handle it and that she would “go easy on me,” I finally decided to take the plunge.

And “plunge” it literally was. I couldn’t of left there more wet if I had just done a masters’ workout in my clothes. Lisa assured me that Mollie always starts out easy and then moves into more difficult. I have to say, I was a bit worried…because there was nothing easy about it. It was fun to push myself in new ways and watch my body shake through these poses that I couldn’t get quite right. Yoga is definitely a strength, stretch, power type of exercise. I was happy, about half-way through the class, to hear some heavy breathing from the other students and to see Lisa and her husband, Tom, as soaking wet as I was. All in all I was satisfied, but aware that I still love my cardio. I think that it’ll be a good complement to my other routines, plus *bonus* they have a daycare for kids. Also, I have to add that I was glad I was there with some serious people because if one unruly person besides myself (…mom, you know who I’m talking about) was there…I would’ve giggled my way through it. My favorite pose/position was the one at the end where you lay on your mat, toes out, arms extended and deep breathe yourself into a nice little nap.

Anyway, I know what Lisa’s doing here, she’s going to get me hooked just when my “best friend” discount runs out. Don’t ever underestimate the power of a good business woman.

Thanks Lisa for a good sweaty day. (I hope I can lift my arms tomorrow)

Summer Projects: Revealed at Last!

2008-08-28T10:12:00.000-07:00

So I wasn’t a total slug this summer. I actually accomplished a few things that have been on the table for a LONG time. I finished my quilt. People seem so amazed when they come to my house and I show them progress on my quilt. They seem flabbergasted that a person with four small children could have time to make a new quilt for my bed. I just humbly nod and shrug my shoulders as if I must be the most AMAZING housewife in the world. What I don’t tell them, and would appreciate if you don’t let on, is that I have been working on said quilt for darn near a year. So don’t get all down on yourself because you aren’t making these charming heirlooms…just do it like I do—take a really, really, really long time. And then the key is to act as if you just started it last week and *sigh* the binding, that I did by hand, was painstaking work…I was able to finish it in a few hours—but no pressure. Don’t tell them that you stretched the “handwork” out into days because it gave you an excuse to sit and watch “Stargate” and “Northern Exposure.” I mean watching TV is totally justified if you’re also handcrafting a masterpiece. If anyone needs binding work done…let me know, but make sure to drop off a few DVDs with the quilt.

I also made, as Alice calls them, “Muppets” of each of the kids to play with (of themselves). They’re darn cute, but not as big as a hit with the kids as I would have hoped.

And then the pillows. I made some pillows to go with this great bench that one of Dustin’s clients gave us. I LOVE the effect. The fabric was great…I love expensive fabric…you can’t really go wrong.

As for now, I have two projects that I’m now working on. Isaac and Elise have requested a quilt for Christmas and I’ve happily aquired fabric for it and a GREAT idea. Let’s see if I can pull it off. Also I am happy to quilt and bind (again, the binding) a quilt that Marty’s wife, Bonnie, pieced. She did an amazing job…I hope that I can quilt it to her expectations. Also, I hope that she wasn’t expecting it any time soon. So, now that school’s in…maybe I’ll have time to finish these other projects.

Tell me honestly though, don’t you just LOVE the binding on my quilt?

Aaaaaah, School.

2008-08-27T10:16:00.001-07:00

It happens every year. One minute I’m smiling, all misty-eyed, as I watch my kids laughing and running through the sprinklers at sunset. A perfect ending to a perfect summer day. And I think, “I just want it to be like this forever and never want to send them to school.” And then, a few days before school starts, when I’m wrenching my heart out on a daily basis because I’m going to miss them so much… there’s a sudden shift in the universe, or something like that, and I’m screaming at them that I’m so glad that school is starting because I can’t stand another second of the infernal and constant noise level. Then, WHAM, perfect timing…school does start and everyone’s happy, especially me.

Christmas in August, I guess.

2008-08-13T20:43:00.001-07:00

I got one of these.

