Our Own Mythology

sit down... this one's a long one

2011-09-21T10:05:00.000-07:00

School has started. The pools have closed. The temperatures have dropped. The kids are looking at Halloween costumes. And yet my swimsuit still hangs hopefully in the shower stall, in denial, I guess that another season has passed it by. Here are the major highlights I've missed:

1) I flew to Boise for a weekend to surprise my mom. My other sisters were already there for vacation, so we made it a girls weekend and got our nails done, had a nice lunch, and celebrated Mom and Angie's birthday. It was a quick trip for me, but always fun to see family.

2) Tritan's 14th birthday. His voice is so low now, and he's covered in fuzzy, dark man hair. I wouldn't be surprised if he's shaving by 16. He eats more than some small nations, and has dilligently mowed the lawn every week this summer. He had a camping trip on his actual birthday, so we waited a week to celebrate as a family. We went to Dave and Busters, an arcade and restaurant, so that was perfect for Tritan--gaming and eating. It was inside a mall, where Tritan also found a kiosk that will print out designs and put them on t-shirts, so he used one of his original designs to create a birthday shirt. We went to the Lego store--apparently you are never too old for Legos (and I speak for myself). And we went to an outdoor shop that had a climbing wall inside--Tritan discovered that he was naturally good at rock climbing on his camp out. He joined a climbing gym and climbs with a teen group on Friday nights now.

3) School started. Paris moved up to middle school, so now I have an 8th, 7th, and 6th grader--we've taken over the middle school! So far, everyone is doing well...Tritan had some trouble with some kids making fun of him, but he's been sticking up for himself and getting help. Paris went from being the class clown/little bit of a troublemaker in the 5th grade to trying hard to be a good leader. He was voted homeroom rep for student council and has been taking his responsibility very seriously. I have to say that despite the horror stories, middle school has mostly been a positive change for my kids. Hopefully, high school will only get better.

Have you seen the new Harry Potter movie? Yeah, old news I know. But there is a scene that I love that epitomizes what it feels like to be a parent. Professor McGonagall (Maggie Smith) and Mrs. Weasley (Julie Walters) are outside Hogwarts. They know Voldemort and the Death Eaters are on their way. Professor McGonagall animates the stone soldiers around Hogwarts--she titters a little and says, "I've always wanted to do that". She glances at Mrs. Weasley, to share a little in the humor to ease the tension, but Mrs. Weasley just looks back all serious, all business--not even a sympathtic nod. There is no joy for her in the upcoming battle, even if she would like to kill a few death eaters--she knows her children are at Hogwarts, she knows that they will have to fight tonight, that they will get bruised and broken, that they will have to endure pain and inflict pain, and she knows that they could very well die that night. She raises her hand and sets a spell that will shield the castle. She does it slowly, mournfully--she knows that this is all she can do, and that it probably won't last long. The other professors raise their wands with the same solemn determination to complete the shield.

Sure enough, the dark magic bounces off the shield for awhile. Hermonie looks in awe at the firecracker sparks it creates and says, "Isn't it beautiful?" just before Voldemort destroys it and the forces of evil come tearing through the school. Before the end of the night, Voldemort will be destroyed and right will triumph, but not before one of the Weasley twins is killed.

I feel like Mrs. Weasley sometimes. Like the most I can do is raise my wand and create a shield the best that I can, and am grateful that there are wonderful teachers, friends, leaders, grandparents, aunts and uncles that raise their wand with mine, but that eventually the kids will be out there, in the world, and hopefully they know the spells that will save them. I wish I could take the kids who bother Tritan and teach them a thing or two. I wish I could teach Apollo the difference between a "d" and a "b" so he could get a good grade on his spelling. I wish I could take all their hurts and pains and make them disappear. But they are on their own path, and I am so proud of their courage and strength and I can only hope that in the end their personal demons will be destroyed and right will triumph.

We have a pet

2011-07-31T17:34:00.000-07:00

We went to a Japanese festival in uptown Charlotte on Saturday. Since Brian's company works with a Japanese company in a joint venture, we are getting to know a lot about the Japanese culture and eating a lot of sushi. We watched drummers and made oragami and ate more sushi and noodles and met Brian's collegues. Apollo kept seeing kids with bags of goldfish and started begging for us to get one. We learned that there was a game in the courtyard, where for $2, you could try to scoop a goldfish into a bowl with a rice paper net. Once your rice paper net dissolved, your turn was up. I thought the chances of capturing a goldfish were pretty slim, and since the proceeds of the game went to Tsunami Relief, we let him play. Sure enough, his net dissolved before he could corner and capture a goldfish. Little did I know, each kid got a goldfish in a bag regardless. So, elated, Apollo walked off with a baggie of water and Goldie the goldfish.

Of course, now we had the problem of keeping the fish alive. We had to go to Walmart and get food and water purifier. We already had a tank at home. Athena was dying to go clothes shopping, so Brian dropped us off at the mall, while the boys took care of the fish. On the ride to Walmart, Brian hears Apollo screaming in the back seat, holding Goldie flopping in his hands, water all over his shirt, and the baggie nearly empty. We're still not sure what happened--did the baggie open? Did Apollo want to pet the fish? They put the fish in what water was left, and Brian bought a .38 cent goldfish to replace Goldie in case he was dead when they got back to the car. But happily, Goldie and Goldie 2 have both made it to day 2. Which is good since the only tank we could find was the 30 gallon tank we bought for the turtle we had 2 years ago.

We don't do well with pets in general, and I'm thinking that if the fish last a week, we will be lucky. If they do, we'll have to invest in a smaller tank or a table to put this one on and some more fish to fill it up.

Summer Slips By

2011-07-21T07:53:00.001-07:00

Ok, Blogger told me I was out of picture limits, whatever that is--so I do not have near enough pictures posted to try to show our summer so far...I will try to figure out what is going on and post some more later.
But summer is turning out to be far more less lazy than I hoped it would be...We hit the ground running with soccer camp and YW camp--Athena's first year. She had a blast shooting, swimming, hiking, and sliding down a natural waterslide. Mom and Dad and Alyssa, Jeff, and Abbey came the next week and we spent the week exploring things to do in NC. Some of them were really fun--the Schiele Natural Museum, hiking off of the Blue Ridge Parkway to some waterfalls, and going to Old Salem were some of the highlights. Save your money on Mystery Hill (near Blowing Rock) and the tour of furniture at Old Salem....But it was so much fun to have so much family at the same time!
Then there was 3 vs. 3 soccer tournament that Paris played in and Brian coached. They lost all their games but it was fun to camp out for 2 days and play and watch soccer. Tritan went to Scout camp and earned 4 merit badges--the hardest earned was in shooting--he got his bullseye on the last day! The Fourth of July was a bust since it rained all evening long (we salvaged it by having family movie night--the first Harry Potter...).
Brian took Tritan and Athena to NJ the next week...Athena stayed with her BFF from Jersey and they went to the shore, picked blueberries, and stayed up everynight talking til midnight. Tritan and Brian stayed in Princeton, where Brian worked and Tritan went to computer camp where he learned how to write in changes in videogames, including maps and avatars--(I don't know what anything means, I just know he loves doing it and he's good at it...). They got to hang out with a few friends from Jersey and watch Harry Potter. The bad news: Our favorite restaurant there just had a fire, and was closed. The good news: Our favorite grocery store was still there and Brian brought me home two cases of spaghetti sauce. Me and the rest of the boys hung out here and found the dollar theater, played Legos, ate at fun places, and played laser tag. I wondered if splitting the family up was a good idea, but I think Brian and Tritan got to bond a bit, and Tritan felt very grown up. And Paris and Apollo went from fighting every single day (several times a day) to being "best friends" and the fights completely dissappeard by the end of the week. (They came back the next week, but considerably less...).
Meanwhile, Athena is at the dance studio every chance she can get and we try to go swimming a few times each week (so grateful I don't have a pool to take care of this year...). The kids mow our gargantuan lawn for money each week, and Apollo and I are trying to keep up on his reading.
Yesterday I went to Staples for computer ink and there was a line of mothers buying back to school supplies and my stomach sunk....Summer is almost over already!! I don't care how old you are, or how busy you get during the summer--it is never long enough!

These are all pictures of the Schiele Museum --I'll try to post more pics later.

Punching bag

2011-06-05T17:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you are the puncher and sometimes you feel like the punching bag.

Apollo has been obsessed with karate ever since we watched Karate Kid for New Year's Eve. I waited almost a whole month to enroll him, just to make sure it wasn't after-movie euphoria. (Besides, we had 3 or 4 years worth of hand-me-down soccer cleats carefully packed and labeled, waiting to be used). But karate was calling, so we signed him up, and have patiently watched him kick, block, and strike his way through his first belt. He loves learning all the moves and the self-defense excercises; I love how they encourage goal-setting and discipline. He had his first test a week or so ago, and although everyone passed (they make sure everyone is prepared before they test them), he was really nervous.

But boy did he feel proud when he got his new belt!

It doesn't always work out so well, though. Last week Paris tried out for a travel soccer team. He is always one of the better players on his rec team, but then, there are a lot of kids on rec who just started to play. So we thought we'd expand his learning with some paid coaches and more competitive play. He has such a passion for soccer, and he never gets tired of playing it, we thought he'd be a shoo-in for sure. But I couldn't help trying to prepare him for rejection, just in case. "You know, if you don't get in, it's okay-- you can play rec, we'll look into other leagues..."So many of my try-outs and auditions ended in dissappointment when I was young, I couldn't help feeling that sense of doubt creep in with the nerves and excitement. "What's the matter, Mom?" Paris finally cut me off. "Don't you think I'll make it?" And with that I suddenly felt ashamed for even putting out the possibility of not making it. I tried to explain that it was my self-doubt, not to worry, he would surely make it.

But after two days of grueling try-outs in a balmy spring that suddenly turned into a punishing summer of 90* days, and then waiting and waiting and waiting for the call...it seemed that my doubts were warrented after all. At last the team was posted, and in a trembling voice, Paris told me, "Mom, I didn't make the team"...and my heart sank, as I tried to help my personal soccer hero grapple with the lows of dissappointment. I must admit throughout the weekend, waiting more anxiously for that call than I have for any other (and I have had my share of waiting for calls...from waiting for boys to waiting for jobs), I had had my share of tears and prayers, carefully hidden away from my hopeful boy. We had refrained from putting Paris in travel soccer in NJ because all of the games were played on Sunday. When I was struggling with this in NJ, I felt a promise from the Lord that my kids would not suffer from choosing to keep the Sabbath day holy, and yet now he wasn't good enough? It was a tough weekend.

The list was posted last Sunday, after the sacrament speaker had talked on this talk from General Confrence, and as I tried to comfort Paris, I can only have faith that this dissappointment will reveal new opportunities and growth. Maybe for me as much as for him.

Spring Break 2011

2011-05-01T14:35:00.000-07:00

This year Spring Break seemed like it took forever to get here. All the snow days we accumulated in January resulted in no breaks until Easter week when finally we could get a chance to get away, visit my sister who just had a baby, and visit some sites in southern VA that we never made it to when we lived there.

We did Williamsburg in a day and made it to all of the buildings, played games the settlers played, and a few even got locked up!

So then we went to Busch Gardens--tons of cool, scary roller coasters! We went upside down, dropped straight down, had the track above us, went 90 mph--basically did everything but fly! Apollo is just not quite tall enough to ride the biggest rides, so he got one on one time with Mom or Dad, while the rest of the family stood for hours in line...and so he got the most pics taken of him, too.

Here is three of the kids before they went on Escape from Pompeii (one of my favorites):

Here is after they got off:

Mom and the kids on the pirate ship:

The next day we went to Virginia Beach. We rented a family bike and rode up and down the boardwalk. We all took turns driving, and it was good to see who we should let wait to get their drivers license! This was way more fun than I thought it would be!

Then we spent a windy day at the beach and looking at light houses:

The next day we spent wrapping up loose ends at Busch Gardens, riding our favorite rides again, buying souveniors, seeing the birds and wolves:

Then onto Richmond to vist Alyssa, Jeff, and Abigail. The kids LOVED seeing a baby cousin, Apollo especially--he hardly let her out of his sight, and read to her, and even changed her diaper.

We had a great time as usual--we decorated eggs and had a great Easter dinner before they sent us on our way home with a gorgeous Easter basket.

Groupon Made Us Do It

2011-03-14T16:48:00.000-07:00

When we were in the midst of the worst of moving, I came upon a groupon for a zipline in Boone, NC--about 2 1/2 hours north of Charlotte. I thought why not? What a great family day trip! And so I bought 6 half-price tickets for Scream Time Zipline. And then I have fretted about it ever since...Apollo is so scared of heights he hugged the walls at the lighthouses we visited and won't get on Brian's shoulders. But we made reservations and drove up there this Saturday. So beautiful! And what do you know, Apollo was the 3rd across! (Paris, of course, was first) We had a great day, and we'll be looking for more groupons in the future!!

Sharing the Remote Control

2011-03-06T14:11:00.000-08:00

After having Brian be gone 5o% to 75% of the time during the last 13 years, I think I can safely say that I can survive without him. I know where the emergency shut off valves are, and how to flip a breaker. I've gone down to dusty, dirty crawl spaces and pulled down attic stairs. I can juggle 4 kids schedules and get the oil in the car changed. I learned to sleep alone in a king-sized bed. I became king of the remote control. I got dinner on the table most nights, but we ate off paper plates to cut down on the dishes. I became the tutor, the disciplinarian, the parent so tired at the end of the day that all I could do was yell from the couch to GO TO BED. And I convinced myself that really, this wasn't so bad. Look how efficient I can be. Look how capable I've become. Look how every weekend becomes a honeymoon, reunited.

Brian has been home now for 2 months, with one overnight trip. I admit that having Brian around more was a huge plus for moving down here. But it was also a huge concern. What if I started taking him for granted? What if he took me for granted? What if we annoyed each other? What if I couldn't share my remote or the bed for longer than 48 hours? What if he came and messed up all my carefully laid parenting plans?

But really, as much as I tried my hardest to be everything, as many soccer games as Brian took the kids to to reconnect, as many phone calls and e-mails that flew across America, I am finding that shouldering the day to day together really does have intangible benefits.

Like, teaching Apollo to ride his bike. Apollo tackles challenges a little at a time. Learning to ride in one weekend session was not going to work with Apollo. But 5 min. here, 15 min. there after work, in a few weeks, Apollo was pumping away.

This is Apollo--estatic

And then, a few weeks ago, Brian heard about Video Games Live, an interactive musical show that played music from video games and had live actors and laser shows, on a ride home from work on the radio. So Tritan dressed up as un-dead Mario, and they went on a Daddy-Son date, right when Tritan was having a particularly bad week and really needed a boost.

Tritan--estatic

But it is the day to day things that have really affected me. I serve dinner on real dishes, and even garnish them sometimes, with the anticipation that someone besides me will find Persian Walnut Chicken or Chicken-Ham Lasagna appetizing. And then, Brian can pick up Athena from dance or run the kids to mutual so I can clean up dinner sometime before 11pm. He picks up items from the store on the way home! He leaves early on R.S. Meeting nights so I can go without feeling guilty about Apollo's half-done math sheet! He builds IKEA furniture in his spare time! He calls me for lunch dates! And most nights, I still have energy to climb the stairs and read Apollo a story before he goes to bed. And if someone has to yell up the stairs for them to GO TO BED...his voice carries a lot more gravitas.

Yes, there is a lot more laundry. And a lot more ironing (why iron when you just have to pack it?)--and there could be a lot more incredulous gratitude for the ironed clothes like--"Oh, my goodness, I can't believe you ironed all my shirts! That must have taken a good hour at least! That's amazing! You did this for me! You are the greatest..."only here he gets choked up at the sight of all those ironed shirts and has to turn away. That could happen more.

But getting kissed every morning. Snuggling every night. I'll take that over earned air-line miles and supreme control over the remote any time. Because I'll never get tired of that.

Did you know that letters and numbers are people too?

2011-02-21T17:52:00.000-08:00

"O is a boy," Apollo said last night while I was helping him write his report on Alligators.
"What?" Who is O and what has this got to do with alligators?
"O is a boy," he repeated, and then pointed to his paper, "and A is a girl."
And immediately I knew what he was talking about. I couldn't help but get a little excited. All my life numbers have lived a secret life inside my head--5's were jolly fat men with top hats and 4's were their cranky, skinny wives; 3's were their precocious naked toddlers and they lived in the number 20; 1 was a skinny old wrinkly man; 0 was a magician; 7 was a rebellious teenager that grew up to be the wise and noble 49; 8 was a sexy lady of course, though 64 smelled like lipstick and carried a patent leather handbag...well, you get the idea.
However, I have never anthromorphized letters. So I was very interested.
"Why is O a boy?"
"Because he's just plain, and a has a ponytail."
Makes sense to me.
He went on...S's are snakes (of course), B's are butterflies....
t's are dads, standing with their arms out...e's are talking with their mouths open....y's are swimmers--straight body with one arm out doing a stroke...p's are swimming too, but they are just bobbing in the water...and my favorite, k's are kissing with the < being the lips doing the kissing.
I think there were more but I can't remember them all. I was just excited that someone finally gets my way of thinking. Or at least admits it out loud.

Roots Up, Roots Down

2011-02-16T17:24:00.000-08:00

So, glory hallelulah, our house in Jersey sold!

We were sweating it when, days after the inspection, a tree fell down on the property and tore up the gas line and killed our air conditioning. The whole culdesac had to be evacuated. All I could think was, "Really? Really?!?" But after about a week of mulling it over, the buyers decided that they would still buy the house, after we got the landscaping and air conditioning fixed.

It wasn't easy to coordinate a clean up from NC, but the deal went through last Thurs. and we celebrated all weekend. Mainly by shopping at IKEA.

We know we are really lucky and blessed to have sold the house already. In Alabama, it took us almost a year. So now we are ready to really settle in here.

Dig me a hole and call me a tree. I'm not going anywhere else for a long time.

Hello again. With a little w(h)ine.

2011-01-30T13:53:00.000-08:00

So, hello.

I know I've been gone for a while.

Moving is exciting. Until it isn't. When the newness wears off and the real work of navigating new school systems and trying to find extracurricular activities, and doctors, and supermarkets starts. And your kids struggle to find their place and it makes you feel helpless that you can't help more. And suddenly looking through the rear-view mirror looks awfully rosy.

No one really wants to hear all of that self-centered whining. Which I know is what it is. Because really, I have a beautiful house, and my kids are adjusting (some better than others) and we are making our way. Today is 70* out, so maybe that is why it feels like there is finally light at the end of the tunnel.

The kids have all suddenly seemed to have shot up and grown up. Everywhere I look there are wrist-bones popping out of sleeves and ankle bones peeking out below hems. Tritan's voice cracks less and less everyday and mostly settles on a gravelly tenor. He orders from the adult menu and usually looks around for more.

Athena's 12th birthday snuck in among the unpacked boxes, snow days, and new school schedules. Luckily, she has already made a few bffs and we've planned a girls night out--3 weeks late for her birthday, but fortunately she's not picky. She graduated from Primary and has jumped into YW with her whole heart. As we've looked at dance studios here, I had to let go of my dream for her of being a prima ballerina as I've watched her enthusiasm for ballet falter. But watching her come rushing out of her new lyrical dance class, her eyes bright with delight, it wasn't too hard to let go of the reins and let her make her own new choices. This will let her be more flexible for doing all of the activities she wants to try. She's already tried out for the middle school musical. She didn't get a part, but she surprised me with her reaction to that too--"Well, now I know what I need to do to get better," she said. Where do these kids come from? If they came from me they would be wallowing in self-pity for at least a day.

Paris has become a bookworm. The kid who wouldn't read a book 2 years ago now reads a book a day. He tells us all about the plot in long-winded sentences any time we get in the car. We try to stay interested. He has had about 3 sad days this entire move. He really has a gift for always being happy.

And Apollo. Apollo is climbing a very steep mountain. New Jersey was great for their modulated special-ed program, but in states that don't have the same funding (like NC) it's sink or swim. His choices here are to be in a self-contained class with very low-functioning students, or to be put in a regular class with a one-hour pull out help session. We opted for the latter and he has diligently worked to try to keep up. He's exhausted when he gets home and that means that we have a lot of melt-downs daily, but I can see that his reading is already improving. (Maybe a little pushing won't be a bad idea--if it doesn't break him). Meanwhile, he is a genius at math.

You would think that moving would get easier the more you do it. But I've also heard it explained that each move is almost like a death--you have to say good-bye to the way you lived your life, and start over new. And no matter how many times I do it, it doesn't get any easier to start over. But I continue with my mantra--"Faith is better than fear" and add this thought from Pres. Dallin H. Oaks--"faith prepares us to deal with life's opportunities--to take advantage of those that are received and persist through the dissappointments of those that are lost."

Here's to life's opportunities. Salud.

From Jersey to Charlotte

2011-01-05T12:08:00.000-08:00

We rolled out of Jersey Saturday, Dec. 18 at 7am. We spent the night at the same Marriott we spent the first 2 months of our 3 1/2 year stay in Jersey (you know I like circles). I was going to spend the night in Richmond with Alyssa but we made such great time that we opted for a long lunch and kept right on going. Charlotte seemed so close, and I was afraid that if I stopped, I might not be able to start again (not to mention, if we unpacked the van, we might never get it all back in again).

At long last, we made it to Charlotte on what felt like fumes--the last dregs of our momentum. Luckily, Brian was ready to take over and I have been slowly recharging ever since. Here is some of the lovely things that have kept me afloat and recharged my soul:

these beautiful trees, shawdows of symmetrical triangles, sit outside my bedroom window

The kids playing with their Christmas toys--me playing with the settings on my camera

Snow in Charlotte! Gone the next day!

Sometimes they actually get along!

My inspiration

I did get the tree up and the stockings hung, just in time for Santa.

