keri is so very...

CORRESPONDING

2012-01-29T09:50:00.003-07:00

Dear Mom and Dad,
Another two weeks, gone! Perhaps this is my new M. O. for blog posting? Perhaps not. We'll all just have to wait and see.
I have no excuse, other than being overcome by the natural man, and just not writing. We've actually been doing lots of fun things around here. So I could have shared that Michael took me to see The Four Tops and The Temptations in concert. It was sooooooooooooooo awesome (yes, I did just write soooooooooooooo, just like I tell my third graders not to do...). Michael said that the best part of the concert was watching me. I guess I was giggling like a school girl and smiling from ear to ear the whole time. I don't doubt it. I do know that I was up singing, dancing, clapping, and cheering almost the whole time. Who can sit during songs like "Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch" and "The Way You Do the Things You Do"? I'm pretty sure that I was ridiculous. Truly, though, it was an amazing concert: amazing to see original members of each group perform, amazing to see their choreography (especially The Temptations, who were in complete sync their entire performance), amazing to hear their lyrics and harmonies, and amazing to be up, out of my seat, singing and dancing along with them. What a great night.
I cannot say the same for the performance of "South Pacific" that we saw the week previous. The company was great, though (shout out to Lindsay and Dave). Well, it was great once we actually got to see Lindsay and Dave. You see, we bought season tickets with Lindsay and Dave to the Broadway Across America series. We thought it would be wonderfully fun to double date with them and see all these shows. But, the first show (Blue Man Group), Lindsay and Dave bowed out because of baby Ben. Lindsay gave us her two tickets and we took Lane and Joshua, who absolutely LOVED the show. They were thoroughly entertained. And it was a super show, at least the parts I stayed awake for were (see, there's that natural man again). Thanks, Lindsay! We all think you're awesome!
Anyway, we were supposed to be sitting next to Lindsay and Dave for the showing of "South Pacific," but Michael's dad had thrown away and/or shredded our tickets to the shows (another story, another day) and when we had the tickets reprinted, both sets of tickets were printed for the same two seats. For whatever reason, Lindsay and Dave were not too thrilled with the idea of having Michael and me sit on their laps, so we ended up sitting somewhere else for the first act, and then moving next to them for the second act when many seats opened up because people left at intermission. Yeah, it was that good. I mean, I guess you could call it good if you didn't expect to see choreography in the musical numbers (I think the director was going for "South Pacific" the drama that happens to have music, rather than "South Pacific" the musical that happens to be dramatic), or if you didn't expect the singers to hit all their notes well (classic moments in the show RUINED!), or it might have been a really good show if you were expecting to see nude men running out of the shower shacks. Ummmmmm.....okay. Not your "Hale Centre Theater" production of "South Pacific," that's for sure!
Speaking of the south pacific, let me just end today's ramblings by recommending a book that deals a little bit with WWII in the south pacific. It's called "Unbroken" and what it is, is un-boring.
Well, parents, I'm off to church to try and learn how to ward off (no pun intended...get it? "Ward" off? Ha!) the natural man a little more. And then perhaps, just perhaps, I may write a bit more frequently. Maybe.
Love you for sure, forever.
Keri

CORRESPONDING

2012-01-08T22:30:00.003-07:00

Dear Mom and Dad,
I know I missed two weeks of writing, but really I have a good excuse: Christmas and New Years. And I did think of what I might write about (and still might, given the right alignment of the universe) the whole time, so that's got to count for something, right?
For example, I knew I would want to tell you about how Lane made us answer Bible trivia questions correctly (he got a deck of scripture trivia cards in his stocking, a perfect gift to answer his request for things to prepare for his mission) before we could open up a present. I would definitely want to tell you that I got to open up a whole lot of presents before Michael did--Ha! I would also want to tell you about the question that asked how many loaves of bread and how many fishes Jesus had to feed the 5,000. I said, "Seven and three," and someone else said, "Eight," and someone else said, "I don't know," and someone else agreed with my answer of seven fish. Then Lane read the correct answer, which was "Five loaves and two fish," to which Joshua promptly replied, "Wow. Jesus is even more amazing than we thought!"
I would then tell you that my children entertain me immensely.
Then, if I were to go on an tell you about our New Year's celebration, I might mention to you about our trip to St. George, sans Lane, who wanted to spend New Year's Eve with a girl, and not with us. I might tell you how perfect the weather was, and how neat it was to watch fireworks dot the valley below us as the clock struck midnight. I would probably throw in a story or two about Lane NOT getting to ring in the New Year with a girl, since the girl he wanted to spend it with was picked up by her dad, just ten minutes before midnight.
So, someday I might share all that. Someday I might even tell you about our first week back to school and work. Some of it has been hard and some of it has been really wonderful. Remind me to tell you about wonderfully answered prayers.
Yes, there is certainly a lot to tell you. I'd better go to bed now to get the strength to do that, sometime!
Good night. Good hugs and loves, too.
Keri