Meat

2008-08-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

While there are a lot of things that I’ve needed to address: namely stitches, homemade puppets; circa “What About Bob,” and an ‘almost’ completion of my new king-size quilt—I have neglected to write about them because, well, I’ve been feeling EXTREMELY lazy. But one thing that I’ve been thinking about has pushed me out of this malaise and this is the topic of meat. Yes, meat. Ever since my anemic pregnant days with Lily (8 years ago) I have been a veritable meat eater. I have recently decided that I would like to be a more conscious meat eater, and by that, I mean possible raising and eating my own meat. We have the space to do this…I just have to get the guts. We don’t think twice about buying as much meat as we can from Costco, and yet, at the same time spend more time and effort on animal rights than human rights. And by ‘we’ I mean the collective conscious of the American media. We will be killing some of the chickens in the next couple of weeks, and while I think that this task would be a lot easier if I was STARVING, I’m still willing to give it a try. People are shocked when I tell them this, yet they have no problem going to the grocery store and buying any type of meat. I think that by actually raising and killing your own meat…you tend to respect the process and it’s part of our nature, no matter what some psycho environmental vegan wants to tell you: we are meat eaters…it’s how we’ve survived.

Now it’s one thing to kill an ornery old rooster, yet another to kill an almost sentient cow: a mammal. This morning I was lying in bed and I heard a bang. It sounded like a gun-shot. Most people would be a little freaked out to hear a gun-shot in their backyard, but this time of year, the vineyards are CONSTANTLY shooting off cannons to scare the birds, so I didn’t think too much of it. And then, I heard it again…and it was definitely different than the cannon shots. Dustin came and I said, “Did you hear that shot?” He looked out the window and then remembered, “Oh yeah, Dan (our neighbor) said that he was killing his steers today.” Dan and his kids raise several steers every year and then sell them at the county fair. They had a few left over that they were going to send to the butcher and then sell them as meat. I looked out the window and saw the two huge animals lying on the dirt in their backyard. One of them was still twitching and I stood there and cried. I cried, but at the same time I was conscious of the fact that this is how we eat our meat. And I respected these animals and the men who were deftly skinning and sectioning them. These men worked fast and quietly and, it seemed, from my vantage point with respect. I doubt that the cattle killed in the feed lots get any kind of deferential treatment.

So what am I saying. I don’t know, except that I got real riled up after listening to a ‘perspective’ on NPR talking about how we shouldn’t eat animals at all because we shouldn’t kill animals. I’m sorry, but GET A LIFE. If you want to be a vegetarian, fine, just leave the rest of us out of it and get behind a real cause, like human rights. So, when we finally get our first meat steer, get a big freezer and then get in line for some free range, grass fed, organic beef all from ONE cow.

Little Jane

2008-07-18T16:47:00.000-07:00

It’s always a sad day when your kids favorite aunt or uncle starts a family of their own, because, suddenly your kids take second place to their own. So unfair. However, we have a bit of an anomaly in the Prusso family. Uncle Jeremy has always been a great uncle to my kids…as well as a great dad to his own. I guess he can split it both ways. He has a special bond with Jane, though—he can get her to sleep during Sunday School in about three minutes flat and she always has a particularly special, slobbery, wet kiss reserved for him.

He called me the other night and told me he’d written a song for her. He sang it to me over the phone…and I cried like a baby. He sang it for her the next day and she danced. I want him to sing it at her wedding. What do you think? You can find it here and it’s called “Little Jane.”

Whirlwind

2008-07-16T13:35:00.000-07:00

Since my last post, we have been in a literal hurricane of events and people. Here are the highlights:

• Bringing Grandad and his chihuahua, “Precious” home with us from our Anniversary trip. He was in Tahoe at a elementary school reunion (there were only a handful of students still living).
My friend Krisanne and her three kids spending a week with us to avoid apartment living.
• Picking up my nieces Parly and Clayre at the airport to spend a WEEK! with us.
• Picking up Aunt Sadie and baby CJ at the airport.
• Nana and Papa driving up through Tahoe to spend a few days.
• Daisy & Shayne bringing my other two nieces.
• A trip to the farmers’ market with a bizillion kids.
• CJ’s dad finally showing up…can’t remember his name.
• Fireworks and a fourth of July extravaganza with volleyball, tri-tip, rootbeer floats, and freezing fog.
• Lots of open water swimming at del valle.
• Lily getting baptized by her dad with all of her favorite p people to share that with her.
• Finally getting rid of everyone, only to begin the process of packing for a week of camping at Tahoe.
• Camping at Livermore’s “Camp Shelly” in Tahoe.
• Swim, swim, swim, canoe, and play in the sand at Tahoe.
• Revel in the fact that there were NO bears this year.
• Eat some amazing food.
• Survive a hailstorm.
• Survive camping with an eighteen-month old, a three-year old, a six-year old, and an eight-year old.
• Come home to mountains of laundry, 43 thirsty chickens, and a ripe crop of tomatoes.
• Pull off an impromptu tea-party for my three-year old Princess Alice.
• Our first week of summer that’s q u i e t. Reveling in quiet time, bed time and…no that’s all.