My wonderful friends in Jersey without whom I never would have made it this far!

Mantras

2010-12-08T06:17:00.000-08:00

When I ran the half-marathon last year, I read a lot on strategies and training plans to run long distances. Most sources said you should pick some "power words" or a "motivational phrase" to keep you going when things got rough. When your mind went to that negative place of wanting to quit and give up, you said your motivational phrase to help refocus you and get you back on track. And it kind of worked. I think it might work better for people who don't have constant conversations with themselves.
My motivational phrase was "You can do it".
At mile 3, I said,"You can do it" and I smiled smugly, believing I could.
At mile 5, I said, "You can do it" and I cocked my head and shook it slightly, "I'm not so sure, it's still a long way to go." "You can do it" I said sternly to shut myself up.
By mile 8, I was having full on discussions with myself :
"You can do it."
"No, I can't. It's another--lets see, 8,9,10, 11, 12, 13--(you can't expect me to do math and run)--5 miles or so. I'll never make it."
"Yes, you can. You ran 13 miles in your training. You were fine. You didn't die."
"Yea, I got lucky. I'm pretty sure I'll die now."
"No. You got this. Just keep moving."
"Easy for you to say. You're just my brain. Lungs and legs, on the other hand, have a different opinion."
And so on, until, wow, look I made it to mile 9.
By mile 10, the argument had devolved to:
"You can do it."
"No, I can't."
"You can do it."
"No, I can't."
By mile 12, I could sense the end. I thought maybe I would make it after all. But if there was supposed to be a surge of energy that came with that knowledge, I didn't feel it. But I gave up aruguing with myself. I just repeated the mantra "You. Can. Do. It." dragging each word out with each ragged breath. I think by the time 13 miles came around and I saw the finish line at the bottom of the hill, I had just forgotten how to stop. But I was still pretty elated when I crossed the line, and I could stop. I was dissappointed that I hadn't run as fast as I wanted, and that it had seemed so hard despite all my training. But I couldn't help feeling proud that I had at least run the entire way.

Just like I know there are millions of people who have run a half-marathon, and tons who have run an entire marathon, I know there a lot of people who are dealing with stuff right now, a lot of them dealing with stuff harder than what I have to deal with. But still, this is hard.
It is hard being away from Brian for so long. I miss his reassurance, his optimisim, and his practicality. I miss his shoulders--to lay on, to cry on, to lean on.
It is hard to be everything for the kids. To be their taxi, their scheduler, their advocate, their teacher, their friend. Especially when there seems to be too little of me.
It is hard to leave this place. To leave friends, to leave places, to leave the comfort of knowing what is for the uncertainty of what could be.
It is hard not worry. About whether the house will sell, what should we do to sell the house, what should I get ready for the movers, how do I transfer the kids smoothly, how do I comfort them, etc. etc.
It can almost be overwhelming sometimes and I want to just quit. It's too hard. But I find myself repeating my mantra for this move. It's not something I picked, necessarily, it just came to me one day and I repeat it whenever I feel burdened down with all I have to do, all my worries, all my guilt--"Faith is better than Fear."
There is no arguing with a statement like that. "Faith is better than Fear".
So I will have faith that everything will work out for the best. I will have faith that North Carolina will be a good place for us. I will have faith that our family will be stronger and better. And I will have faith that I can do this. I may not do it the best way, or the way I wanted to, but I have faith that I can keep moving.
Faith is better than Fear.
Faith is better than Fear.

Apollo's birth story

2010-12-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

It's wierd how life just goes around in circles. 6 1/2 years ago, I was cleaning out our house in Boise, getting ready to move, while Brian squatted in our newly rented townhouse in Virginia with a blow-up mattress, a lawn chair and his computer. At least this time I am not pregnant. And Brian is living in a fully furnished (though equally sad) apartment with a new house waiting in the wings. And it was 6 1/2 years before that, that we left Boise the first time--just after Christmas, pregnant (with Tritan), to go to school in AZ. See, we just keep going in circles.
We settled down in Virginia pretty quickly. We knew we were only going to be there for 2 years, so we took advantage of the cheap transportation and free museums and went into the city often. The townhouses allowed us to make quick friends with our neighbors and I soon found myself involved in the ward, and a great Mom's group in the community.
I found a dr. right away. I didn't love him, but I didn't hate him, and after 3 kids, it didn't seem to matter anyway. I didn't find out what sex Apollo was, but I hoped he would be another girl. It just seems like good symmetry to have two of each.
He was due around Thanksgiving, so I didn't bother to make a Thanksgiving meal that year. We went down to the corner Subway and had turkey sandwiches instead.
Mom was due to fly in the next day. I started having contractions early that morning, but I laid down, hoping to postpone them til she got in. I went with Brian to pick her up--I didn't want to be alone, in case the contractions came back. Sure enough, on the ride there, the contractions came back, strong and consistent. We dropped Mom and the kids off at the house, and drove to the hospital. At least we made it in time that I could get an epidural this time, though it only half worked. It was still better than going all natural.
I think Apollo was scared to death they were going to drop him when he came out. He clung to everything he could reach. As soon as the pried the blanket or finger or whatever from his grasp, he would reach for something else. I'm not surprised that he is still deathly scared of heights.
He was beautiful--bright blue eyes, and dark hair, with just a tuft of blond over his left eye. I quickly fell in love with him--and I never regretted him not being a girl. He was my easiest baby by far. He nursed well, he was hardly ever fussy, he slept well. People assume that when I say 2 of my babies were planned, and 2 were a surprise that Apollo must have been one of the surprises--3 years after 3 kids 3 years apart (see that repetion again)--but no, I knew I wanted one more. In those crazy years of 3 babies/toddlers, my hands were more than full; they were overflowing--yet I always felt like someone was missing, and kept looking in the backseat to make sure all 3 carseats were full. (Yet who could blame me for hesitating just a little?)
Once Tritan and Athena were both in preschool, I thought, what a great time to have another baby. In 9 months, Tritan would be in kindergarden, and Paris and Athena would be in preschool and I could be alone with the baby in a way I hadn't been able to since Tritan was my one and only. I daydreamed about rocking the baby to sleep in the afternoon, drinking in all his new baby smells, for once documenting everything in a baby book...
What really happened was that Tritan ended up with afternoon kindergarten, and Athena and Paris with morning preschool. We spent most of the days driving to schools, dropping off, picking up, hurrying from one thing to the next. Apollo spent most of his naps in those wonderful convertible carseats, and my arms got buff carrying him around. They put me in as YW President 6 months after he was born, and then it seemed like Brian got to see him more than I did. I would come home from an activity and they would be watching Lost and eating Krispy Kremes.
But I also knew he was my last. I knew that our family was complete, as sure as I knew he was missing before. So whenever I got a chance, I drunk in all that good, new baby smell--from sour milk to baby powder, and held him whenever I could. Sometimes I half-wonder if his small size isn't from my sheer willpower to keep him small and cuddly forever.
And so when he wakes up with a bad dream, and asks to sleep in my bed, I let him snuggle in. When the older kids protest that I never let them do that, I shrug. I guess it's one of those things about being last...

Apollo turns 7

2010-11-29T06:27:00.000-08:00

Apollo turned 7--(7!)-- on Sunday, the 28th. Brian observed that none of our kids' birthdays are ideally located on the calendar--one's just after Christmas, one just before summer, one at the end--but Apollo's Thanksgiving birthday gets the shaft more than the others. Somehow between the last minute Halloween plans and Thanksgiving menu planning, not to mention that early Christmas shopping rush, I always realize Apollo's birthday is coming about the time that I should be mailing out the invitations already.

I offered to throw him a party a week or so after his birthday but reminded him that Brian wouldn't be there. Or he could ask a couple of friends and we would go to the Funplex--where you could go bowling, ride go karts and bumper cars, and play laser tag. After a lot of deliberating he decided on the smaller party-- so Dad could be there.

Apollo with his soccer buddy. His friend had to leave early, so he made new friends at the bumper cars, and ended up spending the last hour with them. I'm not too worried about him moving to a new school, he just makes a party wherever he goes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-25T17:55:00.001-08:00

So we are all under the same roof for Thanksgiving, so we are grateful. Grateful that Brian has a job, and that despite the fact we are moving yet again, the company has relieved a lot of the stress for us. I'm grateful the kids seem to be taking the upcoming move in stride--we have found a house in Charlotte, and will be closing in the middle of December. The kids will start new schools in the new year. I'm grateful we were able to find an existing house that we love and we'll be able to be together as a family sooner than later. Somehow, despite Brian's constant travel, this has been an especially hard separation. And, despite how hard it's been, I'm thankful for this experience. I've learned to separate people's criticism of my house, yard, wardrobe, and let it slip off me (somewhat). I've learned that given enough time and motivation, I keep a very clean house (just don't look in the drawers). And I've learned that I can't do everything--I have to say no and ask for help and invariably my friends are there for me. From helping me get my house ready to show, to taking care of my kids on a one-day crazy trip to Charlotte and back, to driving a half hour to help me with a flat tire, my friends have been my family. Thank you every one.

Soccer Cup Day

2010-11-16T06:15:00.000-08:00

Paris and Apollo ended their soccer season this Saturday. They both went out with wins although their seasons were a little rocky this year. Apollo started out having a good time chatting with his team mates, but by the end of the season he was all over the field, kicking balls. I asked him what changed, and he shrugged and said, " I guess I just grew up."
Paris is the play maker of his team. He can handle the ball really well and set up for the forwards (he plays half-back).
Luckily, Brian was in town this weekend, so he got to see their last games. Here are some pics from my new camera. There are a lot of options with this camera, and I am having fun trying to figure them all out.

Grandma and Grandpa come for a visit

2010-11-12T06:34:00.000-08:00

Mom and Dad came out last week when the kids had a few days off school for teacher workshops. They spent a few days with the Amish before coming over. We went to Valley Forge:

And the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and the Constitution Center (my batteries failed that day, so these are of the Constitution Center, which we haven't visited before. It's a great museum with a live performance and great displays).

Apollo is sitting on the lap of a distant relative--Ben Franklin!

We also shopped for Christmas, so Mom wouldn't have to worry about shipping. Then we just decided the night before they left to go ahead and celebrate Christmas while they were here. We popped in a Sausage Casserole, made some hot chocolate and played Christmas music. The kids didn't have a chance to get anything for Grandma and Grandpa but it didn't stop them from presenting them with gifts--Paris and Tritan made an i-pad holder for Grandpa's i-pad from a granola bar box and a Union soccer team fan flag. Apollo made a stuffed animal from pom pom balls and Athena gave them coupons for free babysitting.

The i-pad holder

The kids got boots and earrings for Athena, and their favorite lego sets for the boys and I got a new camera, so look for better pictures in the future!

It was great to have some visitors with Brian gone. We loved re-visiting some of our favorite sites. And they were a great help--raking leaves and doing some deep cleaning. We loved having them!

Soccer friends

2010-10-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

Apollo is playing soccer this fall. He's not quite as aggressive as Paris--he likes to spend his time on the field gabbing with the other players. Once, when he was playing defense, his goalie had to come break up his little tete-a-tete and tell him to help him out. Another time he ran off the field, had a drink, talked with us a while, then ran back to play. But today he played goalie and made a good save, ensuring his team the win at 1-0. He was pretty proud of himself. He and a neighbor boy are on the same team and have become fast friends. His friend pronounced that Apollo "was not his brother. But almost."

The great book race

2010-10-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

This weekend, Brian and I were strolling around Target picking up miscellaneous things we needed. We were walking past the book section when we saw this:

This is the latest book in the Percy Jackson series. Or I should say the first book of a new series Riordan is writing about the next generation of Olympians. Whatever, we knew the kids would love it. "It's always a good idea to buy a book," Brian said and put it in the cart. "Maybe we should save it for Christmas," I mused, trying to be one of those people who are organized enough to have their Christmas shopping done by Thanksgiving. Brian gave me a confused look (we normally don't think about Christmas until December 1).

The kids promptly found the book as they were bringing in the bags from the car. (Why carry in bags when you have kids for that?) Paris and Athena both pounced on it, Paris diving to grab it, Athena chasing him upstairs. We could hear them yelling, spouting rushed logic as to who should get it first--"I saw it first!" "You got the last book first!" "I need a book for my reading log!" etc. There were quite a few grunts, too--so I took a moment to yell up the stairs "You better not rip that book!" before I rolled my eyes at Brian and sighed. Brian grinned at me. "Our kids are fighting over a book. We must have done something right." Well, it may have more to do with Rick Riordan than our great parenting, but I had to admit that if my kids are going to fight, it might as well be over a book.

Paris and Athena worked it out anyway. They each have a day to read the book--although they are not above sneaking a peek when it's not their day, or keeping it in secret places when it is their day. They compare how much they've read and have a competition to see who will finish it first. Athena even let Paris read it while she was at dance one day, because, she said with a wicked gleam in her eye, if he finishes it first than she will have the book all to herself. Tritan's not so competitive; he's quietly waiting til the flurry of book passing and obsessive reading is over. But I've caught him skimming through it during the odd moment of it being temporarily abandoned. Meanwhile there is a lot of reading with flashlights, reading on car drives, reading while trying to set the table. It's great.

A glass of apple juice

2010-10-11T06:02:00.000-07:00

This weekend I flew down to Charlotte with Brian to look for houses. Mom offered to stay with the kids, but I know how hard it is to fly from Idaho to NJ and back in a weekend, and Alyssa, who lives in VA, was kind enough to put her plans on hold for the weekend and fly up to take care of the kids. She did such a great job! It can't be easy to be plopped down in someone else's house, and drive their kids around strange streets to get them to all their dance classes and soccer games. But of course, she did a great job, and the kids loved having her here.

Meanwhile, we were on our way to the airport at 3:30 in the morning to start a marathon 2 days of looking at design centers and existing homes. I was not in a good place as we zoomed around the nearly empty freeways--I was stressed with showing the house; felt overwhelmed with all the kids needed that I knew I couldn't get done; felt bad about all the times I yelled at them, mainly because I'm stressed; despaired that this trip would prove as fruitless as the last; worried that I had neglected to tell Alyssa something important. I was exhausted and I hadn't even showered in 3 days.

Brian led me through his carefully choreographed waltz through the airport. He's flown to Charlotte so many times, he has the timing down perfect. Print out boarding pass. Walk down to this security station that never has a line, pick up a bagel at Au Bon Pain, and then walk down to the gate just as they're boarding. Still, I was not impressed as he smoothly flew through security, pulling out his laptop while peeling off his shoes, while I struggled to pull out my zip-loc of liquids, and take off my jacket. I accused him of leaving me behind, when I finally stumbled my way through, several minutes later. I was irritated and resentful as I pulled out my book as the plane taxied off--we wouldn't even be moving AGAIN if it weren't for his stupid job. He offered me his neck pillow, which I acrimoniously declined, opened my book, and promptly fell asleep.

I woke up an hour later as we landed. I blinked, trying to sort out where I was, licking my dry lips and stretching. Brian, fully awake, handed me a full cup of apple juice. As I drank, I noticed he had put away my book and tucked the pillow up around me. I imagined him watching over me as I slept, anticipating my every need--perhaps he did. But somehow a glass of apple juice suddenly changed everything. We were going to be all right. We were going to find a house we loved and move to Charlotte where we could be together all the time and take care of each other.

And so the rest of the trip was wonderful. I watched with bemused awe as Brian navigated this life of rental cars, hotels, restaurants with finesse and ease. He made me feel like a princess all weekend--he even booked a suite at the hotel, which I made him change because I wanted a shower so badly after we flew in and the suite wasn't ready yet.

As for the house, well, we're still working on that. I imagine we'll have a choice made soon, though. Believe me when I say there are a lot of spread sheets, digital pics, and prayers made in behalf of this search.

And, Audra, I didn't forget about the pics you wanted to see of the house. If you know of any one looking for a deal in South Jersey, send them our way! .

House for sale

2010-09-29T11:10:00.000-07:00

I'm sure everyone who reads this blog already knows we're planning on moving to NC ASAP. Which probably means Christmas, and more likely June. Work has been bugging Brian to move to Charlotte since we moved from AL, and slowly his job has become more and more centered there. The good news: Brian will get a promotion (yay Dad!) and it is a community that fits our needs a little better (no ballet rehearsals or soccer games on Sun.; TWO wards of our church in the community) PLUS Brian's work is located only 20 min. away from the community we're looking at and he promises travel will be severely cut back (since he spends 90% of his time in Charlotte now, I hope so). We're all looking forward to seeing a little more of Dad--in fact, that is the major reason we're putting our house up for sale in this horrible market. Brian scored a sweet deal from work so we won't actually get hurt by selling the house low, but we still have to sell it.

Which is why I haven't written. Getting a house ready to sell admist going back to school--getting supplies, 4 back to school nights, soccer games and practices, and ballet has almost done me in. My realtor, in regular blunt NJ fashion, gave me more and more to do to make my house acceptable. But between Bev coming over to help take painter's tape off the walls and hang curtains, and Br. Monts being my on-call handy-man to do all the things Brian would do if he were here, I think my house looks pretty awesome. Well, it looks the best it can, considering.

Meanwhile, Paris got his braces off:

And Apollo got a new set of ear tubes. This will be his fourth set. He has crummy eustacian tubes according to our dr. Hopefully, this will be his last set.

Apollo and Paris are home sick today so I decided to take it easy with them. Apollo really is sick. Paris I think is just trying to get out of math because he forgot his homework again. Meah, we all could use a day to recharge once in awhile.

First Days of School

2010-09-15T05:51:00.000-07:00

These are the first few days of school outfits. Can you tell who plans all night what they are going to wear and who throws on the first thing they see? (There are 2 in each category.)

School preview

2010-09-01T17:21:00.000-07:00

Apollo is going to a different school than our neighborhood elementary school so he can have more concentrated help with his speech and reading. So Paris will be going to one school and Apollo will go to another one, and for some reason (hello overprotective-of-her-last-child mom) it is freaking me out. Luckily, Apollo's new school had an open house today.
We walked through to where he would be let off the bus to where his home-room class is. "See you just walk straight til you get to the door with the smiley faces are." He told me he would draw a picture of smiley faces on a card to bring with him so he wouldn't forget. (Isn't he smart?)
Then we visited his speech room, his pull-out room, the gym, and library. I lifted him up to see into the cafeteria. "It's so big" he exclaimed, and when he I set him down he let his knees buckle in awe and fell down. A fellow student rushed to his side to ask if he was all right. I swear Apollo rolled his eyes as he tried to explain that he was just overcome by the bigness of the cafeteria. His new friend stood there confused--he either didn't understand or couldn't believe someone swoons over a cafeteria, and Apollo walked away muttering.
Outside another mom introduced her son to us. He and Apollo had the same home-room teacher. Apollo held out his hand and shook his new friends hand deliberately, "Hi, I'm Apollo. What's your name?" I was a little stunned and no longer worried about him making friends.
The whole tour took about 10 min. and that was going back to search for water fountains. So when we were climbing in the car, and Apollo spotted the playground equipment, he suggested I should let him play. "I can make new friends," he said, though I have an inkling he was less concerned about making friends than in manipulating me into letting him play.
It was about 100* outside and so (amazingly) there were relatively few "friends" playing, so I got elected to push down on the teeter totter opposite him and help him explore the balancing bridge. "When I come here with my new buddy, he'll have to stay with me because that's what buddies do. And I will play soccer on that field. And all the girls will chase me because I'm a boy. They'll say 'There's a boy! Agghhh!'" he holds his hands up, waving and hollering. "But I can run faster than them," he assures me.
Looks like he'll have a fun year.

It's Official (and Tritan's birth story)

2010-08-30T16:13:00.000-07:00

We have a bona fide teenager in the house!

Tritan turned 13 on Aug. 19. I think he might have grown 2 inches that day, too.

January 1996 I decided it was time to have a kid. We'd been married for a couple of years and I was graduating in a year. I parked next to the old BSU gym for one of my night classes, and I could see toddlers jumping and balancing on gymnastic equipment in the big picture windows, and suddenly I wanted a tumbling toddler of my own so badly I couldn't breathe. So I went off the pill, and Brian and I got busy trying to make a baby.

We were pretty busy but 6 months went by without breaking open a pregnancy test. Brian trotted off to Brazil for a student exchange in June, and I went with him for two weeks. It was an awesome two weeks--we toured every inch of Curitiba, one of Brazil's most fascinating cities--the zoo, the botanical gardens, the shops; we rode a train through the mountains; we took a side trip to Iguassu Falls on the Brazil/Argentina border and explored Argentina as well. We dined on Nescafe and sweet breads for breakfast; we had little buns stuffed with meat for lunch; and we ate incredible barbecued meats at churrascarias. But I had a hard time not being distracted with the possibility that there wouldn't be more than just Brian and I in our family. Wasn't 6 months a long time? Should we see a fertility doctor yet? Each month the disappointment was more bitter and the desire for a baby more passionate.

It didn't help matters that Brian stayed in Brazil for 6 more weeks after I flew back to the states and started working. By October, I had made an appointment with a fertility doctor for the following month. I was graduating in Dec. and Brian had already been accepted to grad school in Phoenix. I could hardly be excited about either prospect: I was pretty obsessive over wanting a baby. I cringed every time someone in our student ward asked when we were going to start trying, and there seemed to be newborns everywhere I looked. Friends complained about swollen ankles and morning sickness and I longed to be sick and fat. I made a promise to never complain about being pregnant if I was ever blessed enough to be with child.

Of course, that month, probably around Halloween, I got pregnant. Just before Thanksgiving I was eating a turkey sandwich at work and suddenly couldn't stomach the thought of poultry. I thought it was just lunch meat gone wrong. But by the first of December I was brave enough to take a pregnancy test (I'd had several months of being late and still not pregnant, so I was afraid of another disappointment) and this time it was positive.