CORRESPONDING

2011-12-19T00:18:00.002-07:00

Dear Mom and Dad,

There I was, sitting on a noisy school bus, on our way to a field trip to the Natural History Museum, when I got my wake up call of the season.

I was half listening to the hub-bub around me, but mostly had my mind focused on my still-to-do-but-not-enough-time-to-do-it list. I was feeling frustrated: angry that I was the one who had to do all the shopping, water the Christmas tree (not to mention already having to buy the tree and decorate the tree!), wrap the presents I hadn't had time to buy yet, clean the house, get the goodies for a party we were invited to, etc, etc.--and apparently I was supposed to do it all without spending any money! Just before smoke started coming out my ears, a little hand tapped my arm (which also, by the way, annoyed me, because I am just that grumpy of a person), and I looked down at the offending child, probably with some degree of unpleasantness on my face. "Mrs. Vance," he said, "Why do we celebrate Christmas? What is it really all about?"

This particular student is relatively new to the area, having just moved here from a place that you and I would find rather unusual. He had recently written a journal entry at school about how this was his first year to celebrate Christmas--actually, to celebrate anything!--and he was enjoying everything around him. So, when he asked me why we celebrate Christmas, he really, truly didn't know. His question shook me from my pity-party and put me back in place.

"We celebrate Christmas to remember when Christ was born," I replied.

And, thanks to that little boy and his question, I've finally been doing just that.

May your week and mine be filled with the wonder of a child,
Keri

CORRESPONDING

2011-12-11T23:41:00.002-07:00

Dear Mom, Dad, and others,
You've already written about how amazing and helpful the internet is, and I am in complete agreement. Tonight I was able to write to Evan, read your blog (amazing talk, by the way), enjoy the story that you found through google (we should all give such wonderful Christmas gifts), and plan a few more things for school this week (Pinterest is the best!).
I also got to see, and feel, something tender, sweet, and kind. My friend Kate created a facebook group page for me. It was very thoughtful, and I feel very loved. And a bit overwhelmed at how kind people can be. More overwhelmed by the thought of trying to be good enough to deserve it.
Kind of like Christ and all he offers us.
So many gifts. So many good things.
So past my bedtime.
Love you,
Keri

CORRESPONDING

2011-12-04T22:08:00.002-07:00

Dear Mom, Dad, and Others Who May Care,
You said to just start writing. So I am.
Big news of the week is that Joshua had some oral surgery done. All is well, although he is quite sore, and not looking forward to the additional pain that the upcoming braces will bring.
I think having your child wake from an anesthesia-induced "coma" is quite telling about their personalities. Evan just smiled at everyone he saw. Lane asked for his cell phone and wondered if he had any blood on his shirt. Joshua asked if he could keep the wheelchair.
Later on, while parked at the grocery store where I was filling his prescription, Josh woke enough to ask, "Did I get to ride out to the car in a wheelchair?"
"Yes," I said. "Do you remember asking if you could keep it?"
His eyes brightened. "Well, can I?" he asked.
"Do you like wheelchairs, Josh?" I queried.
"No," he replied, "But I like IVs. Can we go back and do that again?"
I'd better be careful what kind of drugs this kid gets to be around...
And maybe, just maybe, I'll be around here again sometime.
Love Always,
Keri

FORTUNATE

2011-04-30T13:52:00.009-06:00

Unfortunately, this is what we woke to this morning.

Brrrrrr!