Pictures: Alice with her birthday cake
Sadie and I with CJ
Grandad, Precious, and Jane
Jane at Tahoe
Canyon, Alice, Jane & Derek

Holiday

2008-06-17T16:36:00.000-07:00

Our Cabin "Pinon"

Dustin and I finally took a weekend away. It was our anniversary and we haven’t been a night away from the kids for several years. I was nervous at first, but by the end of the trip I was ready and willing and wishing that we could stay away at least a year or so longer. It was so GREAT! (no offense to the kids). We went and stayed at this little resort in the Sierras, just off of highway 88. We’ve often driven that way from Tahoe and have always wanted to spend more time there. The place that we stayed, Sorensen's, was amazing. We had our own little two-person cabin, set in the most beautiful place imaginable. We ate all of our meals out on their little deck, amidst mountain flowers and lots of butterflies, and went hiking and to some hot springs, just laid in a hammock, read, slept in, ate and ate, and even had time to fit in a movie at the nearest little town. I’m not quite ready to come back to reality, but to reality we are and we hit it HARD.

Thanks to Grandma Laurie who exhausted herself with our four angelic children…probably she didn’t even have to lift a finger, they’re so perfect. She should really be thanking us.

Where we ate our meals.

On Farming: Of Life and Death

2008-06-03T10:17:00.000-07:00

I am officially a very successful mother hen. Apparently it’s not easy to hatch chicken eggs, so in anticipation of being very bad incubators…we decided to start with 48 eggs. The idea being that several wouldn’t be fertilized, several wouldn’t develop right, and several would be instantly killed by curious little hands. We were thinking that we’d get, maybe, 20. So after three weeks (21 days exactly) of monitoring temperature, turning the eggs three times a day, and sleepless nights of worry because I believed that I “cooked” them—by the way, pregnancy’s a breeze—the eggs began hatching.

It began on the 20th day when I was turning the eggs and heard some distinct chirping. In surprise, I stopped turning the eggs and the sound stopped. I thought maybe there was a bird hiding out in the basement or something…but I couldn’t find one. I continued to turn and, there it was again. I thought I was a little crazy, so I called Jeremy and he said: “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, you can hear the birds chirping through the eggs. It means that they’re getting close.” Minor detail.

That night, while we slept, three chickens hatched. By the time I got home from swimming there were six. After breakfast, there were eight. By that night there were fourteen. By the next morning, twenty. And throughout the day, the counting finally stopped at forty-two. So, as a mother hen, I’m 95%. The rooster, apparently, was a great fertilizer (as any who are willing to observe the chickens for more than five minutes can tell you), most developed well (we got a couple who couldn’t walk), and they weren’t killed by curious hands…oh wait, yes, they were. We lost seven after the mob of “gentle” children-handling. So. Thirty-five chicks. Anyone interested in adopting a few?

On a different note. The rooster had now fulfilled his usefulness, and seeing how he was starting to attack the children, we decided to KILL it. Jeremy came over with a hatchet and did the job. I will spare you the details, but for anyone who’s interested, I filmed it and you are welcome to view it at your next visit (no, I’m not going to put it up on youtube). Suffice it to say, chickens do really run around for several minutes after their head is severed from their body. We are expecting at least one of the thirty-five new chickens to replace him. The rest we’ll eat.

All in a days work on the farm.

Confessions of a Chart-Challenged Mother and the Permanent Repercussions to her Oldest Daughter.

2008-05-22T09:36:00.000-07:00

Ok. So Lily’s always coming to me with these “theoretically” great ideas about how to organize things. Anything. It could be about cleaning, or cooking, or discipline, or practicing the piano, or anything, really. I usually give her a smile, a enthusiastic “Good idea” and then drop it, because, I guess I’m not much of a chart mom. Lily should’ve been born in my sister Daisy’s family…because she’s great with charts. Here’s an example of one of Lily’s charts…no kidding, she comes up with this stuff on her own. It’s pretty good. (Disregard the handwritten rules, these were written in by some unruly uncle)

So I was lamenting about this one day to my sister-in-law, Trieste, about how I was not a good mom because I couldn’t be the organized chart lady that Lily obviously thinks I should be. So Trieste decided that for Lily’s birthday she was going to make her a planner. Just something that an organized 2nd grader needs. So we had a wonderful birthday for Lily and she got, among other things, Trieste’s planner. She was polite about all her presents and thanked everyone…but I was unsure of how the planner was going to go over until the next morning. Lily was already ready for school and was waiting on Canyon to get ready and I saw her in the living room, without her knowing that I was watching, hugging her planner. I guess it’s official. Lily did inherit something, besides her freckles and red hair, from her dad.