We told our parents on Christmas day. Throwing up Christmas dinner might have given it away, too. The sad part was, we were leaving for Arizona by the first of the year and suddenly I was terrified of going through pregnancy so far away from my mom and my friends. In fact it took a couple of weeks of living off credit cards before I pulled myself together and got a job through a temp agency.

I have to admit pregnancy was not all I dreamed it would be. I felt sick most of the time. I felt fat. I waddled. I was exhausted all the time. I broke my promise and complained plenty. But I was ecstatic that our baby boy was doing so well.

After starting off with an OK doctor, I switched to a dr. I loved and he suggested inducing me when my due date rolled around. I was a little hesitant since in my perfect birth plan (yes, I read all the books) I was going to go all natural. And also, as uncomfortable as it was to be pregnant, giving birth scared me to death--I wanted to put it off as long as possible.

My mom came in a couple of days before my scheduled inducement. She cleaned, and cooked, and got everything ready. Which was good, because I never "nested" with any of my kids.

They induced me early in the morning. My contractions started soon after. I walked and walked the halls of the maternity ward because it seemed to help the pain and it was supposed to hurry the process along. Brian and my mom took turns walking with me, rubbing my back, holding my hand. To be honest, I remember my mom more than Brian (sorry, honey). She walked with me the most, and when I lay in the bed trying to breathe through the pain, she would pretend to be doing needle work, but really she was trying not to show how much she wished she could take away my pain.

When the contractions got really painful, and the doctor said I was only dilated to a 5, I had to scale back my expectations, and gave in to an epidural. It worked great. Of course, as soon as the pain went away, I was sure I could have hung in there a little longer. But after I got it, I dilated quickly and before I knew it, Brian was cutting the cord, and I had my first squealing child in my arms.

We named him Tritan because it was the only name we could agree on. I wanted something traditional and Brian wanted something unique. We changed the spelling from Triton to Tritan so it would be more like Brian--plus we had no idea we had a line of gods and goddess waiting to come down. I didn't have any number of kids in mind; all I knew was that I had one perfect child, and for that moment, I had all that my heart desired.

Busy summer days

2010-08-15T16:07:00.000-07:00

Well, I put as many miles on my car this week as if I had driven to Miami but we didn't go anywhere. Paris was in Cub-Scout camp all week, and I had to drive him back and forth because Apollo was still in summer school. (Normally, I walk with the cub scouts because our week long day camp is AWESOME here, but couldn't this time because of Apollo's school.) He had a great time, as usual, and made some great friends.
And Tritan was in computer camp all week at Princeton. Here is a video CNN did at his camp this week. Tritan's not in it, but it gives you an idea of what a cool camp it is. Tritan took 3-D design and learned how to use MAYA which is the same program that film-makers use to make CGI effects and 3-D animation. Mostly it's awesome because Tritan fits in seamlessly there. He loves learning new techniques and programs and everyone speaks his language there. The instructors think he is crazy creative and a hard worker. Which is good for him, since I don't really understand what it takes to create a truck in 3-D, and maybe don't appreciate it as much as I should.
Athena has been taking dance camp for the last 6 weeks as well. So now I feel like the lazy days of summer will officially begin this week--no camps, no school. We are sleeping in and swimming in the pool. Drop by if you have time...

Dorney Park

2010-08-09T07:10:00.000-07:00

We promised the kids a trip to an amusement park this summer and realized suddenly that this weekend was the last free weekend we had until school started. So somewhat spontaneously we packed up and headed 2 hours north to Allentown, PA to Dorney Park.
These pictures are mostly of Apollo because his rides moved slow enough to take pictures. It's hard to get a picture of roller coasters going 75mph or hanging upside down. Apparently middle age is already settling in on me: my inner ear was having a tough time--after going on Hydra, a roller coaster that goes 360* and Monster, one of those up and down, round and round rides, I was as white as a sheet and broke out in a cold sweat. Hopefully, that was just this trip for some reason. Anyway, I volunteered to take Apollo on his rides while Brian braved the older rides. We all had a great time.

Don't the older kids look thrilled to get their picture taken with Linus? Ah, at least we have Apollo, who thought it was great.

Summer school and soccer

2010-08-05T07:04:00.000-07:00

So all I know is I am getting up way too early for summer.

Apollo has summer school this year and his bus comes at 7:15. Which means I set the alarm for 6:30 so I can haul my butt out of bed by 6:45 so I can slowly wake Apollo (rubbing his arms, stretching his legs) so I can dress him while he pretends to be asleep by 7 so he can eat the cereal I've poured for him by 7:12.

I always feel a little bad when I put him on the bus and wave good-bye. He only goes for half a day, but c'mon--summer is for swimming, sleeping in late, watching re-runs of shows your parents used to watch in the middle of the afternoon, peanut butter jars on the counter all day--not SCHOOL! I've tried to be upbeat about it--Lucky you! You get to play with your friends all day! And I hear today is Pizza day!--but of course, Apollo knows this isn't Normal Summer Behavior. When he gets home he plays with an intensity only a kid who is trying to make up for lost time plays with.

And then it kills me when I have to call him in from jumping on the neighbors tramp for homework. Or call him in to go to bed in the darkening twilight just as the neighbors are starting to play Bloody Wolf (which is really flashlight tag, but they call Bloody Wolf for reasons that are beyond me--I blame Stephanie Myer). On good days I say to myself, "Someday he'll thank me for getting him caught up in school." On bad days I say to myself, " Someday he'll hate me for taking away his summer." I suppose only time will tell.

So then after Apollo is off, I have time for breakfast and then wake up Paris for soccer camp. We are a soccer family and Paris is the king. Not only does he play like a little tornado but somehow wins the World Cup family pool every time.

The neighbor kid who is a freshman this year went to the same camp this year and so we carpooled. The first day I took them, the neighbor kid went on in the bravado of youth about trying out for high school teams, and how much better high school will be than middle school, etc. Paris, quiet for once, took it all in, and I'm sure was daydreaming about trying out for high school teams, too. When I dropped them off, I asked Paris if he wanted me to walk him up to the field. "No, I'm good," he said as he scrambled out of the car, hauling out his huge soccer bag, trying to keep up with the neighbor kid who ran up to his high school friends. So Paris was left to walk up to the field by himself, his bag heavy with water and Gatorade bouncing on his hip, looking tiny and lonely. (Of course, he was probably fine. I was feeling tiny and lonely watching my kids become themselves, walking away from me.)

The next morning I was smarter. I asked Paris if he wanted me to walk up with him before we picked up the neighbor kid. "Sure, if you want," he shrugged. And I smiled to myself.

And it's a good thing I did walk up with him. Because when we reached the field, he turned to me, and said timidly, "I forgot my ball." He said this timidly because my normal reaction is to sigh an exasperated sigh and start in with the This Is Why I Ask You To Get Ready the Night Before speech and end with If You Would Put Your Things Away Where They Belong You Would Have Them When You Need Them speech. But this time I surprised him with a Where Do You Think It Is? sincerely asked question and raced off to find it. Because after all, that's what summers are for, right, making sure your kids have a good time.

When I came back 15 min. later he ran up to meet me. "Thanks, Mom," and he cocked his head back like he was going to give me a kiss before he realized where he was and instead ducked his head while I rifled his hair before he ran off to play.

Reunions

2010-07-28T06:12:00.000-07:00

We are just now recovering from our 2-week stay in Idaho, involving 2 family reunions. Tritan got home from scout camp on Saturday (where he had a great time, by the way--he came back talking a million miles an hour--so unlike him--and continued to play practical jokes for the next couple of weeks) and we packed up and left early on Sunday.
The first week was Brian's family reunion in Mountain Home where the kids rode motorbikes, went boating, played games, made crafts, raced pinewood cars.
The second week was my family reunion in McCall where we went hiking, boating, made crafts, had treasure hunts.
Of course, the real fun was in seeing cousins and sisters and brothers and parents.
Two weeks seems like forever, but we still wish we could have spent more time with all of them, and seen some friends, too! But we are glad to be home.

My birthday--this year I get a cake!

We found a hollow tree, still standing that Apollo could stand up in.

There are still more pics on Brian's computer so I'll post those later.

Tritan Comes Home Today!

2010-07-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

When Brian travels, I feel like everything is harder--like I've lost an arm, and am still trying to do all the things I normally do, plus what he does--it's manageable but challenging.
This week with Tritan gone to Scout Camp, I feel like I've lost my sense of taste. We had the Fourth of July. We had a great time with a friend and her kids (tried BBQ'ing ribs!) and watched fireworks at the local high school. Did you notice the layer of white fireworks down low, then the red in the middle and blue on top? my husband noted. I hadn't. I felt like it was too hard to concentrate.
Brian's birthday was this week, but it was pathetic. How can we celebrate anything without the whole family?
I put the kabash on everything fun except for shopping at IKEA, some barbeque, and a trip to the ice cream store because how can we go to the amusement park or the zoo without T-man?
We missed him babysitting, and mowing the lawn (Brian had to do it for the first time in years!), and playing with Apollo, and playing Roblox with Paris, and his computer acumen, and his appetite (too many leftovers this week!). Apollo has been counting down the days til he gets back and Paris announced last night that the first thing he was going to do when Tritan got home was give him a big hug.
I'm sure he had a great time. And hopefully next time it'll be easier. But with only hours left til he gets home, I get wait til life is full of Tritan's flavor again!

Summertime

2010-07-02T08:14:00.000-07:00

So school's been out for a week. My husband calls and asks "What're you up to today?"

"I don't know," I answer. And isn't that the whole point? Still, planned, unplanned, every day has its own adventure.

Paris had birthday money to spend so he went shopping with me one day. And I mean shopping shopping. We go to Mt. Laurel to go shopping at Wegmens, Target and Costco, and I even brought a cooler. Everything went fine til we went to Costco. I told Paris to grab the milk on the other side of the aisle while I got some stir-fried veggies. I rounded the corner and he was gone. I calmly looked down all the frozen/refrigerated aisles before frantically walking up and down all the aisles, with visions of someone grabbing him and dragging him out the back door. (Was there a back door?) Maybe they used the doors of the between the frozen section, where they keep the catering trays and stock the milk. I could picture them watching me pace the aisles, duct tape over Paris' mouth, as he struggled to be heard, but I pass on oblivious. I couldn't believe I'd gotten him safely to the age of 10, just to lose him now. I was just about to confront a Costco worker and have them shut down the store, when he came flying by me with the cart. "Oh, I thought you meant the other side of the store, not aisle" he said when I demanded in a gruff, yet relieved voice where he'd been.

On another day I took Tritan to the Scout store to buy regulation pants and socks and all that for Scout camp. Then we went to lunch and talked about Scout camp. I am excited for him to go, but he's my first one after all, and I think I am going to be more nervous about him going, sleeping away from home for a WHOLE week, without any communication from him at all. I suppose it's good training for when they go on missions. For me.

Anyway, I peppered him with all sorts of do's and dont's. Like if they initiate you, don't get mad, just say "ha, ha, you got me." But if they try to play more than 3 tricks on you, tell a leader--cause that's just excessive. And be sure and pray every night. Promise me you'll pray. Every night. And try to make new friends. What a great opportunity to make new friends. Like sit down and comment about the weather, or the food, or ask them where they're from. And listen to your leaders. And you'll have so much fun. And what do you think they'll serve in the cafeteria. I'm sure he was trying not to roll his eyes at his Mom. Believe me, if I could wrap him in some sort of bubble wrap, like a hamster ball or something, to let all the good things in and keep all the bad things out, I would. I know it's just a week....oh, I'm going to be a mess when he goes on his mission or away to school.

Another day we went to a park which has a mile running trail that circles it. There is a playground in the middle, so the kids played while I ran. Paris ran one mile with me--he ran the whole way!

We got the kid's hair cut. Tritan stuck to the tried and true. Paris is growing his out, Athena got bangs and layered hers, and Apollo insisted on a mohawk--or faux-hawk like the soccer players wear.

I wonder what we'll do today.

Paris' birthing story

2010-06-30T06:07:00.000-07:00

I'm doing the birth stories of the kids this year for their birthdays, so here is Paris'.

Paris' birth started out innocuous enough. We had moved to Torrence, CA just outside of LA exactly 9 months earlier. Back then, in September, we were excited and scared. We had just moved into a tiny courtyard apartment, white and blue, all the units surrounding a lovely blue pool that almost none of the tenants ever used. We were sure one tenant was a 'lady for hire' and it was sad, since her 5 year old daughter played on the steps while she entertained her guests. Another tenet had a big van that was full of odds and ends that they would repeatedly and surreptitiously pack and unpack Friday before the flea market on Saturday.

**********

I found out I was pregnant while Brian was overseas for close to a month. He left for Malaysia after we had been in Torrence for a whole 3 weeks. Being directionally challenged, I was terrified of leaving the apartment, mainly because I wasn't sure I could find my way back home. We were almost out of food before I realized our apartment was within walking distance of a mall, a grocery store, and a park.

Although we talked frequently, I decided to break the news to Brian after he came home. When he came home he brought me beautiful Malaysian dresses and skirts. I think he was surprised when I was less than enthusiastic--I knew I wouldn't be able to fit into them for long. We took a walk that night--I loved Torrence because we walked everywhere--and he told me he had some good news. So do I, I said. I got a promotion! he said. So did I! I said. He looked at me, wondering if I was mocking him. I just got promoted from a mother of 2 to a mother of 3!

***********

Finding an OB was a pain. I'd already had such a great dr. in AZ I knew I wouldn't be able to find one here that I liked as well, so I picked the first name on my insurance list that was close by. He turned out to be from the Middle East and most of the women in the waiting room wore hijabs. It didn't bother me much--I tend not to care about much when I'm pregnant aside from when my next nap or meal will be.

The dr. was a short, tan man, with a graying beard and dark glasses. Brian waited outside with Athena and Tritan. It was a small room, with older furnishings and a free-standing metal sink of milky liquid that had utensils in it. I'm not sure what it was, or what was in there, but as soon as I saw that I knew I should have just left. But I stayed, got undressed, and endured his (too through) examination. When he checked my breasts for lumps and then laid his head on my chest to check my heart, I knew this was NOT the dr. for me. I dressed and left as quickly as I could.

My next dr. was a soft-spoken Latino. He was better. He was fine. This was my 3rd baby in 3 years and I was trying hard to eat ice instead of sand, so a modern office with a stethoscope was good enough for me. But he wouldn't induce me. Let's see how things go naturally, he always said when I asked. Which would have been fine when it was my first and I WANTED to go naturally. But now that I had 2 babies induced I could see the wisdom of it all. I could schedule someone to take care of the other 2 kids. I would know what was going to happen. I could get pain meds. All good things.

*******

I started labor on the 16th. For half of Snow Falling on Cedars, I had regular contractions. But after the movie ended, I took a shower and the contractions stopped. The next night I woke up with contractions. They didn't hurt hardly at all. In fact, I almost welcomed them. At last, we would get our baby. I took my time taking a shower and then waking up Brian--I didn't want to go to the hospital unless this was really the real thing--especially since it was the middle of the night and we had to call my friend Diane to watch our kids.

By the time we dropped off the kids and drove to the hospital, the contractions were pretty much a minute or so apart. But aside from finding potholes extremely annoying and accusing Brian of trying to find every one of them, they still didn't hurt that bad. I was surprised when the nurse checked me and declared it too late for drugs--in fact, it was too late for paperwork, too. She whisked us from the check-in room to the labor and delivery room pretty fast.

A half hour later, the dr. made it to break my water, and still my contractions were just annoying. I thought this natural birth was going to be a piece of cake. Only I hadn't counted on how to get the baby OUT. Once it was time to push, I hadn't accounted for how big a baby actually is--and how much it burns. Oh it burns. And it hurts, big time. I yelled and probably swore. The nurse told me to calm down. Which made me want to go all WWF on her, maybe hit her with the iv pole or something. And poor Brian, who sat through 2 relatively pleasant epidural births, didn't know what to do. He tried to soothe me too, blowing on my face to remind me to breathe or something. Do you know how annoying someone breathing on you is? Especially in excruciating pain? So I hit him. I did. A full on slap as hard as I could. (When he suggested a day later maybe I should take some anger management classes, I told him to get out of my room.) And when he finally came out--"It's a boy!" (we hadn't found out the sex before)--I thought of course he is, I knew it all along (only boys could make me crave dirt and sand, right?). I was exhausted, and my body went into shock. I was shaking so much I couldn't even hold him very long.

My recovery room was a shared room, and though they offered to keep baby boy Wortham in the nursery I insisted he be by my side. Between sharing the room, the construction going on in the hospital, and all those cheery nurses that kept waking me up to feel my stomach I was so anxious to go home. But we had to name him before we left, it was part of the paperwork. Brian wanted Olin (a Greek poet's name), and though I was pretty out of it I knew that was NOT his name. Can you imagine Paris being an Ollie or Lenny? I was adamant that his name was Paris--he could go by Perry if he hated Paris, right? Maybe Brian was afraid I'd hit him again, but he gave in and I can't imagine him with any other name.

Paris turns 10

2010-06-28T12:06:00.000-07:00

Admist all the end-of -the year activities and despite his poison ivy, Paris turned 10 on June 18. It was also conviently the release date for Toy Story 3, so that's what we did. We all loved it. I can't believe they keep making them better! I think we all cried at the end, too. Then we went to Chili's for lunch and they couldn't manage to pull together anybody to sing to him or bring him any dessert, so that's the last time I'll go there for a birthday! I was feeling guilty already that his birthday was so anticlimatic. I had orginally mentioned that we'd skip school on Friday to go to the movie, but after he missed so much school for poison ivy and the steroids were finally kicking in, I was worried he'd missed too many days already.

So then we went home and opened presents--a toy story lego set and a bean bag chair. A bean bag chair may not seem like a very good birthday present, but that's what Paris really wanted. He's already picked out a mattress for Christmas.

He's still shirtless because it is the day after he stopped taking steroids and just before we went in to eat, he lifted his shirt to tell me he was still itchy, and I could see red welts starting to rise again from the poison ivy. I was beginning to wonder if it would ever go away, but by Tuesday he had stopped asking for Benedryl and now the you can hardly see the rash at all. Of course, if you come to our house any day of the week, Paris will probably be shirtless. If he could go around in underwear all day, he would.

School's out!

2010-06-25T11:17:00.003-07:00

I'm not sure who is more happy--me or the kids. Thurs. we slept in and did nothing for one whole glorious day. There is a virtual avalanche of events at the end of the year--field trips and recitals and end of the year ceremonies and parties. Unfortunately, between actually going to these events and Paris' poison ivy (itch free for 4 days and counting--woo hoo) I haven't documented them very well:

This is Athena's 5th grade field trip. Instead of doing a graduation ceremony, they go to a day camp facility and get to play tennis, fish, canoe, and go through rope obstacle courses. They provide pizza and ice cream and although it was a hot day, the kids really had fun. Athena caught the most fish of everyone--7!! She used a combination of worms and bread, in case you want to try it...

Field Day was another hot day, but that didn't stop the kids from playing hard. This is a picture of Paris (silver shorts) overcoming his opponent in a foot race.

Apollo in a potato sack race. BTW--they used Idaho potato sacks...

Bucket relays

Athena had 2 different dance recitals in the same weekend. Saturday was her ballet recital--her costume was ephemeral, so gorgeous. And her jazz was Sunday. It made for a hectic weekend. I think we will just go with one studio next year. She did wonderful in both her dances--

This is a picture of her and her friends just before their talent show at school. They choreographed it themselves and worked on it since Jan. At the end, I think they were more concerned about buying the perfect outfit and even coordinating fingernail polish than about the dance itself. But I have to say, for a couple of 5th graders, they did really well.

Kindergarten graduation: The shirts were so cute. Each hand print is by one of the kids in the class, so they can remember each other. Which is especially poignant since this is a MDK (multiple disabilities kindergarten) and some kids are staying in kindergarten, some are going onto 1st grade at that school, and others are going to MD-1st grade at another school (which is what Apollo is doing). Most of the kids were in the MD-preschool so we have sort of become a little family--all the kids and parents getting together for birthday parties, school events, etc. and comparing stories and asking each other questions. Ah, well, I guess we all have to move on. I brought water balloons and a limbo stick, which turned into mass chaos, but hey, that's what graduation parties are, right?

Anyhow, they are done for awhile, though Apollo is going to go to summer school. (I've told him, but I don't think it's sunk in yet.) It will start the week after the 4th. I am looking forward to swimming, and barbecues and family reunions and going on a few "spontaneous" trips.

Poison Ivy

2010-06-20T16:03:00.000-07:00

This is what Paris has been up to: itching.

2 weeks ago, we went on a ward fishing trip. Paris climbed a tree to detangle a fishing line and ended up getting poison ivy. And it attacked with a vengeance. It's been over his stomach, legs, and arms and itched so much that he literally did not sleep for 3 nights. He told me at one point that he thought he "forgot how to sleep." Thank goodness there has been absolutely nothing going on in school, since he had to miss most of those days.

We tried baking soda, hydrocortisone, gold bond, essential oils, oatmeal, benedryl, and even vinegar. Nothing seemed to work for very long. Finally I insisted the dr. see him (they normally don't see poison ivy unless it's a small child or it's on their face) and he got a prescription for a steroid. That seemed to work--for a while. At least, it worked so he had an itch-free day for his birthday on Friday, but by Saturday it was back. We'll go back to the dr. tomorrow--but in the meantime we distract him during the day, rub on hydrocortisone and feed him benedryl, and give him an oatmeal bath before night. We also let him run around without any clothes--because we're liberal like that.

I am just grateful that it is poison ivy, that it will eventually go away (right?), and that he is really a brave, patient child (who knew). In the throes of it all, he patiently bore the pain and itching, and said things like, "Thanks Mom for all you're doing for me" and "I think I know why God gave this to me, so that I can understand the plan of Happiness. That he gave me a family that takes care of me." Which is what I needed to hear after some sleepless nights myself. I could tell he was feeling better when he wondered why I wasn't making him lunch yet....