Fortunately, the soccer game this afternoon was cancelled, so I got to lay on the couch all day, wrapped in a comfy, cozy blanket, and watch chick flicks.

(BBC'S "Lark Rise to Candleford:" I am hooked)

Also fortunate was that the guys got to go skiing, and apparently had lots of fresh powder in which to do it.

Unfortunately, the dog ate/scraped/dug a hole in the downstairs carpet.

Fortunately, I am one dog-hole closer to new carpet!

Unfortunately, I found out this week that I won't be able to work at Oakwood next year.

I was kindly (truly kindly) informed that while I am super skilled and a totally awesome teacher, I am completely lacking in the necessary superiority to stay.

Fortunately, I like to read books. I guess I'll have something to do with my time (Right now I'm reading "The Tiger's Wife," and I think it's pretty awesome).

At least until I find the next adventure.

Unfortunately, I don't know what that is.

Fortunately, I believe there is one.

CONGRATULATORY

2011-04-29T21:30:00.009-06:00

What started out like this earlier in the afternoon...

(Actually, the boys all sitting nicely was momentary only. To truly represent their antics I would have had to take pictures of them throwing salt at each other, having rolling garbage can wars, swinging on a chain to make others fall off, and running wildly through the snowy courtyard while whacking each other with hijacked crutches!)

moved on to nervously/excitedly searching for room assignments

(which ended up being the same room for each round of the competition)

and eventually ended up like this!

Joshua and his debate partner took second place for the Negative side at this year's Elementary State Debate Meet. Their entire team did well, also winning first place for the Negative side, fifth place for the Affirmative side, and 10 individual speaker awards. Pretty impressive. Their coach is to be commended, complimented, revered, and honored. Not only was her team incredibly well-trained, well-practiced, and well-prepared, but the way they acted earlier in the afternoon (salt wars, garbage wars, chasing wars, maiming wars, etc.) was exactly how they acted each time they were at debate practice! I do not know how she kept her cool nor how they learned a dang thing. But they did! This woman has POWERS! And vision. And my gratitude.

It is a very special thing to watch your child do something well. It is a very special thing to watch your child grow and increase in abilities. It is a very special thing to see your child overwhelmingly happy. Their huge smiles get me every time.

I am a lucky lady to have had so many chances to see all of my kids grow, learn, develop, achieve, and, most especially, smile. I am thankful to all the wonderful people out there who have made those smiles possible and plentiful. And I'm looking forward to lots more! :)

A GIVER

2011-04-28T14:07:00.020-06:00

Because today is my Mom's birthday,

and because my mom taught me to be thoughtful in choosing gifts,

I am choosing to be particularly thoughtful and NOT baking my mom a birthday cake (believe me, that's a gift and a kindness...).

I did, however, pick out the birthday cakes that I would give my mom, if I could bake, could deliver, or could plan ahead..

For you, Mom:

Also for you, Mom: I promise to blog every day until I've written as many posts as birthday years you are celebrating. You'll probably like this gift best because I just might take 20 years off your age...

Happy Birthday, Mom.

I sure do love you.

Keri

A SOCCER MOM II

2011-04-16T15:03:00.015-06:00

Though not my usual garb for a Saturday soccer game, this was an outfit I've been wearing every Saturday (and Tuesday, and Thursday) for the last 8 weeks or so. I've had the good fortune to participate in Hale Centre Theatre's production of "A Tale of Two Cities," a relatively new (and, let's face it, somewhat unknown) musical retelling of Charles Dickens' 1859 novel.

It was the best of times...and, as with every experience I've had working with people, I met the best of people, learned to love more people, and made brilliant memories with many fantastic people.

It was also the worst of times...well, not really. But this was, admittedly, a more difficult show to enjoy doing. Hardly the happy, light-hearted musical (other than backstage, of course) in which I usually find myself performing, my stellar role as Woman 4 in "Tale" consisted of two parts: a) the drunken whore, or b) member of the angry mob. Typecasting, I know.

At any rate, the run is over. It was an amazing, spectacular show. It was designed, directed, and driven by inspired people from start to finish, and it was superbly executed by everyone involved. I am exceedingly proud to have been a part of the "team." Which leads me to why, exactly, this show made me think of soccer. Or why, conversely, soccer makes me think of this show.