Princess Alice

2008-05-05T21:05:00.001-07:00

I know that Alice is much a topic of interest on this blog—but she’s at an extremely interesting age and she’s funny and difficult and she makes you want to cry with laughter or with pure frustration. This is, once again, another Alice story…so take it for what it is. We were having a particularly lovely morning which included the mandatory fits of uncharacteristic rage for dressing and combing hair and general getting readiness. However, after we were finally dressed in a pink dress and, what Alice likes to call, her glass slippers (they are really some pink ballet flats that Hannah got her for Christmas), we were ready to go to COSTCO. As we were walking in the door the lady that checks the validity of the Costco card, said: “Well, aren’t you the prettiest princess I ever saw.” Alice gasped. How could this random lady know that she’s a princess? Was this one of her secret, but loyal, subjects? Perhaps she was a lady-in-waiting who had been banished to Costco by a previous princess.

At any rate, the question begged to be asked, and so I asked it: “How did you know?”

Costco lady: “Oh, I know, I have a princess of my own. She’s thirty-nine years old.”

I got a little emotional at this admission. I’m not sure if I was nostalgic for this woman and her now grown little princess, or if I was in utter despair at the thought of waiting on Princess Alice, hand and foot, for at least thirty-seven more years.

Alice: “Look at my glass slippers.”

Costco lady, with much attention and with very accurate and majestic intonations, fit for a princess: “Those are the most beautiful glass slippers I have ever seen.”

Alice graciously beamed as we pushed into the store, talking merrily of her glass slippers and the “sprinkles” in her hair (leftover glitter from her haircut). She really is a princess. Now when do I become the queen?

World's Greatest Mom: Me

2008-04-29T13:44:00.000-07:00

The Boys in their Sword Shirts.

On the Boat, ready to sail.

Demolishing the cake with any implements of destruction we can find.

So, I know you’re wondering how I managed to gain this most coveted title. Well, all it takes is to take your now six-year-old son and his boy cousins (except the Ceej and Arthur) sailing on a really, really windy day. Let’s be honest, though, they would’ve been happy to play on the boat in the marina, maybe even motor out of the marina for a bit, let alone sail with gale force winds. Wait, strike that, they were TERRIFIED of the gale force winds…they calmed down as soon as we took the sail down and started back for the safety of the docks. Besides terrifying and delighting them in one fail swoop…I managed to get even more points by making them all matching sword t-shirts, eat a pirate ship cake practically with our bare hands, and even find time to find a jelly-fish with papa Scott. A BIG thanks to papa Scott who took us out on the boat and who wins the honor of World’s most courageous grandpa…not afraid of little boys on an expensive sailboat, and a lot of white flour and sugar…along with lots of rum (root beer). That’s sort of a long title, but he deserves it. Anyway, we had a great birthday out on the bay and it was beautiful and there was, suddenly, a LOT of wind.

On a different note, Lily and Kaia spent the weekend with papa Scott and Katrina and had a wonderful time at a production of “High School Musical” in the city and learning about organic food, zero waste, composting, farmer’s marketing, eating locally, and honing their marketing ideas for their restaurant: “Cousins in the Kitchen.” Thanks to Katrina for loving those girls as much as they love her.

We’re halfway through the birthday season…sigh…just a few more to go.

Nervous Breakdown?

2008-04-23T08:50:00.000-07:00

Why I am having a nervous breakdown now, 14 months after the second great breakdown should've occurred (9 months after the first one did occur), I don't really know. I think it has to do with this list:

Panini sandwiches and roasted red pepper and tomato soup.

Tortellini with prosciutto and a creamy pesto sauce, homemade bread, chocolate and peanut butter brownies.

Homemade chicken pot pie.

From scratch chicken tortilla soup and honey cornbread muffins.