And I am also grateful for our ward family that brought us essential oils and gave him blessings and called to see how he was doing. Brian was out of town for most of this and it was nice to know our home teacher and friends could step in for him.

This was seriously one of the worst maladies we've had--more disruptive and perplexing than all of the broken bones, surgeries, and illnesses we've had to date. So here is some advice...Leaves of three--LEAVE THEM BE...

Memorial Day

2010-06-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

After spending Spring Break spring cleaning I was jonesing for a vacay.

Brian took off the Friday before Memorial Day to spend with moi--shopping and going to lunch. (I think my craving for seared scallops has turned into a visceral need).
But no dice.

My plants that I ordered May 1 finally arrived on Thurs. So while delighted they were finally here, we spent the whole of Friday planting. Some of them still look pretty sad, and a few are definitely dying, but on the whole I'm hopeful that by this fall, my front flowerbed will look like a flowerbed, instead of dirt with random smudges that are supposed to be flowers.
Sat. was spent at Costco and the grocery store although we did leave the kids behind and treated ourselves to Costco hot dogs (still, nowhere close to being scallops).

Still, Friday night the whole family went out for Chinese and then we stopped in at Barnes and Nobles. Everyone got a book to kick start summer (although school limps along for another 23 days). Brian urged me to pick something, but I feel too overwhelmed at a bookstore--too many titles, all so delicious, where to start?? Besides, he picked The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Tritan picked a The House of the Scorpion--so there's two books I can't wait to read. Athena picked a book about stenciling--because she would rather learn how to do something than sit and read about other people doing things. And we coerced Apollo into buying a Ready to Read book. What I am really chomping at the bit to read, though, is Paris' pick: Rick Riordan's new book The Red Pyramid. Listen to the first line: "We only have a few hours, so listen carefully." Brilliant.

Luckily, my sister Alyssa decided at the last minute to come up from Richmond and visit her friend Missy and stay with us for a couple of days. Missy dropped Alyssa off on Sunday and stayed for one of Brian's BBQs. Then on Monday, we went to Grounds for Sculpture, which I've wanted to see, and Alyssa was the perfect beard.

Thanks for coming Alyssa! We had so much fun. Vacation itch scratched. Still on the prowl for those scallops....

Field trip

2010-05-26T16:51:00.000-07:00

The best thing about having all the kids in school is that now I can be a room mom and volunteer for field trips without having to worry about sitters. So I was more than happy to go as a chaperon for Apollo's class field trip to Johnson's farm. What a fun way to spend a morning, right?

It started out well enough. Apollo was excited to see me, and I knew all of the other moms. I was in charge of 4 boys--the Sunflower group. We boarded the bus, squeezed in like sardines (three seat belts to a seat!) and made our way to the farm. We planted 4 seeds to start with--bean, sunflower, pumpkin, and corn. Then we got on the tractor for a "hay ride" to pick some produce. In the fall, they always let us pick small pumpkins. This time they handed out strawberry baskets. We were all pretty excited about the prospect of picking strawberries. When the kids told the "farmer" about the strawberries, he deadpanned: "Strawberries? You're picking spinach." The kids looked at us in confusion. We smiled knowingly and shook our heads. Of course we wouldn't be picking spinach; he's just teasing you. But as we drove past the strawberry fields, paying customers looking at us warily, we didn't stop. There must be another field in the back, we reasoned. We passed apple orchards, horses, tractors in various states of disrepair in a shed (flashbacks to Grandpa McKay's farm) and kept driving. Til we were in a spinach field of all places. (Oops, our bad!) Some of the grownups, still in denial (we really wanted strawberries) looked at the weedy patch and told the kids we must be picking some mystery plant and pointed at the weeds. Luckily, the "farmer" set everyone straight and we ended stuffing spinach leaves into our strawberry baskets. To be honest, the kids didn't seem to mind, and tried to stuff as much spinach into their baskets as possible. (Perhaps it's slightly better than the cotton Tritan picked at his farm field trip in kindergarten in VA--at least we could eat spinach).

Then we were admitted into the animal/play area where they could feed animals through tubes and look at them through double fencing.I am sure that is much more humane than most "petting zoos" but the kids soon tired of throwing corn through tubes and went to play on a myriad of tractor tires, rope mazes, bridges, barrel slides. The only problem was that there were 5 kindergarten classes from our school alone, and there were at least 2 other schools in the play area. I only had 4 kids to look after--piece of cake, right? The thing with 5 year olds, they don't get the buddy system, or at least these 4 didn't. But they are confident enough to run around with reckless abandonment, never looking around for reassurance from a familiar adult. I know this because as I'm scanning the playground, I was constantly losing one or the other--(there's Aidan, there's Apollo, where's Alan?, is that Chris?) until finally I did lose one and had to go on a recon mission. I was sure the missing kid would end up with another school, and finally realize he was lost when he was on a bus headed to inner-city Philadelphia. Sure enough, I found him obliviously playing with kids from another school and brought him back to the fold. And then I went back to continuous scanning (there's Alan, where's Apollo?, is that Chris?) I was relieved when it was finally snack time.

As I handed out snacks, I realized I had forgotten Apollo's snack. I had put in a juice box, but that was it. So here is fifty or so kindergartners opening bigger than usual snacks with apples, cheese sticks, crackers and my kid has nothing. Luckily, I packed a meal replacement bar in my bag for me, so he gnawed on that. Satisfied that he wasn't going to starve, and that all we had left was to herd them back on the bus, I turned to the one dad who met us at the farm because he had the day off: "It was nice that you could come," I said, trying to sound friendly.

"Yeah." Pause. "You look a little stressed."

"Yup," I nodded. Great.

Athena's ambition

2010-05-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

Athena in her new outfit

Athena has always had a mind of her own, and a will to get what she wants done. I've always known this about her, from the moment I was surprised by her conception. Once I had abandoned the questions of "how could this happen?" and "what are we going to do?", I immediately got the impression of a little girl who just couldn't wait to join her big brother, and one day I'm going to look into the back story of how she managed to cut in line. She was born with ambition, and I am at turns amazed and delighted by it, since I seem to have very little ambition myself.

Last week she had a performance for her Enrichment Group. Enrichment is a class 5th graders get to choose to go to once a week--they get to choose from health, knitting, art, singing, etc. Her Enrichment Group was Singing, and under the direction of the school music teacher, these 8 girls put on a "Glee"-like show where they each got to sing a contemporary song as a solo and they had one group song at the end with choreography and everything. She was understandably nervous about singing a solo in front of the entire school, and thought that a new outfit was just the thing to boost her confidence. I would have agreed...if I hadn't already spent quite a lot on her already this year on new clothes--surely, one of her newer outfits would suffice. But she spent the next week asking for jobs to do around the house and negotiating how much money they were worth--(cleaning the linen closet--me thinking I was generous: $3, her: "I was thinking more like, $5?"), When she had $8, she found a dress at Target for $14, and convinced me to pay the other $6. She worked so hard for it, I felt like I had to give in.

Singing "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton

Second case in point: She found out that the Talent Show at school was canceled this year. She and her friend Alyssa and her other friend Alyssa have been working since February choreographing and practicing a dance, so they were very disappointed. A lot of her classmates were, too. So she thought, "Well, hey, I'm one of the class presidents, I'll go talk to Mrs. Kennedy (the principal)". So she went down, and very calmly inquired why the talent show was canceled. When she found out it was because the teachers who normally sponsored the talent show were too busy this year (one was on maternity leave, the other is getting married next month) she suggested that she would find two other teachers to sponsor it. And then she went around asking teachers til she found 2 that said yes. (But really, who's going to say no to a kid?). So now the talent show is back on.

Of course, I'm proud of her. I'm just also a little worried about what I'm going to do when she decides she wants her own car, or to go backpacking across Europe...

Answer

2010-05-19T17:34:00.001-07:00

First Time Loosing a Tooth

Riddle

2010-05-18T17:36:00.000-07:00

What can make a kid be reluctant to eat, want to go to bed early, and be eager to go to school? Leave your guesses and I'll post the answer tomorrow.

The kids have been partying...

2010-05-11T17:10:00.000-07:00

This is supposed to be a blog about what the kids do, but they do so much without me now, it's hard to keep track....

There are anomalies in all of the places that we've lived--things I've noticed that are unique to the area we live in but have no logical explanation, aren't really a product of the geography or the genealogy of an area, but are just coincidences: Like, in Alabama there were an unusual amount of red heads. And twins. Here, there seems to only be about a dozen names: Jill, Jessica, Lisa (or Alyssa), Rich, and Steve--seriously, if you don't know someone's name you have a pretty good shot if you just guess one of those. Also, apparently April/May was a popular time to give birth around here--the kids' social calendar has been rife with birthday parties.

Tritan's best friend had a slumber party a couple of weeks ago. They were supposed to see Diary of a Wimpy Kid but at the last minute, the kids all decided they'd rather just goof off (go figure). So they went to the parking lot of the mother's workplace (with no cars in it) and the parents drove around the parking lot fast while the kids hung their heads out the window. (Note to self: Next time the kids beg to see $9 3-D movie, suggest this instead.) They ate pizza and stayed up most of the night. Tritan's not our most social, so despite being a little unorthodox, the party was a huge success. Tritan could even tell us the names of everyone who was there!

(On a side note: Tritan's IEP meeting went really well. All of his teachers said they could see a huge improvement in responsibility and socialization this year. I've noticed it too. Especially this last few months. I'm not sure what caused this new attitude, but maybe it's just him growing up. They are going to mainstream him this next year to classes with 2 teachers, so he won't have any pull-out classes. Tritan said he is a little nervous, but I think he will do great. He is really smart; it's only the social aspect that he has a hard time with, and he's getting better with that all the time.)

Athena had a birthday party the night before Mother's Day and came back sparkling, literally. The mother of the birthday girl did makeovers for the girls, and she had gold eyeliner, pink glitter, and glossy lips. She tried to sleep on her back to preserve it for church, since she had a talk in Primary. I wasn't thrilled with her wearing so much make-up, but see below, I tend to let some things slide.

Apollo is the busiest with appointments at the Pump It Up party place almost weekly. The good thing is, he's old enough now that I don't have to stay with him the entire party. Now if I was only smart enough to buy toys in bulk we wouldn't have to run to Target every week...

Mother's Day

2010-05-10T06:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday someone referred to Mother's Day as a "Card Holiday"--a holiday created to sell cards. Usually I would take great offense to this statement because ever since I became a mom Mothers Day was one of the most important days of the year to me. When you go from working and going to school where you're rewarded with pats on the back, grades, and paychecks, to cleaning up food, poop, and heaven knows what else and get rewarded with more food, vomit, etc. to clean up, it's nice to have one day where everyone takes a moment and tells you how wonderful you are. This year I let the statement slide--but that didn't mean I didn't take full enjoyment of the day. Here are my favorite things about mother's day:

Listening to the primary kids sing "Mother, I Love You" and getting chocolates at church.
Not making dinner--Dad made spaghetti while Athena made fruit salad
Taking a nap while everyone else cleans up dinner
Dad orchestrating "spa day" where the kids rub lotion on my feet and hands
Going to a fireside given by Sister and Elder Holland with Tritan and Bev
Coming home to a Shirley Temple made by Athena

I hope everyone had a Happy Mother's Day. I know I couldn't have made it this year (or any year, actually) without going crazy if I couldn't call my mom every week and have her help me keep things in perspective and empathize with what I'm going through at the moment. Thanks Mom!

Mother tries to know best

2010-05-07T10:59:00.000-07:00

I am not the best mom I know. I am not even close to the kind of mom I want to be. But then, I realize that some (most?) moms probably feel the same way. Still, it's not always easy to know when to put your foot down, and when to let things slide.
Athena had state testing this week, and so she wore slippers to school. Really? Slippers? But I just rolled my eyes and let her go, because, really is that something to fight about?
Paris wore an Ace bandage around his ankle on Monday. Why? " I hurt myself," he said. And when I challenged him, he amended it to, "I have a mosquito bite that I don't want to itch." I suggested he just put a band-aid on it, but he seemed to think a whole Ace bandage would work better. Fine. Whatever.
Of course, then I found out that he was telling everyone at school that he was playing around when some friends of ours were leaving and they accidentally hit his ankle with their car(yes, that would be you Jess). There are some pretty obvious flaws in that story, but he pointed out that when you unwrap it, the bandage leaves an impression that can look like tire marks. Apparently, there have been a lot of accidents in the 4th grade and Paris was feeling left out. We talked about being liked for who you are, and the importance of not lying, and the long and short of it was he didn't wear the bandage again.
Tritan's teacher sent home a PG version of Gladiator for me to preview and (hopefully) give my consent for him to watch it. This is the same teacher who wanted to show a PG-13 version of 300 (that I just said no to). I watched about 45 min. of this movie, and I admit that somehow they made the opening fight scene about as gruesome as a Narnia movie (which was really incredible, seeing how I've read the original fight scene was pretty bad). I'm sure if I had compared the two movies I would have found that most of the blood and guts and sex scenes were edited out, so technically it's a PG movie. Thing is, when a film maker makes an R-rated film, he makes it for adults, not children. So the themes, intensity, and plot are all more than a 12-year-old can handle (I think). For instance, the son of Caesar kills his father when he threatens to hand over the government to Maximus. I don't think a 12-year-old needs to see that, blood or no blood. And then, Maximus escapes execution, and is returning home to see his beloved wife and son, when they show the soldiers riding up to kill the son and wife. Of course, the son runs out to greet the soldiers because he thinks his father is among them, but no, they are there to kill him. OK enough. I turned it off. I can't even handle that kind of sadness. I know I'm a dork, but if I can't handle it, I can guarantee you Tritan won't enjoy it. He doesn't even like it when parents yell in movies.
So I had to say no. Which I'm sure the teacher is rolling her eyes about. And maybe now the whole class won't be able to watch it (because with the 300 movie, if one parent said no, no one got to watch it). I do feel bad since she is trying so hard to make ancient history interesting for 6th graders, and I'm sure she feels she is doing her best to acquiesce to us overprotective moms, but I mean, Maximus isn't even a real person. And historically, Commodus didn't murder his father; he died of the plague and the murder story was made up later to justify overthrowing Commodus later.
Ah, well. I may not serve warm breakfasts or limit computer usage as much as I should, but I am trying. Hopefully, the kids will understand when they're my age (that's why I'm writing it down now).

Who knew we were musical?

2010-04-22T13:22:00.000-07:00

I always joke that there is not much difference between Brian being in town vs. out of town during the week, since he gets home too late even when he's in town to help out with carpools, dinner, etc. But he must do something because he's been gone for the past two weeks, and I'm exhausted.

Paris had a band concert last Wednesday. They played 5 songs and they sounded really good! The good/bad thing is that it's impossible for me to tell which notes are his. And even though we got there early, and were sitting in the second row, a flautist sat in front of him, so all I could see was his elbow, moving back and forth as he worked the slide on his trombone. Still, I could tell he liked to be part of the "band gang"--that feeling in a group that you get as you all feed off each other's adrenaline, waiting and rehearsing for a performance. I think that was the part I liked best about dancing or being in plays. Maybe that's what sports teams feel like too. I kind of hope he will continue. I don't have hardly any musical training (does one semester of piano lessons count?) and I think it's amazing when Paris says something like--"Jack played F, F, F, G; and he was supposed to play F, F, F, C" and then shakes his head like anyone should know that.

After the concert, I realized I didn't know where my keys were. (O.k. one good thing about winter, you are always wearing a coat, and coats usually have pockets). I checked the seats, my purse, everything. I figured they could be in the car still, but that would be bad since I was sure I locked it. And I started wondering if I could cheerlead the kids to walk the mile back to the house to get the spare set. They weren't in the car, but luckily they were at the playground where we played before they opened the doors to the families. I was so relieved, my legs turned to jelly.

That Sunday, Athena sang a song for sacrament meeting with her friend, Lizzie. It was really Sis. Nichols idea, but Athena was happy to go along with it. She hasn't gotten any of the solos she tried out for in her school chorus, and so this was really her first duet/solo. Sis. Nichols worked with them for about 2 hours every other week for at least a month and a half, and then they went over it again an hour before church. They did fantastic! They hit all of their notes, and sang loud and clear. They were amazing! I am so grateful for people like Sis. Nichols who help my kids develop talents when I can't.

Spring Break: home edition

2010-04-14T17:28:00.000-07:00

We had a tough week.

And then we had Spring Break!

For the past two years, we've actually gone somewhere-the Jersey shore, NYC. But this year, Brian took work off and then we...stayed home!Mostly to get projects done around the house. Brian doesn't get home til late most nights and weekends are interupted with soccer, dance lessons, camping trips, etc. So we sorted through the toys, finished painting Athena's room, put her desk together (ah, IKEA, how many hours have we spent reading your wordless manuals and sifting through screws!), cleaned off the deck, halfway opened the pool, and cleaned out closets. It was very productive--mainly because when Brian does something he does it all the way. I had to take the kids to dental appointments to take a break! Still, there are about a 1,000 more things on our to do list...I could use another week.

Friday we went to downtown Philly for a Union pep rally. (The Union is Philly's new professional soccer team; Brian quickly jumped ship from the NY Red Bulls and bought season tickets for the Union). I have heard of the raucous crowds and party in the street for Eagles and Phillies rallies. I knew this would be smaller, but it was actually pretty tiny. Maybe 100 people there. Brian didn't care, he was thrilled. And it didn't stop Paris from unabashedly blowing his soccer horn. Brian bought the kids a shirt they could share (and one for himself, of course), and since our kids were like the only kids there, they got interviewed for numerous radio shows and blog sites, so they liked that.

Athena color cordinated her clothes with Union colors

Saturday was the actual game, and Paris and Brian went. They had a great time, and the Union won. Best of all, the commute time was cut in half (vs. going to NY). When the Union becomes *the* premiere soccer club, Brian and Paris can say they went to their very first home game...

The first home game line-up

The weekend

2010-03-30T10:23:00.000-07:00

This weekend I went to Richmond again to visit my sister and run the Ukrops 10-K. They don't seem to have very many races here (if any) that are not on Sunday, so I take the opportunity to take the train and visit my sister when Richmond has a race. Besides, I love visiting my sister--it's my own private mini-spa, with good food (arugula salad with roasted beets, toasted walnuts, lemon-rosemary chicken, and goat cheese--divine!), a comfy bed, and pep talks.

I wished the family could go with me this time but Athena had a field trip to Philadelphia, and Brian is taking spring break off so we can finally get some projects done around the house. While I'm away, Dad makes the kids work harder than I do, but they also eat almost every meal out (the kitchen always looks exactly the same as when I left, like they didn't even touch it) and get movies and other perks.

Athena with some of her girlfriends in Philly

What's in a name? and more

2010-03-25T17:27:00.000-07:00

When I picked Paris up from band practice this week, he declared that next year he was going to trade his trombone in for a French horn. When I asked him why, he said:

"Because it's French, and I'm part French."

Of course, that makes perfect sense. Brian and I have finally started to do some genealogy work, so I thought maybe Brian had uncovered some roots I hadn't heard about yet.

"How do you know you're French?" I asked.

"'Cause my name is Paris!" (Duh.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apollo really, really doesn't like to be woken up. And he's never excited to go to school. So mornings are touch and go, as we all try to not make Apollo mad and have a total meltdown. Since he has no motivation to do anything, I have to get out his clothes, dress him, find his shoes, pack his lunch, make sure he has his folders, etc. etc. (This hour of the morning is not my favorite).

As we were leaving the other morning, he put on his backpack and demanded, "Is my lunch in here? My snack?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Mommy loves you; she would never send you to school without your lunch and snack!"

Guess what was on the counter when I got back from dropping the kids off?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apollo is eager to earn money for some new toys. And he has been very diligent at getting jobs and completing them. He cleaned the toy room for an hour one day. And when I asked him to sweep the floor, he actually moved the rug and swept under that too (everyone else just cheats and sweeps around it).

One night, he and Athena put on a magic show. His tricks were: "hold out your hand" and he put a couple of drops of water in your hand. Then, "now, wipe them on your shirt. Ta da! The water disappeared!" And, holding out a pile of Bakugun cards, "take a card" so you take the top one; "take a card" "take a card" "take a card" until the cards are all gone. Ta da! The cards are all gone. Yeah, we didn't quite get those tricks.

But Athena (who read a magic book at Grandma Pat's a couple of summers ago) moved a ball back and forth without touching it. Then she had Apollo crawl in a box, say some magic words, and he disappeared! Then with some more magic words, he was back. Very impressive.

Afterwards, Apollo went around with his palms up, asking for money. "Money, anyone, money?" Which reminds me, we've got to get back to NY....

Tofu recipes

2010-03-23T11:59:00.000-07:00

I just got done cleaning out my fridge. Which, needless to say, wasn't pretty. I revisited most of our dinners from yesterday to January. (Some of those January dinners were unrecognizable...)But I did reclaim some much needed tupperware.
This year we are trying to eat more new foods, foods that are in season, and more tofu. By "we" I mean "me" since everyone else would be happy with hot dogs. And by "everyone else" I mostly mean Paris. So far, we've had turnips--blech; raddicho--not a fan; creme freche--can't get enough; salt pork--very good in split pea soup and refried beans; and escarole--pretty good.
I like tofu better than any of the soy products we've tried so far, and Apollo and Athena will even eat it with me--"I like this chicken", Apollo says--which is saying a lot, since he doesn't like most other forms of protein.
My sisters, some of whom eat way more soy than I do--soy milk, soy crumbles, etc.--have asked me how to make it palatable. I have found two ways I like tofu:
1) disguise it so you don't know it's in there. And by disguise, I don't mean substitute it for cream cheese in Spinach and Artichoke Dip because, guess what, tofu doesn't taste anything like cream cheese. Or cottage cheese in lasagna. (Both of which I tried to do, and failed miserably). Just add it to things that are already creamy. Try Lemon-Meringue Surprise Pie or Chocolate Mousse.