As awesome as the production was, and as great as it was to be in it, I will admit to many a moment that the thought crossed my mind, "What if I just disappeared right now? Would it matter?" I was merely Woman 4, sitting on a stair. Woman 4 slumped in a corner. Woman 4 biding my time on a bridge. Nary a speaking line, nary a solo. I wore a brown dress on a brown stage, had a brown wig, and covered myself in brown stage dirt. You couldn't have picked me out from the brown, angry mobbing crowd if you'd tried. So what was the point and purpose of my presence in this play, I wonder?

Teamwork. (Oh, and I made a lot of friends.)

I have two kids who play soccer. Daily. One of them is very visible in what he does as the the team keeper. He's got a lead part, if you will, and he's wonderful at it, and well known for it.

But without the other 10 players, my super-star stud of a goalie son has no chance in heaven of winning a soccer game, regardless of how amazing he is at what he does, and despite his star-power and talents. Without the other "ensemble" members, there's just no "show." Nor would there be a show without him!

My other soccer playing son is a defender. He stands in the back and protects the goal. There are times that he is left all alone, while all the action is happening far ahead of him in the field. If you didn't know to look for him you might forget he was there. But were he to leave his position--to wonder if he really mattered, with nary a goal to his name and nary a shot at glory--his team would be in a sore position. There would be losses. There would be holes. There would not be a team. Their production value would be greatly diminished. There would be no show.

Together, though, their teams win. A lot. And not just in terms of scores, either. They learn commitment. They learn dedication. They learn that everyone has a job to do, and that everyone matters. Teamwork matters.

And so it is that all the world is a stage. We each matter. We each leave holes when we miss our part or don't give our best. Together we enjoy the best of times. Together we can get through the worst of times. Together we make up a beautiful production, start to finish. And hopefully we won't always have to wear brown.

A SOCCER MOM

2011-04-15T23:09:00.001-06:00

After looking at the family calendar for the week and seeing that there is "soccer" written on every day except Sunday, I thought, "I am a soccer mom."

But I'm glad. I love watching my kids do great things, and watching them work hard to do their best is a great thing.

I also generally enjoy overhearing comments about my kids, which I often hear at soccer games. I learn a lot.

I learned that Lane is hot (as though I didn't already know this).
I learned that Joshua is helpful (again, as though I didn't already know this).
I learned that Lane made someone's daughter feel bad (yet another thing I already knew, but it was still sad to hear it and have it made a reality).
I learned that Lane is a ninja.

Joshua and I went to watch one of Lane's soccer games this past week. We parked on one side of the park, not knowing that we were in "enemy territory," and sat amongst the opposing team's fans. We had great seats, though, and were close to the car (which was good, since it was freezing, and we had to go back twice for more blankets!), so we stayed. And it's a good thing we did, at least for entertainment value. There was a group of about 5 or 6 high school girls sitting just in front of us, commenting up a storm about the Cottonwood Colt players, Lane being one of them. Lane was doing such a great job that the girls started calling him a ninja. It was all we could do not to laugh as we heard comments such as these:

"Is he Asian? I don't think he looks very Asian, but he must be, because he is a total ninja with that soccer ball..."
"Yeah. And he's super skinny, too. Asians are skinny like that. He is practically a twig! Look how skinny and small he is compared to our goalie. He's totally a ninja. A stick ninja."
"An Asian stick ninja."

We also learned that a particularly good looking player on Lane's team is particularly good looking no matter how far up on the hill you are sitting.

"Look at number 45. He is so beautiful (he is). Even his hair is beautiful. It totally shimmers in the sun (it does)."
"Yeah. Let's call him 'Mr. Model.' No, let's call him 'Ken.'"
"Hey, Ken! You're beautiful."

Then Ken scored.

"We hate you Ken! You're too pretty to play soccer!"

Oh, how we humans love to hate the pretty ones!

I also learned that I am past the point of old. And it wasn't just my back from sitting on the ground for so long, or my knees that cracked when I got back up. Again, it was the girls who helped inform me:

"Just look at that guy down there. His hair is so white, he must be old!"
"Yeah. He looks so old. He's got to be at least...I don't know...38 or something."