Bacon, egg & cheese biscuits--with homemade biscuits and eggs freshly gathered from the mean chickens, just short of butchering the four-H pig down the street for bacon.

Why does this send me into a nervous breakdown? Because I spent a lot of time and effort on these meals, only to have my children inform me that they "aren't hungry."

I would like to move in with some people who REALLY appreciate my efforts.

Last night we had KRAFT macaroni and cheese. Everyone ate it.

A Conversation in the car

2008-04-18T12:55:00.000-07:00

On the way home from school today while listening to NPR's "Science Friday:"

Me: Canyon, did you know that they're talking about science.

Canyon: (who currently wants to be a scientist who studies Antarctica) What's science?

Me: It's what scientists study.

Alice: Mommy, that's potty talk.

Me: (as if I, myself, am 2 1/2) No it's not.

Canyon: Oh.

State of Mind

2008-04-03T19:25:00.000-07:00

Things are looking good. Homework is done, baths are had and....drumroll please....Alice POOPED IN THE POTTY!!!
Better yet, she did it without my knowledge, completely on her own, and then promptly asked if we could call Aunt Sadie/Cinderella. So--there you go.

Conspiracy

2008-04-01T15:13:00.000-07:00

So this hasn’t been the first time, and I’m pretty sure that it won’t be the last…but I think the little girls have developed a pact. Jane is at the age where if she isn’t endangering her life in some way, she’s just a whiney little stinker pants (case in point: this morning I caught her in the shower just as she was taking the plastic guard off my razor and putting it in her mouth—you know, those kinds of things). Another BIG problem is that she runs for the toilet any chance she gets. Therefore, we have a rule in our house that you have to flush (I know, we're callous and unfeeling), close the lid, and—for extra measure—close the bathroom door. However, Alice and Canyon aren’t always the best with this…so I spend every waking moment checking on the status of the toilet.

I think the girls got together and worked a deal around these insipid “rules.” Now, I must, for all your sakes insert a bodily-function-revolting-warning for those with the faint of heart (yes, Dad, this means you). Alice decided to poo on the carpet…just skip the middle man altogether (the middle man being the toilet). Don’t worry, I didn’t let Jane near it. You see where this is going though…we’re going to have to have 24 hour surveillance. However, I think that if Jane actually got a hold of it…she’d probably think twice about putting it in her mouth…at least, I hope so. I don’t know, I think these girls are doing me in.

p.s. THIS IS NOT AN APRIL FOOLS JOKE, so advice would be helpful.

Spring Break?

2008-03-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

I know, I know…you’ve all been waiting. Needless to say, Disneyland was great. Alice enjoyed the princesses, Canyon spent a total of four hours on “what was formerly known as Tom Sawyer Island and is now called Pirate’s lair,” Lily went on every ride a dozen times, except ‘Screamin’—despite multiple harassing comments from her dad and uncles, Jane really just liked being outside and taking naps in the stroller and people watching in the lines, I liked the dinner we had at “Club 33”—the secret, exclusive restaurant in Disneyland (mainly because we went sans kids), and Dustin liked getting wet on Splash Mountain and Grizzly run rapids. I’d love to post some of the pictures that we took—but my iphoto needs some housecleaning and I just haven’t done it yet. Just know that we have hundreds of darling pictures of children with characters, on rides, and screaming to go back to the hotel.

We are settling into spring break fairly well, we went to Santa Cruz for a little beach time and froze…Jane and Alice didn’t seem to mind, though, they wouldn’t stay out of the waves for anything. We’re sort of bummed that it’s been so cold here this week, because we’re ready to be out in the SUN. We’re out anyway, it’s just cold, windy, and foggy.

Oh, by the way, Dustin got a jeep. It seats four people and is EXTREMELY practical for our family, you never know when we’ll need to drive off-road with only half of our family.

Disneyland Anticipation

2008-03-06T13:45:00.000-08:00

Alice's "Disneyland" The Livermore Public Library

I know, it’s been awhile since I’ve posted and I have lots of excuses…but I don’t want to bore you because I have something much more exciting to talk about: Disneyland. We go to Disneyland once a year and, of course—as with Christmas, the anticipation of the trip is almost as good as the trip itself. I am particularly excited this year because we have one child who will CRAP her pants. And, as many of you who read my blog know, this is no joke. She really will crap her pants at some point (we’re still working on that aspect of potty training). All literal allegations of that sentence aside, and she really is going to FREAK out. Alice or “Alice in Whineyland,” as we lovingly refer to her is at that stage where she believes everything she sees and will absolutely believe that the princesses stationed at Disneyland are the ACTUAL princesses. This will be awesome to watch…so if you’re coming with us, hitch yourself to the Alice wagon.