2) embrace it. Get extra-firm, water-packed tofu; cut the block in 4-6 slices and lay them out on the counter on top of several paper towels. Put more paper-towels on top and even place a heavy plate or skillet on top and leave it for like 20 min. Several recipes tell you do this technique, and I do it regardless of whether the recipe says to or not: if you end up marinating it, it will take in more marinade, and if you fry it up it will develop a lovely little brown crust.
Try Ma Po Tofu, which has meat mixed in with tofu and a spicy sauce (I really recommend going with the brown rice, since it's nuttiness complements tofu better than white).

Buddah's Delight with Tofu and Broccoli marinates the tofu before putting in a stir-fry with tons of vegetables. It's not the greatest recipe ever, but I swear it cured my head cold.

Zesty Tofu Wraps with Olive Tapenade was the first recipe I ever tried with tofu and it's still one of my favorite.

Tonight we are trying hearts of palm. I'm not even sure what it is. Is it the inside of a palm tree? We'll let you know how it is....

Saturday's thoughts

2010-03-21T13:40:00.000-07:00

This weekend Tritan and Brian went to D.C. to go to the temple. They took some of our family names, so that was kind of neat. Brian had just gotten back from Charolette, and he is always tired when he travels (he doesn't have me to snuggle up to and help him sleep), and they had to leave at 5:30 a.m.--so needless to say, it's a good thing you are promised the protection of angels when you do temple work, since Brian said he knows he must have nodded off a couple of times while driving.
Meanwhile, spring has finally found its way to New Jersey, and it has been beautiful. The kids have been out riding bikes and playing with friends, and I didn't have the heart to rein them in and make them work, so I was left puttering around the house, taking long breaks to sit on the porch to watch the kids play. I suppose it would have been much more efficient to just tackle an outside project, but I just couldn't quite get enough gumption up to tackle that yet.
So, I finished painting Athena's room. She wanted 3 of her walls pink, and one bright green. It took us a few tries to get the green right, but finally Behr's Crisp Apple seemed to do the trick. It still needed about a zillion coats to get the shading right, and in the process I realized that we needed to freshen up the baseboards, doors, and windows, so I guess I still have a ways to go before Athena's room is really done. But it wouldn't be a Wortham makeover project unless it took forever.
Which got me thinking: I love the montage sequences in movies. The one where the hero, after several false starts decides to truly dedicate themselves to some *impossible* change or another, and with some upbeat music and a series of time-elapsing shots we see them change from barely doing a pull-up to becoming a hard body doing 20 pull-ups with one hand; or a clueless nerd transforming to a fashion plate; or even (in Julie and Julia) going from painstakingly slicing an onion to turning out French cuisine. It all seems so simple, and even fun, set to the soundtrack of a funky beat, to become who you really want. When really, of course, change happens glacially slow, and should be set to something more akin to elevator music. Or maybe a funeral dirge.
And here's another (troubling?) thought. Can true change come without 100% focus? When you see those montages on film, they only show the hero working with single minded concentration on their goal. Can you really change your body without thinking about calories and workouts obsessively? Can you really redecorate your house at the pace of an hour a week? And if you want to change more than one thing, where do you find the time and energy? (you never see a montage of someone becoming a hard body, a law student, and a domestic goddess all at the same time). And so (if it's even possible for the same person to be all three) which do you choose first?

Paris gets his vampire tooth removed

2010-03-19T11:49:00.000-07:00

Athena and Paris both have extra teeth in the roof of their mouths. Well, I should say *had*. Athena had hers pulled 6 months ago--easy, peasy, they just yanked it out, and Paris had his out Tuesday. Paris' was a little more complicated since it hadn't broken through the gumline yet, but it was pushing his two front teeth apart so he had a big ol' gap.
They gave him some "sleepy juice"--which all of my other kids have had for either dental work or surgery--just like liquid Valium, to help them relax. But this was a first for Paris and it worked a little too well. About 5 min. after he took it, he started waving at everybody in the waiting room and laughing hysterically. But then he started grunting and trying to get up from the chair. No matter what I said--to lay back, it was ok--he just kept trying to get up, which he clearly could not physically do, so I had to hold him in the chair. It reminded me of when I would try to rock him to sleep and he would fight it so bad, kept squirming around--he never fell asleep in my arms.
Finally, he said he was going to puke, so I sort of carried-walked him into the bathroom, where he started to take off his clothes. Meanwhile, he was so out of it he could hardly stand. I didn't know whether I should laugh, or be worried, or lecture him that This is what could happen if he ever took drugs, so I did all three a little bit. I had to pull up his pants and thanked God that all of my children are healthy and can dress themselves (well, Apollo can,--I didn't say does) and then instantly hoped that I didn't give the universe any bad ideas.
About then, the dentist came to my rescue. They had to carry him to the dental chair. But 5 min. later it was over. He was lying in a recovery room, wailing, when I came in. Which reminded me of when he had night terrors and would just wail no matter what we tried to do to calm him down. After about 5 min., he closed his eyes for a minute, took a breath, and then opened his eyes and asked, "Where am I?" He looked at bloody gauze in his hands, blinked, and asked, sort of disappointed, "it's over?" Turns out he didn't remember anything. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.
He got to stay home from school, drink milkshakes, and watch TV, so all in all, not a bad day. The next day he woke up with a HUGE upper lip, and he took his long, skinny tooth to school (hygienically encased in a plastic envelope) and told everyone it was his vampire tooth.

Apollo: Party Animal

2010-03-18T16:45:00.000-07:00

Apollo loves birthday parties. Like, loves them like School-Girl-Crush loves them. He counts down the days, and asks over and over how many days left, are we there yet, etc. You kinda get the feeling he doesn't really care who the party is even for. So even though another--yes, another--Nor'easter blew through (only this time it was sideways rain, not snow), we couldn't even think of not going to his buddy's birthday party at a Children's Museum.

They had a "Science" class before they played. They made play-doh, and some other stuff. Us parents don't really know since we had all just gone to our mid-year conferences with the teacher last week and we were all comparing where the teacher recommended our kids go next year. Our kids are all in multi-disabled kindergarten and so there are several options: do MDK again, go to a learning disability 1st grade class at another school, or be in pull-out classes. They recommended Apollo be in the LD 1st grade class, mainly because people still have a hard time understanding him and as a result, he is very hesitant to say anything at school, so a smaller class setting would probably be best. I don't want to start him over at another school, though, especially since we aren't even moving, so we'll have to see how the next months of school go.

One of the last things they did before cake was make bottle rockets. They combined alka-seltzer and vinegar in a film canister and then they all sat around it expectantly while it seemed to just sit there, before it suddenly shot up, punching the ceiling before it fell back down. I think Apollo must have stolen some of the alka-seltzer because as soon as we were released into the museum, he never slowed down. When he paused for a second, I tried to take pictures:

Pie, pie, must have pie!

He pretended the fish he was catching were really whales and they were pulling him overboard.

He and his latest girlfriend played for a good half hour in the ball pit that was so deep, they could bury each other and then scare other children by suddenly popping out. They thought this was hilarious (it sort of was).

Up in the "tree house"

Caught in a web

Hello.

This is only about 4" off the ground, and as far as he would go. Apollo is not fond of heights.

He also dressed up as spider-man and tigers and ran incessantly up and down theater steps for a half hour; played hockey complete with body-checks (sorry, anonymous little boy in the green sweater); dunked basketballs; drove cars; produced his own news show; picked fruit; and taped up hurt stuffed animals.

We used to go to these types of museums all the time, but we've only been to an-honest-to-goodness children's museum one other time since Apollo was born. The rest of the time he just has to find the fun at the regular Science Museums and Smithsonians that interest the older kids. I guess that's what sucks about being the youngest by 3 years. Well, I guess we'll have to point this out when the older kids all leave home and we're still taking Apollo on cruises.

When fast food lets you slow down

2010-03-11T17:25:00.000-08:00

The kids have had half days this week for parent/teacher conferences. Somehow it makes the days seem shorter, more hectic. Luckily, the sun has been shining and it's been warm, and the kids have paroled their bikes from their winter's imprisonment.
Each year the Circle of Approved Riding Area has slowly been widening from our cul de sac, to just our block, to the park down the street. This week Paris asked to ride to the neighborhood "beach". It is about .75 miles away, and he has to cross the main road in our neighborhood once. My first impression is to say no, because in my mind's eye, he is laying in the middle of that busy street, bruised, bloodied, broken, but he is 9 and he has been wearing his helmet and you have to trust that a 9-year-old knows how to look both ways, that he understands that cars will kill him, and let him go. At least, his bike is neon green--so that's got to help, right? Do you ever stop holding your breath as a parent?
Especially since breathing was important this week, since every square in my day-timer was filled with the usual plus dentist appointments, babysitting, teacher conferences, etc. and Brian was city-hopping this week. Tuesday night I found myself having to be two places at the same time. The kids were with me as I raced from one engagement to the next. We started at 4:45 and by 7:30, I had left one commitment early to pick up Athena late from dance lessons and we still hadn't eaten.
We swung into Wendy's on the way home. We have drastically reduced our eating out in the last 6 months. Partially to save money. Partially to save calories. Mostly because I read Fast Food Nation and know too much now. But Wendy's has acceptable alternatives, and there was no way I had enough energy to even warm up chicken nuggets at that point.
So we all ordered our favorites and cozied up around a booth. It was late enough that we were the only ones in the dining room. We talked about this and that, but mostly about Full House, which the kids just discovered in reruns on cable, and were amazed that I watched it when I was their age. It was nice to sit down to a warm meal in minutes (and that I didn't have to make) and one where there were no complaints about the food, or bargaining for bites, or even getting up and down for forgotten condiments and milk. I felt like we were in the ending shot of a family dramedy, where the camera focuses in on the family, finally done with their craziness, stealing each others fries and slurping frosties, laughing at stories and oblivious to any onlookers. Then the camera slowly pans out, leaving them alone in their bliss, and the viewer satisfied.

New fads

2010-03-06T11:21:00.001-08:00

Out

(Webkins)

5 Minutes Ago

(Bakugan)

In
(Silly Bandz--you wear them on your wrist, and trade them with your friends, and are a great incentive for practicing the trombone)

Paris gets a driver's license

2010-03-02T17:28:00.001-08:00

This is his liscense.

And this is his car:

It may not have been the fastest, but Paris and Brian had a good time making this. Paris designed it and he named it Tritan, after Tritan and also because Triton is king of the sea, and is green. Yes, he is still very much into Percy Jackson.

My husband went to an S&M pub in London

2010-02-28T17:13:00.000-08:00

If you did a double take at that title, so did I when he told me. Apparently, S&M in the UK is not quite so shocking. S&M is Sausage and Mash--you have your choice of sausage and mashed potatoes. I thought they called that Bangers and Mash, but I suppose B&M sounds even worse.

Brian was in London for about a week. It was a long, hard trip for him and the 5-hour time difference made talking together almost impossible. But he did get to walk around London on the Sunday he arrived.

Here at home, we had ANOTHER Nor'easter, but I guess Spring is coming after all, since despite constant snow and strong winds, the snow didn't stick as much. The kids still milked another early release on Thurs. and a snow-day on Friday. They will probably have to go to school until August to make up for all these snow days but no one was complaining now.

Tritan went on the Klondike this weekend. I've decided Scouting is designed as much to prepare parents as the scouts to send them out into the world. The last thing I wanted to do was to send Tritan out in a Nor'easter on Friday night. But luckily, the leaders changed plans and had them spend the night at a leader's house and drive up to the competition Sat. morning. Tritan said he had a good time, that he especially liked riding on the sled, and eating lunch was his favorite event.

I get bullied by the school nurse

2010-02-26T13:08:00.000-08:00

I am finding it much more interesting to follow other people's blogs at the moment. Their lives, while I'm sure stressful, seems much more blog-worthy as they spend weeks at the hospital, buy houses, bring home babies. I always struggle in February--especially in these cold climates. So much of my life seems tied to the weather. My blogs would probably detail the weather--snowy again--raining today-- still cold and damp. I set my thermostat the highest I can finacially and environmentally handle, although I've been known to bump it up when I just can't stand to be cold any longer. (And lest any of you think I am a martyr--it is normally set at 69* and I've been known to slide it up to 74*).
The longer the winter drags on, the more tired I get--hibernation sounds pretty good. My clothes don't match, but I don't care as long as they're warm--my coat covers up my top half anyway. About the only things I'm still passionate about is food--everything tastes freaking fantastic. No matter how resolutely I start out the day to eat sensibly, heathfully--by lunch time, that split pea soup with fried salt pork and creme fraiche is calling my name.
Thank goodness for rituals. As I sleepwalk across the squares of the calendar---(slowly, oh, too slowly, will it ever be March?) at least I have the alarm to wake me up, my morning ritual of wake-Trita-up-make-his-lunch-check-the-weather-get-him-off-to-school-eat-breakfast-while-watching-the-news-read-scriptures-do-yoga-lay-back-in-bed-for-10-min.-get-the-rest-of-the-kids-up....you get the idea. Over the years, I've developed a ritual for just about everything, which I've always kind of thought of as wierd, but now it gets me through my days in a somewhat productive manner. I just need to incorporate blog-writing in these rituals so it will actually get done.
And although we've had basketball games, pinewood derbys, and fabulous recipes to relate, I'll get to those later and tell about how I once again let someone make me question my parenting skills.
This happens to me all the time, and each time it happens, I swear I'm going to stick to my guns and do what I feel is right, but it's so hard to do, especially when the person you're confronting is a professional. It doesn't help that most of the time I'm fighting for doing less for my children than the professional is proposing--(me: "Shouldn't the kids have more recess? What about nap time, shouldn't all day kindergarteners have a nap?" "I really don't think he needs pull-out classes." "I don't think he needs any more surgeries."). This one was just stupid though.
Tritan pointed out his finger just before he left for the bus-stop. It was puffy and looked like he had a blister on the side of his finger. Once I looked at it, I realized it was an infected hang-nail, put a band-aid on it, and told him we would soak it in Epsom salt when he got home. But at school, a teacher asked him why he had a band-aid, and when Tritan explained about his finger the teacher sent him to the nurse. The nurse had him soak his finger and then called me to tell me that he needed an appointment THAT day to see a dr. asap. "Well, we were going to soak it in--" I was going to say Epsom salt but I was cut off and told he needed an appointment TODAY.
So of course I made an appointment even though there were 100 other things going on. Maybe I didn't know anything after all, maybe he would get MERSA, maybe he already had blood poisoning. Surely, a nurse knows more than I do.
It took us an hour in total (and $85 on our high-deductible plan) to see the dr. so he could tell us to go home and SOAK IT IN EPSOM SALT.

A snowy Valentines

2010-02-18T11:44:00.000-08:00

Snow, snow, snow! We now have small mountains of the stuff where the snowplows shoved it off the road, and onto the median, or the sidewalk, or wherever they could find a spot. The kids use it for sledding hills, snowboarding practice. Still, with those blessed snow days piling up just before Valentines, the holiday itself almost got buried and forgotten.
The kids had school on Friday, although it was only a half day, so they could have their Valentine's parties and exchange cards. After being cozily house-bound for a couple of days, we realized that while we had bread and eggs, we didn't have Valentines. I fished out the old boxes of leftover Valentines from Years Past, and tried to convince the kids to take those, but they weren't into Care Bears, Transformers, or even Hannah Montana anymore. So Brian took them to CVS (his go-to store for everything) and they managed to find suitable Valentines. Still, I will have to say, there was absolutely no pressure for producing the coolest Valentine this year--just bringing any at all seemed good enough.
I was in charge of Apollo's class party. We played a few games and decorated sugar cookies. On the way home, I asked Apollo if he had fun. "A little bit", he said. Then added, "Maybe next time, I can help you come up with more fun."
Brian even managed to make last-minute reservations at our favorite restaurant and replaced my broken sports watch for Valentines. I didn't have a little red bag for him, but don't feel sorry for him: I let him buy season tickets for the Philadelphia Union soccer team this year--that should cover Valentines, Father's Day, birthday....

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

2010-02-16T17:32:00.000-08:00

Of course, we went to The Lightning Thief on Friday. Percy Jackson is as much a hero in our household as he is in the pages of the book. Paris had never read an entire book all the way through before he found Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I had even taken him to the eye doctor to make sure he didn't have the same problems with his eyes that Athena did (convergence insufficiency). But once he found PJ, he stayed up late in the night to finish the books and couldn't wait to read the next one in the series. He was almost as excited to get the final book (The Last Olympian) for Christmas as he was to get his bike.

Once he finished the series he sold the series to anyone who would listen with all the zealous passion of a missionary. He has convinced quite a few kids in his class to read it, and his teacher as well. Everyone in the family(except Apollo) read the first book once they found out a movie was being made--Brian listened to it on his commute when it looked like he wouldn't finish before the release date. He finished reading it the night before we went. Athena and Paris both have started writing "books" based on the Percy Jackson world.

The books are definitely faster paced, funnier, and shorter than the Harry Potter books. Of course, I have always had a soft spot for Greek mythology. The movie is definitely not as true to the books as the Harry Potter movies, and that disappointed Paris a little, but the movie is very good by itself--good storyline, good acting, and only PG.

We had a great time. Thanks for introducing us to Percy Jackson, Paris!

Snow problem

2010-02-10T12:54:00.000-08:00

Yes, we are slowly being buried alive by snow. But I still don't mind. We are experiencing our second Nor'easter in 5 days--the 2 feet we got Saturday hadn't melted before the new storm arrived Tuesday night.

We still had church on Sunday, although only a dozen or so families showed up, so I still had to teach my lesson. But this new storm canceled at least one day of jury duty I was scheduled for and I am crossing my fingers that tomorrow will be canceled as well. See, there is always a silver lining....

Apollo volunteered to shovel the driveway. That lasted for about 10 min.

Paris suggested we tie a rope around Apollo so we wouldn't lose him.

They made it and Left out in the cold

2010-02-05T17:38:00.000-08:00

It is silently snowing outside, and I am thrilled. It is predicted to add up to 12-15" by the time it is all said and done tomorrow, and again I couldn't be happier. I hope it snows and snows and snows and we can't go anywhere or do anything for at least 2 days. (Then it can melt and we can go back to our lives).

At least Brian and Tritan aren't going camping this weekend. They made it through last weekend's freezing temperatures. I was pretty worried about them weathering temperatures in the teens (wind chill in the single digits). Standing outside for a few minutes while they were packing up, my head got so cold I had a headache. How were they going to survive the night? I should have realized my smart husband wasn't going suffer more than he had to: he bought a propane powered heater that is safe enough to go in your tent, handwarmers, and zero temperature sleeping bags. They made it through the night, but retired to the church to do first aid training after breakfast.

So then Sunday, we took 2 different cars to church because Brian had to drop something off on the way. He took Paris and I took the rest of the kids. We were slightly late and so we hustled in, the kids running ahead, me turning around before I went in to lock the car remotely. Tritan sat with the deacons, Athena found an empty pew, and I slid in to situate myself before church began. I slid my bag under the pew in front of me, and shed my coat. The bishop got up to welcome us to church and I started feeling like something was off. He announced the opening song and prayer and the organ started. I got out the hymnal and found the song. That's when it hit me.

"Where's Apollo?" I asked Athena.

She looked at me with a look that clearly said, You are the Mom, you should know. I looked around. He wasn't sitting with Tritan. He wasn't walking solemnly down the hall from the bathroom. Could he still be in the car?

I bolted from the pew and ran to the foyer just to encounter Apollo struggling to open the church door. He stopped when he saw me, and completely broke down.

"You locked me in the car!" he shouted as I scooped him up.

There was nothing I could do but laugh slightly hysterically as I rocked him in the foyer and said a litany of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". Apollo stopped crying to look at me incredulously--really should I be laughing at this?--but it calmed him down and we walked back inside.

He continued to accuse me throughout the meeting--Apollo is not known to let go of a grudge. "I thought I was going to be locked in there forever." "I was all alone." "You left me." I answered with sorrys and reminders: "I came back for you." I'm betting he won't remember that part when he tells the story...

Just my opinion

2010-01-28T17:14:00.000-08:00

With all the award shows going on, I thought I'd put in my 2 cents.
You know I love The Killers, but there is so much good music out there. "Zero""by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs is seriously one of the most perfect rock songs I've ever heard. Meanwhile, anything by David Gray("Fugitive") or Ray LaMontagne ("You are the Best Thing")makes me melt--they are the new Barry White. Camera Obscura released My Maudlin Career in April (try "French Navy" ). A Fine Frenzy released a new album, too, but I still prefer her older stuff (try "You Picked Me" ). Oh, and Neko Case, if you haven't checked out Middle Cyclone yet, do (try "This Tornado Loves You" ). For something different, check out Lykke Li (try "Little Bit"). And right now I am loving "My Delirium" by Ladyhawke.
As for books, I think my favorite books I've read this year have all been either classics or children's books. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen topped the classics, and Neil Gaiman is a master storyteller: I loved Coraline and The Graveyard Book. And we have been reading the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan as a family--that has been a lot of fun.
TV--Mad Men has me totally sucked in. We got the episodes of season 1 and 2 on blockbuster, and DVR'd season 3. We also enjoy Castle for a little murder mystery. Brian loves Modern Family for sit com, but I love The Middle even more. And we both love Better Off Ted.
O.K. enough for my opinions.
Have a good day.

The rest of the story

2010-01-25T16:21:00.000-08:00

You know, on a blog, you really never get the full story. I find myself editing out parts that will sound bad to people who read my blog, and that includes my children. And then there is the complaining you wish you could do, but then it's written down and fully accessible to the world, and it will come back to bite you. So your blog turns into a perpetual Christmas card.