Yep, I'm learning a lot as a soccer mom. Like that I'd better start investing in some Icy Hot, and that I've got a skinny Asian for a son. And that next time I should park on the other side of the field!

MIA

2011-04-14T14:59:00.001-06:00

This is what happens when I am gone for one day.

A) I could feel important, knowing that even the very dishes need me around,

B) I should apologize in advance to my future daughters-in-law;
they are going to think their husbands never learned a dang thing at home...

I choose A.

Postscript: My choice is in no way meant to offend future spices (pl.: spouse of one's child).
I just like to feel important. That, and I really don't know for sure if my kids can do the dishes...

TOUCHED

2011-03-16T17:12:00.010-06:00

Though Joshua is perfectly competent to perform many a procedure requiring rubber gloves, this was not one of them.

This, rather, is the way Joshua walked around our house an entire 3 days after purchasing himself a brand new iPod Touch. Rubber gloves, soft microfiber cloth, and a gentle touch were required by anyone who even attempted to look at his new baby.

These things matter, folks!

Apparently I matter, too, at least to someone out there! I got flowers!

The boys and I came home from an afternoon of soccer (what else do any of us do around here?) to find this floral fantasy awaiting me.

"Who'd give you flowers?" one of the boys asked.

"It definitely wasn't Dad," the other replied. "He'd never spend the money."

"I hope Dad doesn't get mad," one of them teased. "Mom's got a boyfriend....Mom's got a boyfriend!"

Well, a) Dad didn't get mad. In fact, Dad didn't even notice that there were flowers in the house until I showed them to him, nearly two days later. (My husband's obliviousness, mind you, is not without its merits. Just think of the outfits, the shoes, the furniture, the new paint colors I have made a part of my world without repercussion!)

And, b), I do have a boyfriend. Two of them, in fact. And I miss them very much, since they couldn't come visit this spring. Thanks, guys. I wish you were here, too.

Not only did I get flowers, but I got a very nice message from somebody on Facebook. I received the notification of the message through my email, and was pleasantly shocked and surprised to have heard from this particular person. I hurriedly clicked on the link and proceeded to read this awesome message. It was so complimentary! It talked about how genuine I am in my performing. It praised my commitment. It highlighted my sense of humor! I was thrilled! First of all, how neat that someone had taken the time to let me know such nice things. Secondly, how amazing that anyone could have recognized all of my awesomeness from just my brief moments on stage--my most recent stint being Woman 4 in "A Tale of Two Cities." I mean, I really do try to be funny, when appropriate, and sincerely committed always. I just didn't know it was reading so well.

Apparently I'm the one who doesn't read so well! After scratching my head for a bit (still filled with immense gratitude, mind you), I looked again at the message and saw that it was actually meant for someone else.

Greg Barnett, if you're out there, somebody thinks you're a genuine ham with commitment issues.

It's okay. Not everyone has to love me. I got a great reminder that God does.

I've been studying diligently for the past few months for the Praxis Exam (no, the Praxis Exam does not require rubber gloves). It's a test for teachers to prove their willingness to do or pay almost anything to keep/get their certification. And I have to pass it by June in order to remain a Granite School District employee. So, I studied. I studied for weeks. I studied for months. And then, as I was studying on the Monday of the week I was supposed to take the test, a sudden realization came to me: I was studying for the wrong Praxis exam.

I looked up. I jiggled my brain and crossed my eyes. I looked back at the study manual, and had the same thought again: I was studying for the wrong test. There are, actually, a million and three different types of Praxis tests, so I ran to the computer and looked to see which one I was registered to take that Saturday. And, yes-in-deedy, I was studying for the wrong test.

I immediately got on the library website and put different study guides on hold (which, miraculously, came in that very afternoon). I searched the Internet for practice quizzes and study helps. And I prayed. I prayed for help. I prayed for guidance. But mostly I prayed to say thank you. I know it was the inspiration of the Holy Ghost which gave me that timely message and changed my course of action.

So, I took the test. I did my best. I'm waiting 3 more weeks to know the rest.

What I do know, though, is that I have been touched by love. I've been reminded that I matter.

ORGANIZED

2011-03-13T22:06:00.004-06:00

If there were a prize for the best organizational system ever,

my sister Lindsay would probably win it. She, or Martha Stewart.