This trip will also be funny because, up till now, Alice (not remembering the trip last year) actually believes that the Library is Disneyland. No kidding. Every time we drive by or go to the library, she’s like: “There’s Disneyland.” Wow. She’ll be in for a real treat when she sees that the Disneyland is not the Livermore Library (which, in and of itself is a wonderful place) but an actual theme park with castles and rides.

So, even though I just took an enormous blog vacation…I’m taking another. It will be worth it this time, though, because I’ll have this amazingly long and boring travel narrative to get through…and, of course, delightful photos of my darling, intelligent, and extremely well-behaved children. And gosh darn it, I’m going to say to my whiney tired brood, screaming in complete exasperation, as I’ve heard so many parents at Disneyland repeat: “You’re going to have fun, whether you like it or not.”

I'm Stickin' with You.

2008-02-14T13:15:00.000-08:00

As a rule, Dustin & I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. I think we decided this after we realized that the thoughtfulness of the holiday was really going downhill the more time we were together. On the Valentine’s Day, when we were first dating, Dustin got me flowers. Now, he didn’t just go to the grocery store and get flowers, no he went to a florist…and even then stepped behind the counter to hand pick and practically arrange the bouquet himself. We knew that this phase in our life was over when Lily was about 2 1/2, and he got me some flowers, of which, Lily proudly announced: “We got those from a lady on the side of the road.” So, I guess that I thought Valentine’s Day was over for us…until last year when he got me a road bike. Yep, a road bike. So I decided this year I’d better do something…so here it is:

The Top Ten reasons I’m Stickin’ with Dustin:

Ten: He has an uncharacteristically really funny laugh.
Nine: Even though he’s dyslexic, he’s great at reading to the kids (unless it’s The Secret Garden, apparently it’s not easy to read a cockney accent).
Eight: He makes the best hot chocolate and Swedish pancakes. (For those of you who don’t know, Swedish pancakes are crepes…Dustin insists on calling them Swedish pancakes.)
Seven: He’s exceptionally good at designing and building homes.
Six: He brushes his teeth for, not an exaggeration, at least five minutes every night.
Five: He loves babies and is pretty good at making them.
Four: The only sport that he watches on TV is the tour de France…which, thank goodness, is seasonal—so I pretty much have his undivided attention for at least 11 months out of the year.
Three: He will only take me to movies that will make me physically ill during the inevitable “artistically shot” action sequence--a.k.a. “some guy with a camera running around following the actors, jumping off of buildings, and—for extra measure—shaking the camera ferociously.” Case in point: Bourne Identity, Bourne Supremacy, and Bourne Ultimatum (no kidding, in one of them…I had to leave the theater during some really long car chase scene…in my defense, I was pregnant and we were sitting on the FRONT row).
Two: He makes sure that he turns his shirts right-side-out before he puts them in the laundry—so that I don’t have to as I’m folding.
One: He takes care of us with all of his heart and all of his soul…and we LOVE him for that.

So, for what it’s worth, Happy Valentine’s Day.

I know, it’s not a road bike.

Nice Enough

2008-02-06T08:57:00.000-08:00

Lily on incriminating bed.

I am a terrible mother. I did something, in my absolute darkest hour, housecleaning day, in complete desperation and pity (for myself). On Saturdays we clean the house. The idea is that EVERYONE participates--which they do, however…let’s be honest…I’m doing a HUGE BULK of the work, and sometimes, feeling very sorry for myself. So this Saturday I gave the kids their choirs, which involved vacuuming the downstairs and clean-up of their rooms. They insisted they were done and happily crossed the street to play tennis (our neighbors have a tennis court that we have readily adopted as our own). I checked downstairs and, horror of horrors, everything was pushed underneath their beds. When they came home I told them, not politely, that THIS WAS UNACCEPTABLE! Again, feeling sorry for myself and the cleaning that I was STILL doing.