For instance, it was 65* today. But the rest of the story is that it was also raining sideways.

We picked out a color to paint the entry way. But the rest of the story is that we have been working on it since May of last year. We painted the entire entry way one color (Benjamin Moore China Blue), hated it, spent $50 more dollars in sample colors, and finally settled on Benjamin Moore Seafoam. It will probably be another week or two before it actually gets painted.

We also met with an architect today, to discuss moving our laundry room and bathrom into the back room. But the rest of the story is that with each year we stay in Jersey, it becomes exponentially more likely that we will move the next year. So how much money do we really want to invest in this house? At this point, do I even bother to hang the pictures that are still sitting in boxes? Why has it been so hard to organize myself here?

This weekend, Brian is taking the Scouts on an overnighter. But the rest of the story is that it is actually camping. In the woods. Sleeping in tents. I know. Brian camping? In the winter? Willingly? It blows my mind too. I won't tell him what he may not know--that it's predicted to snow Friday night.

Daddy's home

2010-01-21T17:09:00.000-08:00

Brian flew home today after being in Charolette for the week. He walked in just in time to have dinner, so everyone quickly filled him on the week.

Paris mentioned that we played at the park on Monday (MLK Day). It was in the high 40's, and after such a cold winter so far, 40 is the new 70. It felt great.

Athena showed him her braces. It took all day on Tuesday, and though she was a little excited to get them, that soon turned into despair when she realized how much they hurt. Wednesday morning she sat at the breakfast, bereft as she tried to gum oatmeal, sure she would never be able to eat anything chewier than milk-soaked bread again.

Notice the pink, green, yellow bands--Athena always fashionable

Tritan boasted that he made the winning shot in church basketball. That really is a big deal for him. He dribbled and he shot. And it went SWOOSH.

Not to be outdone, Apollo told us he had a new student in his class. And his new friend brought a gun to school. But don't worry it had fake bullets. "No, you can't bring a gun to school." O.K. it was a fake gun. "No, you can't bring toy guns to school, either." O.K. he didn't have a gun. But he does have a tail. Like a dragon. And he comes to school on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. "What about Thursday?" I ask, thinking he forgot Thursday. But no, he doesn't come on Thursdays.

Then Athena gave a very detailed retelling of her latest writing. And Paris showed him how to play G, A, and B on his trombone.

Now it's time for the kids to go to bed. And he's all mine.

Athena's birthday

2010-01-19T10:24:00.000-08:00

Eleven years ago, I had just brought home our Neena, and was getting ready for my mother to come visit and help out.

Of all my birthing experiences, hers was the most organized, and hence, the most enjoyable. I had the same doctor I had with Tritan (whom I loved), and we had her at the same hospital, so I knew what to expect. We had her induced, so we had the convenience of arranging for Tritan to stay with Aunt Lisa, packing everything we needed, and calmly arriving at the hospital ready for the day. It was so calm, in fact, that once we were settled in our room, Brian asked for a cot and a pillow and told me to wake him if I needed anything. So much for excitement!

Labor was pretty unremarkable, too. I had a wonderful nurse, who kept urging me to "just let it out" but I perfered to grunt and hold my breath when the contractions were too painful. By lunchtime, I was distracting myself with Party of Five reruns on TV. Soon after, the doctor broke my water, and the contractions really started coming hard. I'd given up the romantic notion of a "natural birth" with Tritan, so I didn't have any second thoughts about asking for an epidural. It worked wonderfully and the rest of my labor was, yes, actually sort of pleasant. I could feel my belly tighten, and the monitor next to me would show the spikes closer and closer together and I knew that soon we'd have our little girl. When I felt the pressure that means it's time to push, my doctor was in an emergency surgery--another mother had lost her child, and he was doing a DNC. Since I had the epidural, I simply waited for about a half hour, til he could come. When at last the moment came, there was a mirror set up so I could see (the only birth I've actually witnessed), Lisa had arrived with her camera, and Brian was rested and ready to cut the cord. It was beautiful and calm--what a joy to see her enter the world, wriggling and wet and bloody.

Her face was puffy and her head was flattened on one side--the result of sitting in the birthing canal while we waited for the doctor. And she was skinny--so skinny--and so long. I'll have to dig out my journal for her stats (Am I a bad mom that I don't carry their wieght and length around with me in my head? Sometimes I have to count back to make sure I remember the right year they were born!). She was so skinny, her skin wrinkled excessively when she made a face--she looked more like a withered old lady than a newborn baby. No, I wouldn't call her a pretty baby, but I've heard you have to have an ugly period somewhere in your life, and I recall being grateful she was an ugly baby, because she would undoubtly be a beauty the rest of her life.

The year before she was born was one of the hardest years we've had. Brian had finished a MIB, but despite constant interviews, was still in search of a job. He'd taken a job at a call-center to pay the bills, and we'd moved twice in the last 6 months trying to find an acceptable apartment we could afford (our first attempt landed us in the "Roach Motel"). I had a friable cervix with Athena which wasn't anything serious, but just meant I bled a lot with her. And I had what I know now was antepartum depression (but they were just realizing this existed when I had her); I would lose my keys and spend the rest of the day crying. The day I had Athena was one of the happiest of my life. Instantly, my hormones righted themselves, and I knew we would be ok. Brian had started working in Finance at the call-center and he flew to CA for 3 days most weeks. He was a natural at the job and enjoyed it. I loved being a mom of 2. With one child, I always had enough free time that I worried constantly if I shouldn't be working, too. With two children, I was always just busy enough to be happy to be at home with my kids, but not overwhelmed. Our new apartment landed us in a ward called Paradise Lane, which was Paradise for us. There were so many young families starting out, we made quick and lasting friendships. Her birth felt like a new beginning for me.

And I was right about Athena--she has grown into a lovely girl. She has really blossomed this year. She's not afraid to try anything--she took soccer camp this summer, ran for class office, signed Silent Night for the ward Christmas program, and taught herself how to knit and scrapbook. She tries hard to be better all the time. I repriminded her recently for not being grateful, and now I see her try hard to thank us for everything. She is a good example to me for trying new things and always trying to do better.

This year we went to an indoor water park to celebrate her birthday. We spent the day riding down slides, eating pizza, and trying to forget the winter chill. Athena even won herself a stuffed dog at the arcade.

This is how you dress to go to a water park in January.

Riding the waves

Thoughts on the stand

2010-01-12T10:36:00.000-08:00

I had to give a talk this Sunday at church.
The first thing I realize is that I am sweating, even though it is freezing. And I realize Degree used to solve this problem for me, but I bought a different brand, in bulk, at Costco, because I had a coupon, and this brand was not doing the trick. But now I have 4 more sticks of useless deodorant to use up before I can buy Degree. And so I am giving away a "Freebie". You used to wonder where people got products to give away on their blog sites. I think compulsive shopping at Costco has a lot to do with it.
The second thing I realize is that although you are 4 pews away from your family, you can still communicate. One of the announcements was that a boy in our congregation is collecting stuffed animals for his Eagle project. He had a nice little spiel about how your contribution could help some poor little kid feel comfort in a crisis. I looked down at Paris, in the 3rd row, our eyes met, and I cocked my eyebrows at him and nodded my head--this translates to "What to do you think? Isn't that a good idea? Maybe you should look through your stuffed animals..." To which Paris opened his eyes wide and vehemently shook his head--translation: "No way am I giving my toys away." So I smiled and nodded my head--translation: "You are getting too old for stuffed animals anyway, and wouldn't it be a nice thing to do?" More head shaking, more vigorously--translation: "You are making me give away everything that means anything to me. How can you do this to me." So I relented, and mouthed "O. K." --translation: "Fine. We'll talk about this later. Quit shaking like you're having an epileptic fit." But whenever I glanced at him, he was still shaking his head, and his eyes were tearing up. I realized then that maybe he was fighting more with himself than with me. He doesn't want to give up any of his stuffed animals but he knows it would be the right thing to do. We'll see what happens when the Eagle scout puts out the bins for collection.
Does anyone know an Eagle scout collecting deodarant?

Sweet sixteen

2010-01-11T08:08:00.000-08:00

Our marriage turned 16 this Friday. Brian calls it our Sweet Sixteen Anniversary and I think it fits. He puts up with my cranky days without complaint, and I think I've mellowed out a bit over the years. The last time we had a really big fight the kids thought we were going to get a divorce. I decided that was actually a good sign: we fight so little nowadays that the kids think it's a momentous event. We made up for that fight by going out to dinner at Pizzicato, which is now our new favorite restaurant and where we spent last Friday night. It's great being 16 years into your marriage--the kids are old enough to watch themselves, we find each other hilarious (we may be the only ones who do), and we still think the other is good looking (again, we may be the only ones who do--Brian's growing a full beard, and in his black wool coat I made him buy this winter, he looks hot).

He had to fly to Charolette that day, early in the morning, fire someone, than turn around and fly back. What a way to spend your anniversary! But he managed to stop off and bring home a dozen white roses, anyway. If that isn't sweet, I don't know what is! Happy anniversary--I love you.

This was the Christmas that...

2010-01-07T10:08:00.000-08:00

Blizzard 2009 struck. It wasn't a blizzard the way I'd imagined it (and yes, my imagination was helped along with Little House on the Prairie scenes with blinding snow, and people getting lost and freezing to death). The snow just fell quietly and steadily for about 24 hours. It wasn't windy, and it wasn't even as cold as it is now, and the flakes were perfect, just like snow-globe confetti--it even glittered in the glow of the Christmas lights, and the kids played all day in it--snow-ball fights, sledding, tunneling. We had at least 18" but it drifted as high as 3 feet in some places. It took most of the next day to shovel out, church was canceled, and the kids had Monday as a snow-day.

We went to the Rusch's for Christmas Eve. We had a great time getting to know our neighbors better, and ate good food, and heard great stories.

The kids let us sleep until 8!

We may inadvertantly started an epic battle by getting Paul a light saber and Paris a Nerf sword.

We helped brotherly love along by having the kids exchange gifts. We tried to help them think of gifts that would help eachother develop talents: Paris got Tritan some drawing supplies, Apollo gave Athena scrapbooking supplies, Athena got Paris the sword and a book on Greek mythology, and Tritan gave Apollo some books they could read together and a dinosaur.

Santa hid Paris' bike in the garage and he didn't find it until after all the presents were opened. To his credit, he was very thankful for all of his stuff, even if he didn't get what he really wanted. When we found the bike, it became the best Christmas ever.

We ate Sticky Buns, eggs with cream cheese, and o.j.; watched The Christmas Story and stayed in our pajamas all day.

Tritan won a contest for dubbing on You-Tube. Perhaps all that time on the computer will start paying off....If only he could win cash prizes....

I had more fun than the kids putting together their Lego drawbridge.

We spent Christmas break painting doors and trim. When we tried to paint the entry way, I freaked out about the color, so now it is half-painted and I still am trying to decide what to do.

We ate at PF Changs at 4pm on New Years Eve to beat the crowd.

We spent New Years Eve at another neighborhood party, but came home to watch the ball drop. The kids were allowed to stay up as late as they wanted. Tritan claimed not to have gone to bed at all. The rest were up til 4:30am. We are still getting back on schedule.

Choir concert; Santa visit

2009-12-15T11:31:00.000-08:00

Paris and Athena performed at their school's choir concert. If you look closely, you can see Paris by the microphone saying his speaking part. (Yes, I need a better camera. We looked at some better ones at Costco, but it was time consuming, and I suddenly realized that we had been in Costco for 2 hours--which meant (1) we were spending too much money and (2) we needed to get home and pick up Paris, who was playing at a friends. We let Paris take the cell phone with him to his friends' and I called on the way to let him know we'd be picking him up soon. When he didn't answer I was slightly annoyed. Turns out, he didn't answer because he had accidently dropped the cell phone in the toilet, and it was no longer working--why, oh, why didn't we buy insurance for their phone?!--But Brian salvaged it by putting the phone in a bag of rice--it draws all the water out--who knew?) Anyway, it was a nice little concert, and Paris and Athena did a great job. Athena sang with the descant(sp?) group (they sang the song in a higher key). Just as an aside--apparently, it's PC to sing songs about Hannukah--but not ANY songs that have to do with the birth of Christ, just sleigh bells and Christmas shopping.

On Saturday, we went to Camden and saw Santa. Yes, Camden. I know that that can be a scary part of town, but Tritan was doing a youth service project at the branch building in Camden--he helped out in one of the craft rooms and so we took Paulie and the rest there. It beats the mall, anyhow. They had a nice set-up with crafts, Santa, and breakfast.

How to be the best Mom...

2009-12-07T19:40:00.000-08:00

It's a week into December and the kids are wondering when the Christmas tree is going to go up. So you unload it from the box and put it half-way up, just to whet their appetite. They ask, "When are we going to finish putting up the tree?" while you are sweeping the kitchen floor. "I don't know," you reply. " I need to mop this floor. Do you see these drops of chocolate milk, and the spots under the counter? Someone has to mop this up." Suddenly, you have volunteers to mop the floor. Calmly finish making dinner while they mop.

"When are we going to put up the tree?" they ask while you switch over the laundry. "I don't know. I have to finish this laundry." Suddenly, you have volunteers to fold the laundry. Take this moment to clean up dinner.

"When are we going to put up the tree?" they ask, as you lie on the couch, hands over your eyes. "I don't know. I'm so tired--I was up late while you went to a church party." Suddenly, they are very quiet for a blessed half hour.

So you get up and you finish putting up the tree an hour and a half before their bedtime. You call them in and they come in running, as excited as if it is Christmas morning. You pull out the ornaments, and they put them on. You ask them why they think there are lights on the tree, and they say "It's like hope." "It's like all the families in the world." "To keep you warm." and you say "That's a great idea" each time. You ask them what they think Mrs. Claus does while Santa is delivering toys and they say, "She sits in a chair and waits", "She makes hot cocoa for him to come home to", and "She makes out with the elves." Then you find a Santa hat and Paris goes upstairs and Santa comes back downstairs, and tells you that the tree looks good.

They ask why we aren't drinking egg nog like we always do when we decorate the tree and you remind them that we don't even have milk in the house since their father is working out of town over the weekend and he is the designated errand-runner, especially when it is freezing and raining/snowing out (the sky couldn't make up his mind). And the kids will all assure you that no egg nog is needed.

At last, the angel is put on top the tree, ornament density is rearranged, and the tree is proclaimed Finished. Now all the kids will hug you and tell you that you are the Best Mom Ever. And Thank You So Much for the tree.

I Love Christmas.

Dad learns a lesson from Huckleberry Finn

2009-12-03T07:43:00.000-08:00

Why is it there are some chores, like hanging Christmas lights and cleaning gutters, strapped to the roof with a rope--or putting together IKEA furniture that the kids will do willingly, excitedly--and others like taking out the trash or unloading the dishwasher that I have to practically beg them to do?

Now we are 6!

2009-12-02T11:50:00.000-08:00

I can't believe Apollo is 6. He is madly eating vegetables lately in an effort to outgrow Paris--and I have to say I think it may be working. He is a good 4 inches taller than last year. He wants to be tall so badly, to be big ("Only 3 more birthdays til I'm 10"--creative counting, so he can be older than Paris too). I feel guilty sometimes because I am secretly glad he is still light enough and small enough to carry downstairs in the morning, and lift him off the ground in a bear hug when he comes barreling out of the bus at the end of the day. It's not that I want a baby--oh, heavens, no--it's just that I always knew he was our last, and I want to savor every last drop.

When I had Apollo, 3 years after Paris, I had every intention of rocking him to sleep by the window, gazing down at the street, watching the other children play in the yard. For some reason, I thought 3 years was an eternity between kids--perhaps because the other 3 were all 18 months apart--and I thought I would have all the time in the world to bask in his baby goodness. But I forgot about preschool schedules, and half-day kindergarten, and ballet lessons, and soccer practices, and poor Apollo was rocked to sleep by the car everyday, not by me. Add YW President into the equation and it was Daddy, not me, that took care of him most nights.

Still, my blue-eyed boy, you are loved and cherished

for a face that can write a book with one look

for the quiet perseverance of coloring a page, background and all

for your hugs and your kisses

and yes, even your tears and your growls,

for your insistence for laughter and games,

for eating your vegetables with relish,

for sleeping without blankets,

and hating underwear,

for hiding cereal

and sneaking fruit snacks,

for your passion for parties,

and your ability to hold a grudge.

From the streak of blond in your hair,

to your ears, just a little too big,

to blue eyes and bright smiles,

to your tiny hands tucked into mine,

to your lightning fast legs riddled with bruises,

to your tiniest toes--

I breathe you in,

and taste marshmallows and sunshine.

Happy birthday, Apollo.

Thanks Grandma Pat!

Thanks Aunt Alyssa!

Thanks Grandma Linda!

When is Thanksgiving not Turkey-Day?

2009-11-29T17:24:00.001-08:00

When it's BBQ chicken day!

We decided to forgo the traditional turkey on account of me not being motivated to come up with a traditional menu, and Brian traveling so often to South Carolina and reawakening his BBQ-tooth (sort of like a sweet tooth, but involving more meat.) He brought back some sauce, and we fired up the grill. We still had a ton of food--scalloped potatoes, beans, salad, mac and cheese, and broccoli--and we still invited friends to share the feast. I still made pumpkin pie, and Tritan carried on his tradition of eating (almost) the whole thing. I made oatmeal cake, too, in honor of Apollo's birthday weekend, and we are still grateful for all of our friends and family.

What I missed

2009-11-16T18:17:00.000-08:00

This weekend was an eventful, active weekend. I went to Richmond, VA on the train (fun way to travel--it was like a step back in time--no security, open seating, conductors with actual conductor caps, comfortable seating, and a cafe car) to visit my sister and run in the Richmond Half-Marathon. Brian took care of making sure the kids made it soccer and ballet. Paris had his soccer tournament. One game came down to penalty kicks--which they won--very exciting. He had two more games that day. Apollo had his last game and they had their trophy ceremony.

Big brother

2009-11-12T10:44:00.000-08:00

I love this picture. My dad took it when he was visiting us in Alabama. This is the day after Tritan got baptized. He is in his new white shirt, holding his new scriptures, the first one out the door, ready to go to church. The other two boys are right behind him, watching to see what Tritan will do, and ready to follow.

I love this picture because without a word, it shows Tritan's quiet strength, his resolve to do what is right, and to be an example even when he is all alone. Yet as he looks back, he sees his siblings right behind him, following and supporting him.

This weekend Tritan's homework was to create a cereal box that was all about astronauts. They had to come up with a cereal and then make bullet points on the back summarizing facts about the astronaut, and educational games to play while eating your cereal. Like I said, this school district is very creative. Tritan worked on it diligently all weekend long. At the end of the weekend, Tritan's masterpiece was complete, but I also noticed two other "cereal boxes" on the table.

Athena and Apollo thought Tritan's homework looked like so much fun, they decided to make their own cereal boxes. Why would they do their own version of someone else's homework? OK the idea itself is pretty neat, but it's also because Tritan just does his homework, without whining or a whole lot of nagging. He tries his best, and he always puts his own little spin on it--so it looks more like fun than homework.

This weekend was also the Primary program, where the kids sing and have speaking parts. I remember how excited I was when Tritan was finally old enough to participate. It seemed like it took forever for him to go from birth to Sunbeams. Now, he's 12, and too old to participate. It seems like time flew from Sunbeams to YM. But he gave his first sacrament talk a couple of weeks ago and he passes the sacrament every Sunday. I see him up there at the sacrament table, still a little nervous even after all these weeks, still a little unsure. I see him squirm in his seat during testimony meeting, wanting to go up, but not wanting to, too--and how the "wanting to" part of him almost always wins out. And then I see the rest of the kids singing and saying their parts for the Primary program. Athena wrote out her one minute talk, and said parts for kids that were absent. Paris sings expressively and Apollo stretches up tall so we can see him and tries so hard to follow along. Each of them is different. Each of them puts their own spin on their big brother's example. But there is no doubt in my mind that they are watching his quiet example, watching to see what he will do, and ready to follow.

Thankful

2009-11-06T05:42:00.000-08:00

Well, it is November, the month of thanks, after all. So here are just a couple of things I'm thankful for:

Teachers With 4 kids in school since the age of 4, and one of them in 6th grade now, we've had our fair share of teachers. Some of them were fine, some didn't quite mesh with our kids, and one was just not great. But more than a few were really amazingly terrific. We lucked out this year--we have some really superb teachers. They come up with innovative ways to teach and let the kids show what they learn (Tritan doesn't even have books for science and social studies--his tests can be written tests, presentations, or projects; Apollo learns letters by writing, shaping clay, painting with shaving cream); they modify things so that my kids can preform their best (like letting Paris stand in the back when he gets to fidgety at his desk); they put their arms (literally) around my kids when they are having a hard time and talk to them about what's wrong and how to handle it. I have a hard time not losing it at parent teacher conferences as I realize that these teachers care about my kids almost as much as I do, and are helping them be all they can be.

The kids take after their father. I was driving Athena home from dance the other day and asked her how it went. She proceeded to tell me all of the times the teacher told her she was preforming a step especially well and that their class as a whole did one step better than the more advanced girls. I couldn't help smiling as I realized Athena almost always reports all of the compliments she receives, and very rarely any of the criticisms (which I know she gets as well). Brian is like that. He will come home from work and tell me of all the pats on the back he gets, all of the recognition--though I also know he gets plenty of scolding and blame as well. They both just focus on the good, and build on it. I was a dancer growing up and I took every criticism to heart, internalized it and nursed it, til I was sure I'd never get anything right. I know I did things well--I vaguely recall being complimented on my petite-allegro work--but I always dismissed that. What good was petite-allegro when my turns weren't sharp, and my butt stuck out? To this day I have nightmares of my dance teacher telling me I wasn't good enough. You could demonize my teacher for making me feel that way, but I think it was me that turned her into a monster, spouting out my own internal insecurities. How grateful I am that for the most part the kids take after Brian's way of thinking. Because they are all amazing kids. (BTW--I think I'm pretty amazing most of the time now, too.)