I thought about this later and thought about how mean this actually was. I mean, they’re kids and they helped as well as they could. It reminded me of when we were kids…when we did our chores we earned “nice enoughs.” Which was our family monetary exchange that we could then turn around to buy things from our family store. But, it’s not the store that was so great it was the name of the money, “nice enough.” It was like mom saying, “Well, I probably could have done it better, but it’s done, and you’re learning about responsibility, and—quite frankly—it’s nice enough.” So, even though I may not have little monies printed out, next time we do chores, I’m going to politely excuse them to play as I tell them that it’s “nice enough.” Thanks Nana Dona for being a PERFECT mom.

Snow 101: Introduction to Snow

2008-01-28T10:19:00.000-08:00

Things that we will learn in this class:
1. Always go to the snow after a week of rain. It will be really deep and really soft.
2. Always borrow a friend’s 4WD Suburban with DVD player for the drive up in the really deep and really soft snow.
3. Buy snow boots for the kids because if you think that wearing their tennis shoes from the car to the ski rental place is the only time that you have to keep them out of the deep, soft, wet snow…then you obviously aren’t aware of the kid/snow magnetism. (Is that a run-on sentence?)
4. Always, and I’m going to repeat this, always put your kids in ALL DAY ski lessons.
5. Always bring goggles for your kids so that you don’t have to give yours up and wear your sunglasses all day and complain about it because your face is cold, it’s too dark for sunglasses, and they keep fogging up. Be an adult.
6. Spend at least 30 minutes on the first run of the day, nay, first run in six years, helping an abandoned eight-year-old snowboarder get unstuck out of the really deep really soft snow, all the while listening to him say, between sobs: “Thank you lady, thank you.”
7. Ski on your telemark skis without actually ever doing a telemark turn because you suck at it and you haven’t been skiing in six years and you just want to have FUN!
8. Watch the kids ski down the bunny hill. Realize that your five-year-old son’s name, Canyon, does not certify him as a snow-plow expert…realize that it’s ok as long has he has fun in the really deep really soft snow.
9. Have lunch in the lodge, smile apologetically at the friend who brought her baby and is hinting that she wants to ski just one run and rush out the door.
10. Oh yeah, an integral part, leave the babies at home. (thanks Big Canyon & Hannah)
11. Ski hard all afternoon with a great ski partner, Trieste, and an occasional run with husband: thanks Dustin.
12. Don’t drink two diet cokes at lunch and expect that there might be a bathroom on the backside.
13. At the end of the day, go and ski on the bunny hill with seven-year-old daughter. Remember, DON’T TRY AND OFFER HER ANY TIPS ON SKIING. JUST LET HER GO!
14. If you are a seven-year-old girl and your name is Lily, if you accidentally “forget” to get off the lift, go ahead and jump off on the roof of the lift operator’s hut, because he will be happy to climb up there and get you and “it was just a little jump from the chair to the roof, mom, he probably wanted me to do that.”
15. If you are a five-year-old boy who is tired of skis and has just finished a hot chocolate, take your tennis shoes and your mom and find some great snow drifts and trees by the lodge and play, play, play in the snow, snow, snow for an hour without ever getting cold as your chattering mother watches and annoyingly keeps asking you if you want to go in the lodge. Duh.
16. Get in dry clothes and dry suburban and watch episodes of “Little House on the Prairie” all the way home.
17. Oh, and it’s nice to have your babies already in bed when you get there.
18. Take a shower in your million dollar shower and fall asleep to dream of snow.

If you can complete at least a third of these requirements, you will pass this class. Good luck. See you on the slopes.

The Potty Training Monologues

2008-01-23T09:51:00.001-08:00

Alice is still struggling with, and I’m going to have to get graphic here, poop. Yesterday, she managed to poo in her panties at IKEA. This is not the first time she’s done this…pooing in public thing. Apparently pooing in your pants in front of many strangers is a heck of a lot easier than pooing in the privacy of your own bathroom stall. I, myself, deserve a gold medal for being patient and, under the circumstances, somewhat kind. We cleaned it up and then went on with our shopping.
However, upon returning home I decided we needed a little motivation so we called Cinderella (a.k.a. Aunt Sadie).

Alice: (with some prompting) Do princesses poo in their panties?
Cinderella: Why no, I go poo in the potty.
Me: Don’t you want to be a princess and poo in the potty like Cinderella?
Alice: Hmm, maybe I’ll be Snow White.
Cinderella: (suppressing a giggle) Oh, Alice, I’m friends with Snow White and I happen to know that she poos in the potty, too.
Alice: Oh.

So. Not sure if that worked. Anyone have some ideas? Cuz I’m getting tired of cleaning up poo.