Athena's political career begins

2009-11-02T17:53:00.000-08:00

World domination begins! O.K. maybe just Mrs. Stepp's 5th grade class. Athena was voted class president today. They had primaries, speeches, and debates. Her platform includes having crazy hair day, having a volleyball tournament against the teachers, and having a board game day. She worked really hard, and we are all so proud of her!

Candy, anyone?

2009-11-01T17:46:00.000-08:00

25 pounds! That's how much candy the kiddies collected yesterday. 25 pounds! We know this because Brian suggested they all weigh their loot to see who collected the most (that would be Paris at 8.5 pounds). Don't ask me what we are going to do with all of it. The sight of it makes my teeth hurt. Last year, I ended up throwing it out after a month or so. But that seems ungrateful. Still, no matter where I put it, in food storage, in the freezer, you know I'm going to root it out on those frustrating days.

Halloween

2009-10-31T15:24:00.000-07:00

The little monsters are out trick or treating. I am the designated Candy-Giver-Outer, a job I don't mind in the least. Brian offered to let me be the Trick or Treat chaperone, but I quickly pointed out to him and the kids that it wouldn't really be fair for me to go Trick or Treating with them when I get to do so many other things with them during the Halloween season. Like make sure they all have a costume--including going to several craft stores in search of something that would look like panda ears and a panda tail and then giving up and pilfering through the past costumes the night before the Halloween parade at school to find some semblence of a costume for our youngest.

I mean, would it be right to go Trick or Treating with them and leave Brian home when I am the one who got to string 200+ donuts for the Family Fun Night at school, and then got to take all four of them to FFN by myself while poor Brian was stuck in Chicago eating out with guys from work?

And let's not forget that I got to organize the room party for Apollo's kindergarden class, including driving to 3 farm stands to find the right size pumpkins for them to decorate, come up with games, and host the party.

I mean, it's just not fair for me to have all the fun. I'll sit here in the quiet, boring house, handing out the occasional treat, and let Brian have the fun of running from house to house to house-- (they are determined to fill up a whole pillowcase, at least). After all, sharing is what marriage is all about. Love ya, honey!

Tritan is an Astronaunt Businessman

(his variation on Space Cowboy)

Athena--the only way she could be a devil

Paris is the grim reaper

Apollo was a good sport and went as Flash, even though he really wanted to be a panda bear.

Trying to grab donuts hanging from a string at FFN.

Decorating pumpkins at FFN. Those are Mr. Potato Head pieces. Isn't that a good idea?

Invest in ear plugs

2009-10-21T16:09:00.000-07:00

If you happen by our house in the afternoon, it might sound like we are strangling Canadian geese. And while I have thought about it, especially when they poop on the running trails and refuse to move as you run by, I assure you there is no "fowl" play--(oh, I crack myself up).

It is only Paris, at long last blasting away on his blasted trombone. He was one of the last kids at school to get his instrument. Apparently, the rental company thought the demand for music lessons would be down with the economy tanked and all that. What they fail to realize is that music lessons through the school is one of the cheapest extra curricular activites there is. Everyday Paris would come home, crushed, as if his heart was just broken, or his pet had just died. No trombone today. He would be on the verge of tears. And everyday they would tell him, tomorrow. But tomorrow would come and he would drag in, frustrated and dejected, trombone-less.

Finally it arrived and I am trying to be very strict with the 20 min. daily practice. Although he only knows enough to do a scale. So he practices his scale for a good 5 min. and then alternates between blasting the horn, and trying to beat box on the trombone, until he gets tired of that and spends the rest of the time cleaning out his spit.

Still, watching him shoulder that shiny brass instrument, his arms barely long enough to operate the slide, his little cheeks puffing in and out--I can't help but think he'll make a great musician someday, though there's very little evidence at present. We'll keep you posted.

New family tradtion

2009-10-18T16:54:00.000-07:00

When Paris scored his goal, the rest of the kids were home, doing homework and avoiding the chill of the night. So Brian rounded the kids up and they created a Victory Bridge for him to walk under when he got home. Apollo scored the next Saturday at his game. Tritan was at a service project, Paris was at the 100 year celebration of Scouts, and I was running Athena to dance, so only Brian was there to witness it. So that night, we rounded everyone up again, and did another Victory Bridge for him. Then Tritan got his Second Class in Scouts at a Court of Honor, so we did it once again. Brian is the best for coming up with these small gestures that are easy to do but mean so much to the kids.

The Scouts showing off the Squirrel Song they learned at camp.

How we wake up

2009-10-14T07:50:00.001-07:00

The alarm goes off at 6:09, but I lay in bed until it goes off at 6:15, collecting my thoughts, and gearing up for the day. Who just jumps out of bed the first time the alarm goes off? Brian usually turns off the alarm and rolls over while I get out of bed. He will usually lay there for a good half hour more. I would resent him for this if he didn't have to regularly wake at 4am to catch flights. Then I feel completely justified in rolling over while he gets ready to travel.
I wake Tritan carefully. He always jumps out of bed in full flight mode, as if I've just told him there is a fire or aliens are after him. He immediately exits the room and goes downstairs to make himself breakfast--which consists of 4 waffles or 4 packets of oatmeal (that kid can eat!). I am usually still sitting on his bed, a little dazed by his hasty exit and fighting not to lay down in his warm bed and go back to sleep.
I make his lunch while he eats and then send him on his way by 6:55.
I eat breakfast, usually while watching the news, and then spend some time reading scriptures or church magazines. I do a few yoga stretches and then I am finally awake enough to face the Tyrant.
I wake Athena first, who usually blinks with wide eyes, like she's not quite sure who I am or why I am there. As the realization hits that she has to get up, she rolls over and scrunches under her covers. Then I wake Paris, who usually just gets up, rubs his eyes, and puts on his robe (since he sleeps exclusively in boxers) and heads down to breakfast.
Finally, I must wake the Tyrant. He requires a good deal of shaking and prodding before he will even stir. Then he will complain that his eyes won't open. Forcing him out of bed is a huge mistake, so cuddling him or helping him stretch his arms and legs is a good alternative. Usually getting him out of bed will require actually carrying him downstairs. "Will I have to carry you when you are 16?" I always ask. "I'm not 16. I'm 5." He tells me. By the time we have made it downstairs, the others are already eating cereal.
Heaven forbid if you have just finished off the cereal the Tyrant was going to eat. Or are just pouring a bowl. Or if you are just looking at the box. The Tyrant hates to share. He usually finds something he is not happy about--the bowl is wrong, the spoon has something on it, why can't he have sugar on Frosted Flakes? But he finally digs in when I remind him that the bus won't wait, and it is almost time to go, and he will just have to go hungry.
About this time he will shout in an accusing tone: "I feel horrible", like I am responsible for this sudden illness. I always suggest he eat something and see how he feels; so he does, and he always feels better.
The Tyrant refuses to dress himself and usually hates what you've picked out for him to wear. But left to his own devices he will dress himself in shorts on a 42* day or wear the same clothes from yesterday.
Somehow the kids make it to the car by 8:35 (by somehow, I mean some shouting, some cajoling, and in some cases carrying) and we fly to the bus stop. There, the kids get out to play with the rest of the neighborhood kids. The Tyrant is soon giggling and racing around.
When the bus arrives, he doesn't even wave good bye.

Paris scores!

2009-10-06T06:26:00.000-07:00

Last night Paris scored his first goal of the season! He is so exciting to watch play now. It makes up for the years of watching "the herd" run after the ball. It is exciting to watch the kids develop their talents. Paris is a great play-maker--he can take the ball and get it downfield, and then pass it to someone who is open so they can score. It's a great talent, but the person who scores usually gets the kudos, so it was nice that he had his turn.

P.S. Tritan is writing a blog now--Final Oblivion on the list to the right. Check it out if you want.

Family update

2009-09-27T17:44:00.000-07:00

Good things:

Tritan has done so well handling middle school, that I requested that he be go from the pull-out classes to an inclusion class. The guidance counslor agreed, and he'll get switched this week. He was mostly put in the pull out classes because he has a hard time with large classes and the noises there but it seems to be bothering him less. His academics are strong, so I am glad to see him be more challenged.

Paris signed up for trombone for band. I think he will do really well. Trombone players are rare in the school district, so the band teacher was excited he wanted to play it. I don't know if Paris really knew what a trombone was when he signed up for it, but he can trade it in if he hates it.

Tritan went on his first overnight camp trip as a Scout. He came home covered in dirt but he said he had fun. There was a little mix-up getting him home--communication break down--and we didn't know where he was for a bit. It prompted us to give in and buy another line for our cell phones. Our kids are just going in too many directions. I can't believe we are doing this! But they are very excited about having their own line. We told them it is only for emergencies, but I don't think they take that seriously.

The bad:

The kids have been sick for 2-3 weeks now. It seems to have finally passed, but not without leaving mayhem in its wake. Tritan seems to have gotten a sinus infection and he can't hear worth beans. I feel like I'm talking to a 90-year old. I don't know how he is doing so well at school. We got some antibiotics so hopefully it will help. Paris, on the other hand, is constantly tired. He came home from school one day and immediately went to sleep and didn't wake up til the next day. Every day he takes a nap, and still goes to bed at bedtime. If he doesn't wake up by tomorrow, I'm taking him in to the dr. too. Ironic, really, since when they were both "sick" (fever, cough) they acted perfectly normal.

Tritan got cut from the midle school choir. When I asked the choir director about it, he said Tritan's voice was too high. I was really dissappointed since getting Tritan interested in something is not easy. Hopefully, he can find another club or activity that interests him.

Kings

2009-09-24T08:07:00.001-07:00

What do you do when your kids pass around a 7-day virus that keeps them out of school for days? Play cards!

Grandma Linda and Grandpa Bob reintroduced us to the joy of card playing. We used to play a lot more before we had toddlers who would grab the cards and chew on them and preschoolers who would get into them and lose all of the face cards. But now, all of the kids can play one game or another and it's a good way to be together as a family or one-on-one with the kids. We try to emphasize logic and math skills, as well as good sportsmanship--but really we're just having fun.

Apollo's favorite game is Kings. Here's how you play:

Deal 4 cards to each player. There can be as many players as you want, but only about 3 players/deck. After that you need to add at least one suit for every added player. (No jokers).

Each player places his cards singly, in a square in front of you, with any 2 face up, and any 2 face down. No one knows what is under the faced down cards.

The rest of the cards are placed in the middle, the first one turned over (the start of the discard pile). Starting with the player to dealer's left, each player either takes a card from the deck or the last card in the discard pile; he can either exchange any of his cards with the drawn card, or simply add it to the discard pile. Face-down cards can be exchanged, but the new card must be placed faced-down as well. The point is to get the lowest score. Aces are low, Kings are zero, and all other face cards are 10. So the point is to get as many kings, aces, and low cards as you can.

The game ends by either running out of cards in the draw pile, or if a player thinks they have the lowest score, they can Knock (literally knocking the table with your fist). They do this instead of drawing a card. Then each remaining player gets to draw one last time. Score is taken by turning all of the cards over and adding up your score. Lowest score wins. If you Knock, and you are not the lowest (or if you tie) you must add all of the players scores together and add it to your own. If you Knock, and you are the lowest, you take the score of that hand and subtract it from your over all score. (Like if you knocked and your hand was 5 points, and you won, you'd add a -5 to your score). If there is a lot of people (4 or more) playing we usually play so that everyone deals twice and call it a game. If only 2 people are playing we usually play 5 hands.

If we are playing with the kids, we don't keep score for consecutive hands. Instead, Brian and the kids came up with this tiered system:

Hand 1--start as equals; winner is declared the winner

Hand 2--If winner from hand 1 wins again they are Top Dog

Hand 3--If Top Dog wins again, loser is a Wimpy Chiauau

Hand 4--If Top Dog wins again, loser is a Scared Kitty Cat

Hand 5--If Top Dog wins again, loser is a Blind Mouse

Hand 6--If Top Dog wins again, loser is a Dust Bunny (Paris came up with this)

The loser can win and work himself back up the chain, but the Top Dog is Top Dog until the loser has worked himself back up and then beaten Top Dog twice.

No, we don't play too much here.

BTW, Apollo is very good at his victory dance if he makes it to Top Dog. He stands up on his chair and wiggles his hips and then wags his behind in your facewhile singing/saying "Oooh,yeah. I won. Oooh, yeah." Thank you sports players for teaching my son this skill.

Of course, this is only when he feels cocky. At other times, he will throw the game for you. Somehow that is more humiliating than if you had just lost to him. (He is surprisingly good at this game).

Sick?

2009-09-16T09:43:00.001-07:00

This week, the kids have been home sick. Sick being a fever of exactly 100*. Sometimes 101*. But they aren't tired, aren't achey, don't have a sore throat. According to the numerous notices I've gotten from the school, they shouldn't be allowed to go to school til their fever is less than 100* without medication. So, they are at home playing wii and eating hot dogs. I guess I should be glad that they aren't sicker. But then I take Apollo's temperature, and it flashes red (meaning higher than 99.5*) and he sticks his arms up in the air like a champion, "I'm sick! Yay!"

The perils of being alone

2009-09-11T06:57:00.000-07:00

So now all of my kids are in school all day.
"What are you going to do with yourself all day?" everyone asks.
What am I going to do? What am I going to do? I have had a child at home with me for 12 years. It's not to say I won't be totally lonely without them, but my mind goes wild with the possibilities of shopping, excercising, visiting,--cleaning, even--and how I'll get so much more done without having to conjole another soul to go with me.
Although, in this first week, I have to say that apparently they didn't slow me down much. I don't seem to get much more done with them gone than I did with them here.
But anyway, in light of this new-found freedom, I decided to take my fitness to the next level. This involved a more intense upper body workout than I had done previously. Which meant that the next day, it hurt when I tried to open up the pickle jar. Or pull a sharp turn with the driver's wheel. Or raise my arms above my head.
Then I went running. Boy was it great to go running outside anytime I want between 9 and 2. What freedom! Then I got home and tried to take off my sports bra. It was wet and sticky and as I tried to twist my arms to get it off, I found that my sore arms no longer worked that way. I tried again, and this time managed to pull the bra up around my face. But no further. Now I couldn't get it up or down, the bra is over my face, and my arms are up in the air. And there is no one to call to help pull it off. I thought about having my kids find me there, shirtless, with a stinky sweaty mass around my head, passed out from the effort of holding my hands in the air for hours and it gave me a sort of adreneline rush and I finally freed myself. But it was a close call.
I tell you, being home alone does have its disadvantages.

First Day of School

2009-09-08T07:46:00.000-07:00

Today was the big day. We spent the proceeding week getting in last minute dr.'s appointments (Athena had her extra tooth pulled, easy as pie, with some gas and local--no surgery-yay; Apollo went to the ENT and everything still looks good--even had another hearing test and everything checked out), back to school shopping, and organizing their rooms (I just took everything out of Paris and Apollo's except for a few clothes and their shoes. We'll see what I let them put back in.) We eeked out the last bits of summer with a picnic in the park, a BBQ, and some ice cream and then packed them up and sent them off this morning.

I admit I was emotional yesterday thinking of sending my oldest to middle school and my youngest to all-day kindergarten. I can't believe they are so old already. Tritan has been sick most of last week and I was intent on making him better before the first day. I really didn't want him to miss the first day of school. I was afraid it would put him behind before he got started. We called our home teacher to come help give a blessing last night so I am hoping all goes well.

Athena was up at 6am, a whole hour and a half before she had to be up. She picked out her clothes a week ago and painted her nails last night. The boys, on the other hand, put on whatever was within reach and I had to send a few of them back again to change. (Paris, for one, did pick his clothes out last night. He really can be stylin' when he wants to).

Apollo was cranky all morning and admitted he was feeling "funny". He has been so excited to start school, counting down the days since last April, but now that it is finally upon us he was pretty nervous to go. Thank goodness he has an older brother and sister who can help watch out for him.

Make it do

2009-09-04T13:25:00.001-07:00

You know that old adage:

Use it up;

Wear it out;

Make it do;

Or do without.

Well, my kids have learned to make it do.

Paris has a collection of pewter landmarks: the Eiffel tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Liberty Bell, the Empire State Building, etc. Well, there wasn't any Teardrop Memorial souvenirs, so he made his own with cardboard and tape. (Unfortunately, it looked a lot more like cardboard and tape than the Teardrop Memorial and Mom threw it away when she Clean Sweep-ed his room).

Athena has wanted a sewing box all summer. But that didn't get done this year so she improvised with an old pencil box and some cardboard.

And then there was the cell phone. They have wanted a cell phone for a while now and it doesn't help that most of their friends have one already. They have made cell phones out of cardboard and paper before, but Paris hit the jack pot when he found one of Brian's old cell phones, and then found the charger. Never mind that it doesn't have a SIM card. They hit ring tones when they want to hear it ring. They play the sample game up to Level 2 (which is as high as you can get without downloading the whole game). They write messages to each other and pretend to text their friends. Mostly they just carry it around and annoy me by hitting ring tone after ring tone. I told them that driving me crazy with a non-working cell phone is not the best strategy for getting a working one, but I think they know there's a slim chance for getting one either way so they just shrug and hit the "Hello Mortal" ring-tone again.

What we did on our Summer Vacation

2009-09-02T06:53:00.000-07:00

Grandma Linda and Grandpa Bob came from Idaho for a 10-day whirlwind of activity. Sometimes I feel let down when summer comes to an end, because despite my best efforts, we didn't get to do half of what I wanted to do. But now I think I can send the kids to school without any regrets. For those of you who are considering next year's vacation, just think, all of these outings were day trips from our house (hint, hint).

Trip #1: Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, Betsy Ross House, Carousel at Franklin Park

Trip #2 : Boardwalk at Ocean City and dip in the ocean at Brigntine Beach:

Trip #3: Lighthouse at Cape May

Trip #4: Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Teardrop Memorial (The Teardrop Memorial was a gift given to America in 2005 by the Russians to memorialize 9/11. It is a beautiful memorial, but not many people know about it. There aren't even any signs to it. But they are re-doing the pier it sits on, so I'm sure it will become a hot tourist spot in the future.)

Trip #5: Sesame Place

Trip #6: Valley Forge

Trip #7: Downtown Philly and the Art Museum. We ran up the steps, just like Rocky!

We had a lot of fun. Thanks for coming to visit, Linda and Bob!

Tritan's 12!

2009-08-23T15:27:00.001-07:00

Tritan turned 12 this week. Was it really 12 years ago that he was a new-born infant, and I was a new mom struggling to nurse, nervous about his jaundice, and yet so proud of my little man. I never liked to babysit much but with Tritan, I felt like his mom right away. Bathing him, rocking him, burping him, felt like I'd been doing it for a thousand years. That's not to say I didn't have my struggles: I had to learn what his cries meant, learn what calmed him, learn how much to feed him and when. For the first time in my life, my sole responsibility was taking care of him. I wasn't in school, I wasn't working, and it was a struggle to know how I should be spending my time. What do you do with an infant that sleeps the better part of a day only to wake to eat and then sleep again? But we figured it out. While being a stay-at-home mom has not always been easy, being a mom is the best.

Here are some things that I love about Tritan:

He has always been a good eater. When he was a toddler in AZ, he would salsa right out of the bowl! Now he gulps down half a pizza, a quarter-pound cheeseburger, or bowl of spaghetti without a problem. He loves soup: Italian Wedding Soup, Chili, or Clam Chowder are particular favorites. He loves Cheesestakes, too (we are in S. Jersey!)

He is really good at figuring out technology. He loves to spend time on the computer and can even design his own games. His school teachers say if they ever need help with their computer programs they just go to Tritan instead of tech-help.

He is an imaginative artist. He has a unique style of drawing and loves to draw comic-books. But I also think he has a great eye for colors and what goes well together.

He is a great helper and very obedient. He usually comes running when I call him. He is a good example for his younger brothers and sister.

He is very funny. He loves to take colloquial sayings and make them literal. He loves Calvin and Hobbes.
In Alabama, he ran a kid's marathon, one mile at a time. I took him to the track with me on Sat. mornings sometimes and we'd run a lap or two together. I enjoyed running with him and the conversations we would have.

Now he is 12, going to middle school, and getting the Priesthood. A friend at church said, "I always cringe when the kids graduate from primary; they're not safe anymore." She has older kids, and so maybe she knows something I don't, but I think he's going to do great. Sure, I'm nervous about sending him to middle school, but there are so many more opportunities for him. We had a rough time with him when we moved here 2 years ago--I think he feels comfortable and confident now and he'll only get happier and more accomplished as the years go on.

We went to an all-you-can eat buffet for his birthday and today he graduated from Primary, received his Faith in God award, and received the Priesthood. It was great to have Grandma Linda and Grandpa Bob here for it. I hope he knows how proud of him we are!

Back to school

2009-08-19T07:32:00.001-07:00

There is nothing that makes you want to send your kids back to school like back-to-school shopping.
They are so excited to go shopping for notebooks and pencils that you think surely taking 4 kids to Target will be a piece of cake. But each kid has a different list and each list is in a different format, so that when you are standing in the midst of the Back-to-School promo center, kiosks full of pencils and protractors (protractors, why are there protractors, nobody needs protractors, where are the erasable pens?!), kids jumping around you "What do I need? What do I need? What do I need?" you can barely keep your thoughts straight.
"You need a 3 2-pocket folders"
"I need 3 folders?"
"No, that was Athena. You need 5."
"O.K. Here's 7 folders."
"No, you only needed 3."
"Oh." 5 minutes pass as they try to figure out which 4 to put back.
"Here's some book socks."
"We don't need book socks. We got them already, remember?"
"What do I need?" Apollo asks this every 3 seconds although all he needs is one folder, baby wipes (in a different section of the store) and a smock.
"Don't you already have a pencil pouch?"
"I don't remember where I put it." Should I buy a new one now, or go home, spend 20 min. trying to find last years pencil pouch, and in all likelihood have to come back and buy another? In goes another pencil pouch.
After 30 min. or so of mayhem, we have a cart full of school supplies but are still missing composition books (really, Target, no composition books?), a particular Casio calculator, plus a 2-subject notebook (really, teachers, 2-subject? note to teachers: notebooks commonly come in 1 subject, 3-subject, and 5-subject. Manufacturers are obviously wary of even numbers.)
So then we have to go to Staples. Which does not make back to school shopping *easy*. The kiosks of supplies are set so close together, you can't maneuver a cart through, and though they have 14 different kinds of composition books, the regular 2-pocket folders are hidden on the bottom of the furthest shelf. (Turns out Athena needed 7 after all.)
Now the kids are bored of this and are twirling in the office chairs while I try to instruct them to pick out soft-covered binders. It takes 3 times to get their attention.
Like a treasure hunt that has gone on too long, we haul our loot to the van listlessly.
We run into the grocery store to grab dinner items--kids stepping on each other's heels and yelling too loudly. We run into a neighbor (with out her kids).
"How're we doing today?" she sings brightly.
"We're ready for the kids to go back to school." I say tiredly.
"Really? I just love having the kids home. I hate sending them back in the fall."
I grind my teeth and smile.

Saltine days

2009-08-18T08:47:00.000-07:00

Saltines. They are not fancy, but they are like the perfect food.. You put them in your mouth and the saltiness perks up your taste buds. They have a satisfying crunch until it turns into comforting creaminess and just before you swallow, they taste almost sweet. Sure, there are better foods out there--fancy, special occasion food that you crave all year long. But what do you have in your 72 hour kit? They go with everything, they're inexpensive, and you can eat them when you can't stomach anything else. I practically lived on them when I was pregnant, and then again when we were starving students--saltines can stretch hamburger like nothing else.

There are days that I call saltine days. They are just ordinary days that nothing much happens, but everything just seems to flow and there is a balance between productivity and fun and everybody seems to be happy all at the same time; these are my saltine days. The past few weekends have been full of saltine days. Maybe it's because I can feel the angst and bustle of school right around the corner. Maybe it's because with one kid on the way to middle school, I know the years of hanging out in family bliss is at a precipice, if only because once they are in YM/YW they are insanely busy. Or maybe I've just come to appreciate these common ordinary days together.

Saturday I took my long run in the morning and came home to Brian and the kids finishing up the lawn work. Tritan had finally figured out the key to enjoying mowing (having a large, cold water bottle handy before you begin) and had not only done a great job, but didn't whine or complain once. Paris had fertilized the lawn and Athena was doing the dishes inside.

Once everyone had showered and changed we went to lunch at Five Guys--a compromise between the fast-food cravings of the masses and a mom who just read Fast Food Nation. Not that anyone was complaining about eating at Five Guys. The kids told Brian what they wanted and then 2 went to save a big table for the six of us, while two more squirted ketchup into those little cups. Is it admirable or scary that my kids have well-rehearsed jobs for eating out?

We talked about Tritan's birthday which is on the 19th. We explained to him that we have so much money for his birthday...he could either do something big and get smaller presents, or do something small and get larger presents, etc. Perhaps we botched that one up because he decided what he really wanted (despite spending every moment allowed playing and creating video games) was books and underwear (despite having a Gameboy, Wii games, and video-game creation software on his list) and that he would like to eat a restaurant (despite having arcades and amusement parks in the mix). We tried to explain it again, but he was pretty adamant about getting books and underwear so we went to Barnes and Nobles after lunch.

I have to admit that I could spend all my birthday allowance at BN too. There is something about a book store for me that is akin to going to an amusement park. There are so many slick, shiny books. All of them displayed with intriguing covers and dust jackets that promise this thriller will titillate you, this memoir will inspire you, this self-help book will change your life! My pulse quickens and it's almost too much--I want to sit down right there and just read my way through the stacks--but where to begin?? Luckily, my kids love to peruse the stacks too, and they each found books soon enough and started flipping through them while Apollo was overjoyed to find the Thomas the Train railroad set completely unoccupied.

Brian imprudently observed earlier that morning that we had just paid off our van. Never say that sort of stuff out loud. Never. The universe does not like to see you make your goals. I don't know why, but you say things like that and boggarts and gremlins come out of the woodwork to make your life miserable. Just saying.

So of course, throughout the day, Brian has observed that the car is not turning over nicely and so while we are in BN he takes it to NTB to get the battery tested. Sure enough, it needs a new battery. Yet, despite the small set back, it couldn't have gone better. Brian discovered the problem before we were stranded somewhere, we had the extra money since we're done making van payments, and NTB is right down the road from BN, and where better to spend an extra hour or so waiting for car work to be done?

Tritan ended up getting 3 books (and I got 1) and then we went grocery shopping at Wegmens. Which if you don't have a Publix, is a pretty good second. I gathered the produce and the kids typed in the codes and printed out the scannable stickers for the produce. The kids tasted cheese while I perused the international aisles. No one was in a hurry and everybody helped. We danced in the aisles to the muzak. They asked for organic limeade and I said sure. They asked for Danimals yogurt and I said sure. I threw in store baked mini cookies without them even asking. It was like a well-organized pas de six.

Saltine days. I hope we have a seven-year supply.

2009-08-13T06:43:00.000-07:00

Last week was cub scout camp. I was roped into going all week last year and enjoyed it so much I volunteered for the whole week this year. Tritan had computer camp and Athena and Apollo were able to come with me. Athena participated in camp as part of a Girls Group, and they get to do everything the Cubs do--shoot bbs, archery, crafts, swimming. Apollo goes to the Tot Lot where they do games, crafts, and swimming.
This year the theme was Knights, Castles, and Dragons. They had a blast making shields and tunics, learning how to "sword" fight with rolled up paper swords, meeting greyhound dogs and stately steeds. They get to go swimming every day (sometimes twice a day if it's hot) and somehow still get in knot-tying, bbs, archery, and first-aid.
Once, when I was taking off my hat to go swimming, I asked Paris if my hair looked ok, and Paris replied, "Yeah, Mom, you never embarass me." Words to cherish.

playing games

petting rescued greyhounds

part of our "den"

Apollo got to dress up too!

learning how to fight like a knight

riding a "dragon"

Chatty T

2009-08-11T17:42:00.000-07:00

Tritan is usually the shy one in our house, but he's becoming quite chatty lately. On Saturday, we were shopping at Bed, Bath and Beyond, and Athena noticed that her favorite store (Justice)was next door, could she please, please look around? We let her go with Tritan with strict orders to stay together. We turned up a few minutes later to find Athena salivating over high-tops and arm socks. Tritan, on the other hand, was telling everyone who looked their way: " I don't want to be here. She dragged me here."

Tritan also went to his computer camp this last week. He looks forward to it all year, and mows the lawn without complaining (most of the time) to help pay for it. It is held at Ryder University in Princeton, so he just rides back and forth with Dad. Brian *had* to go to a Depeche Mode concert with his boss (worst boss of all time) on Monday so he wouldn't be able to drive him home. I was with the other kids at Cub Scout camp (more on that later), and was going to have to drive up to Princeton after camp to get Tritan (not horribly excited about that). Brian's co-worker Anne happens to live in our development, and offered to drive Tritan home (so nice). Apparently he talked her ear off the entire way home. One of the tidbits she related to Brian was Tritan's scheme to get more computer time: "When it's Paris' turn to use the computer, I just go turn on the TV to a show I know he likes, and pretty soon he starts watching the TV and the computer is free! More computer time for me!"

The computer camp was great--he learned how to manipulate characters and change textures. Yeah, we don't really understand it all either but Tritan had a great time and made some new friends.

BTW--Brian said the Depeche Mode concert rocked! There were a few more breaks (because, let's face it, they're old) but the music was great and it was a terrific show. It must be horrible to work for a boss you can rock out with!!

Getting to the pointe

2009-08-02T17:25:00.001-07:00

Some of you wanted to know whether Athena chose to do soccer or dance this fall. Does this answer your question?

She is taking dance one night a week this summer and her teacher suggested she buy pointe shoes now, since it can take a couple of trys to find the right pair. Then she will be all ready to go this fall. This happened just before soccer camp, so I'm not sure it was a fair trial, but she is way excited to dance on pointe. But she did say she wanted to do soccer camp next summer,too. We'll have to see.

Girls Night Out

2009-07-30T16:13:00.000-07:00

Notice anything new with Athena?
O.k. besides the bangs in her face. (She's a tween, what can I do?)
Yes, she has her ears pierced!
Last weekend, Brian took the boys to a Riversharks game (baseball) and so it was just me and Athena. She had Girls Night Out all planned.
We went to the local mall and shopped at Justice. She spends a good part of each day "shopping" on line and putting together outfits so she knew just what she wanted. They were having a huge sale so I thought we might as well do some back-to-school shopping. I about fell over when Athena *had* to have black skinny jeans. This is the same girl that won't wear anything but lycra and elastic bands because jeans are "too restricting". Apparently, Selena Gomez (from the Disney Channel) wears them, so now jeans, and skinny ones at that, are o.k. I'm not ready for teenagers!
Then we had dinner at the food court and then headed to Claire's to get her ears pierced. After 2 years of waffling back and forth, her money savings and courage level finally coincided. She was still pretty nervous, but they put the piercing chair right by the walk-way --whether to provide entertainment to passers-by or to encourage the participant to not scream and cry, I'm not sure, but probably a combination of both. I had to sign and initial like 3 forms; which kind of made me feel like maybe they knew what they were doing.
Athena knew it would hurt but I think she was hoping it wouldn't really. After the first ear was done, she grabbed my hand--hers were cold and clammy. But it was over before she knew it, and the left ear stopped hurting right away. The right ear still tingled an hour later, and Athena who had poured over the fine print, worried that it might still hurt in 24 hours, and she would have to take out her earrings. She's a worrier, our Nina. I told her we'd see how it felt in the morning and luckily, they didn't hurt at all!
She picked out her birthstone (garnets) for her earrings. I think they look beautiful. She'll get to buy new ones right about when school starts--so I imagine she'll start a wish list on-line soon enough.
BTW--the boys enjoyed the baseball game, though what they liked most was being able to run the bases afterwards. Brian's comments consisted mostly of how much better soccer games are vs. baseball games, especially if you are taking kids. (A soccer game is only 90 min., you can explain the game easily(except for offsides) and there is a lot more action.)

Just for kicks

2009-07-26T18:09:00.000-07:00

Athena and Paris just wrapped up a week of soccer camp. Paris is an old pro--he went last year, as well as playing in the fall with the rec team. Athena always wanted to play soccer, but with dance, I just couldn't agree to driving and paying for both. So I let her take a week soccer camp so she could get a taste for it. As much as I love having a dancer in the family, I would hate for her to think that that is her only option. We borrowed shoes and guards from a friend, and she borrowed shorts from her brother. It was so cute, the first day, they were talking in the car--Paris saying "I'm glad Athena's coming to camp with me. It'll be great showing her around" and Athena saying, "I'm glad Paris is there. I would be so nervous if he wasn't." Warms a poor mother's heart.
Anyway, they had a good time, though they had to play in the rain one day and got sopping wet, and muddy--(I think that was their favorite day).

Setting the Table

2009-07-18T16:23:00.000-07:00

What do you think about when you set the table? I admit I haven't really set the table in several years, that being one of the first chores relegated to our "dwarfs". However, I will say I find housework in general to be repetitious and monotonous. I find myself playing games like lets see how many dishes we can load in 15 min. or I bet I can sweep the kitchen before this song quits playing on Pandora. Sometimes I load dishes from left to right, other times from right to left. Other times I let mind wander while I do the same chore for the 1,000,000,000th time writing a new blog, or an imaginary letter, or I call my sisters to take my mind off of what I'm doing--yes, that's why you all get calls at about the same time every day. Otherwise I think I might go insane, feeling like Sisyphus rolling that big rock up the hill over and over.
However. I do not think I felt like that when I was a kid. Setting the table, or any chore for that matter, was simply an unpleasant interruption to my business of being a kid. That's not to say I didn't occasionally use the chore as an opportunity to expand my playing...I could be a poor orphan ordered to set the table for the rest of the unfortunates; I could be a giant and the sauce I was asked to stir was a cauldron; I could be lost in the forest and the meal I set out were things I had scavenged from the wilderness. Anyway, that's what I vaguely remember.
Do not ask me what my kids are thinking when they are setting the table. Apparently, on July 4, Paris was thinking, I wonder what will happen when I dial 911. In between clearing the table of the mail and other miscellaneous items and getting the plates down, he decided to dial 911, and then push the end button, because he did know that you shouldn't call 911 unless there is an emergency.
Two minutes later (Paris had just counted out 6 plates), an emergency operator called and asked if everything was alright. I thought for sure she had the wrong number. I looked around. Apollo was outside, Tritan was on the computer, Athena was watching TV, Paris was setting the table--who could have called 911? The operator told me I had to talk to the policemen outside and tell them everything was ok. Policemen? What policemen? I looked outside--no car. Surely, this lady was mistaken; she had the wrong house, the wrong number--what was she talking about? But sure enough, they had parked just behind the bushes in front of our house-- I guess not to alarm any would-be attackers into a panic killing spree, and were just then approaching our house with a wary caution.
I apologized profusely. Paris followed me outside, still holding the plates, looking slightly curious and not in the least bit guilty. I tried to surmise how Apollo could have called from our house and still be 4 houses down playing with a neighbor. I wondered if Tritan had somehow hacked into the emergency response system without knowing it and tripped a call button or something. I never once suspected Paris holding the plates as his perfect alibi.
The officers took my name, my number, and my birthday. I'm not sure why they needed all that information but he was young and cute, so I complied and apologized again.
Paris eventually copped to calling, though he was amazed that the call went through. "I hit the red button!" So that mystery was solved, but I still want to know why anyone would call 911--even for pretend--in the middle of setting the table. When I asked him, he replied "I don't know!"

Trip to Palmyra and Niagra

2009-07-14T18:27:00.000-07:00

What I love: Road trips. Especially now that the kids are older. I actually like that they have no access to computer or TV and have to come up with other means to entertain themselves. Tritan reads his Calvin and Hobbs comic books out loud to the entire car, and does the voices and expressions so well, we don't need to see pictures to get the jokes. He can entertain the entire car for an hour or so.

What I love: Red Robin. There was one in Rochester where we had a hotel for the first 3 nights. We ate there the night we arrived. They need to expand to South Jersey...

What I love: Vacationing as a family. It was really neat to visit the Church history sites as a family. We saw the Hill Cumorah, the Smith farm, the Sacred Grove, and the Grandin Printing Press where the Book of Mormon was printed. Athena had some really great spiritual moments and got to be one of the sister missionary's companions and bear her testimony. Paris enjoyed being the go-to guy for answering questions. And Tritan enjoyed the Sacred Grove. I'm glad Mom and Dad planned this trip; I would've thought the kids would be bored with all the historical stuff, but they really enjoyed it.

Hill Cumorah

Smith home

The Smith frame home

Sacred Grove

Grandin Printing Press--Athena being a "companion"

What I hate: When people prey on others. Mom and Dad's rental car was broken into and their camera and GPS was stolen at the restaurant we ate at Wednesday. It was frustrating to have that happen on vacation, and I feel bad for Mom and Dad. They were able to get a new rental car on Thurs. but their insurance didn't cover the stuff that was stolen.

The theives shattered the window and took the good stuff

What I love: Hotel pools. Hotels are magic for kids, and hotels with pools are the icing on the cake. We had some down time on Thurs. between visiting the Martin Harris home and the Whitmer farm in Fayette and going to the pageant that night so a-hotel-swimming we a-went.

What I hate: Hotel pools. When the ambient air is only slightly warmer than the air-conditioned lobby and yet the pool is only 70*. Everyone freezes.

What I hate: When your kid gets hurt. Apollo got his finger caught in the back of the van door as we were unloading at the pageant, and it quickly plumped to the size of a large purple grape. We saw an EMT truck so we took him there, just to make sure it wasn't broken. They gave him the all-clear, gave him an ice bag and a stuffed kitten, and Apollo was able to muster a smile.

What I love: The pageant. It is amazing to think that they pull this off year after year with volunteers and a couple of days rehersal. It was so well done, and the spirit was strong. It was really amazing.

What I love: Tours. We saw the American side of Niagra Falls on Friday. We signed up for a tour which was great, since we got to see all of the sites, and have someone else drive us around. We saw the dams which take half of the falls' water, rode the Maid of the Mist(a boat that goes right by the falls) , and touched the Bridal Veil on Hurrincane Harbor (our favorite attraction on either side). We grabbed dinner at the the casino and then watched the fireworks.

On Maid of the Mist

American Falls and Bridal Veil with Niagra in the background

Mom and Dad at Hurricane Harbor

What I hate: Having to have a passport to go to Canada. What the deal, eh? I stood in line all day on Monday at the Philadelphia Customs House, paid double for the cost of a passport, and then they didn't even stamp it when we passed into Canada!! On Sat., Mom and Dad went on to Ohio to see the sites in Kirtland, and we went to the Canadian side of Niagra Falls.

What I love: Seeing the falls from every possible angle. The Canadian side does have a better view, and the illumination at night shows up much better on that side.

The Falls from the Canadian side

Illumination on the Canadian side

What I hate: Not planning well enough. We paid twice for parking, and walked 1 1/2 miles just to learn that the attraction we wanted, the White Water Walk, was actually 9 miles away, so we ended up taking a taxi. The White Water Walk was wonderful though. (notice the allteration).

What I hate: Kitsch tourist traps. While the American side was a little depressed, the Canadian side was sort of garish. Every store was either a theme restaurant, tacky souvenior store, wax museum or thrill ride. I felt like I was bleeding money.

What I love: Coming home after vacation. I actually miss cooking dinner and grocery shopping.

Save the Poison Control Center!

2009-06-28T16:58:00.000-07:00

So, school is out for summer. We had a rather uneventful week, to my great relief. It was nice to have a week to unwind from the crecendo of preformances, tests, school parties, etc. We got onto a sort-of summer schedule, and it is was actually sunny a better part of each day (It has been a record-breaking streak of rainy days here in NJ lately).
Part of this schedule includes a chore schedule for the kids. No more free passes for them. What is the point of having kids if they can't help out a little, right? For the most part it has been great--laundry is actually getting done, the bathroom downstairs is presentable most of the time, and the dishes have even been completely done at some point during each day. All of this comes with its own price of course. Clothes are not folded like I'd like, Paris sprays every room he cleans with copious amounts of Lysol spray, and then there was the the dishwasher incident. Can you believe it happened again? Yes, another one of my children, which shall remain nameless (TRITAN), used dishwashing soap in the dishwasher instead of dishwasher detergent. I was in the middle of trying to cook dinner, when the bubbles started. This was day 3 of having the kids all day, and Brian, of course, was out of town this week. Let's just say I wasn't happy. But I swear, the thought of killing my kids never entered my mind.
However, later that night, that is just what I almost did.
It was finally 9pm and I could legally put the kids to bed. Dinner had been later than usual (gee, I wonder why) and the kitchen was still a mess (though the floors were again spotless). After prayers, it was vitamin and Zyrtec time. I couldn't find the Zyrtec dosing cup (though I didn't look all that hard--I was tired and wanted to send the kids to bed as quickly as possible), so I pulled out my measuring spoons and doled out the allergy juice.
Fast forward to midnight. After catching up on So You Think You Can Dance (I have to rewind and watch each dance at least twice before I can responsibly vote for my favorite dancers), I cleaned up the kitchen, and then fell into bed. I was exhausted but suddenly I was wide awake. In my mind, I could see the measuring spoons I had just cleaned up and it suddenly hit me that I had given Tritan and Athena 2 Tablespoons of Zyrtec, not 2 teaspoons. I ran into their rooms and checked to see that they were still breathing. Relieved that they were not dead already, I raced downstairs to check the bottle. Maybe, just maybe, it called for tablespoons? Crap. Nope--teapoons, and a warning to call poison control center right away if over dosed. I took a deep breath, and I'll admit, tried to rationalize not calling. No one likes admitting to poisoning their own children. They were alive, Tritan had even woken up (rather startled) when I bent over him to make sure he was still breathing. But I called, and May at the Poison Control Center was very nice. She did ask me 3 times if I had given them the medicine or if they had gotten it themselves, seemingly amazed that a mother could be so distracted. But luckily, she thought they would be O.K., I just needed to wake them periodically throughout the night to be sure.
So I woke them before I went to bed (at 1am), then again at 4am, and again at 6:30. Luckily, they were fine and ironically Athena complained about her allergies the next day.
May from Poison Control Center called the next morning to make sure the kids were fine. I have to say I find this service so useful: I have had to call them more than once in my life. The kids have eaten Desitin (twice) and once I found Paris with an open bottle of kids vitamins. They have always been prompt, helpful, and non-judgemental. My sister said that CA is considering not continuing the PCC service and that if they don't several other states may follow suit. I hope not. Apparently I need them!!

Just the facts, ma'am

2009-06-24T17:10:00.000-07:00

Master Apollo graduated from preschool June 12, 2009. He will be attending the all-day kindergarden class next year, giving him ample time to learn his ABC's while continuing his speech therapy.

Two days after officially turning 9, Paris Wortham received his Wolf badge in Cub Scouts.

Athena Wortham performed in the Rice Elementary Talent Show the day before school got out. "It was fun," she said in a post-performance interview. "But now I'm glad that's over with."

Tritan, Athena, and Paris were promoted to their successive grades. Their parents expressed pride and some relief. Tritan will be going to Middle School in the Fall. Their parents feel old.