But, if "pile-it-high" were a category in the competition for said prize,

I would take home the gold.

And put it in another pile.

Welcome (back) to my life.

LIVING WITH BOYS

2010-11-29T22:03:00.002-07:00

I'm a little worried...
every time I go to sit down: corn dog sticks, stinky socks, hidden candy wrappers appear everywhere in the couch. Worse things are on other seats. Yikes.
I'm a little worried...
to see that the boys' bathroom still has soap in the same dispenser that has been there for months. I've gone through three in the same amount of time.
I'm a little worried...
that when I encourage the boys to make wise decisions, they go sledding in the dark. Or build snow ramps off our porch, complete with old trampoline bars for the "advanced track." They did, however, tie mattress pads around the tree for safety. At least there's that.
I'm a little worried...
that to each male in this house, snow=donuts.
I'm a little worried...
that donuts=inhaled snack. Two dozen down in two minutes or less.
I'm a little worried...
about the smell emanating from the basement.
I'm a little worried...
about the noises emanating from anywhere on their bodies...including armpits. How do they do that?
I'm a little worried...
that they are going to change. Sooner than later they are going to leave me. I'm a little worried I am going to have a very clean, very quiet, very boring time without them.

TRAVELING

2010-11-24T21:37:00.006-07:00

The fam left this morning to visit Awesome Dude and Grandma Gay. Also visiting are uncles, aunts, cousins, and Michael's true love, Sadie the dog. We arrived around 7pm, after a very long day spent on snow blown roads. Michael's professional driving skills kept us safe and sound despite the harrowing highways, and a book called "A Girl Named Zippy" kept us giggling and well entertained despite the seemingly endless hours in the car. We arrived without incident, however (unless you want to count having to take Sadie outside to the bathroom in 1 degree, windy, white-out weather as an "incident"), so let the partying begin! As I write, the partying continues downstairs, as people play games, watch television, sing to Colin's guitar playing, and try to win baby Anne's attention and affection. My cold and I are going to bed, however, and looking forward to the celebration of health and strength and daily food...tomorrow.

UNDRESSED

2010-11-22T20:41:00.003-07:00

I just had Parent/Teacher Conferences...all with my zipper down.

If that doesn't say "Competence," I don't know what else would.

EATING THE DECOR

2010-11-20T00:15:00.005-07:00

I sprinkled a handful or two of these pumpkin candies on a table in the hallway. I thought they looked darling. Joshua's friends apparently thought they looked delicious. I heard them crunching their teeth on the stale, hardened candies they swiped on their way outside to play. "How old are these?" someone asked. And then my favorite: "Do these hurt your teeth, too?" Ha! Serves 'em right for eating my decorations. The funny thing is, there was a whole bowl of candy--fresh and still in their wrappers--around the corner on the kitchen counter. I guess they just didn't look as pretty!

LATE

2010-11-20T00:06:00.004-07:00

Midnight on a Friday.
Michael is on the roof stringing Christmas lights.
Lane is out with friends seeing their high school's production of "Annie." At midnight?
Joshua is asleep on the couch, "watching" some movie (little does he know that I just switched the channel to HGTV).
I, besides hi-jacking the television, have just finished switching laundry loads, wiping up bathroom counters, filling the dishwasher, and stapling a million and two papers into manila folders.
Midnight on a Friday. Looks like a great start to the weekend, huh? I can hardly wait for the rest of it!

EVEN OLDER

2010-11-18T19:54:00.006-07:00

Today is the J-boy's 12th birthday.
I just got even older.

Take a look at him as he got older...

Turning 6.

Turning 8.

Turning 10.

Turning 11.

I can't wait to see what 12 is like!

QUANDARIZED

2010-11-17T20:42:00.005-07:00

A part of the challenge in which Michael, Joshua, and I are participating in entails the avoidance of sweets: no desserts, no pastries, no candy, and no sugary snacks. So, what am I to do about the scene in "A Christmas Carol" in which I HAVE TO EAT TREATS? The props guy is putting sweet little edibles on the table for me to consume. I wonder if celery sticks would work in exhange?

Oh! I've figured it out: nowhere, I say nowhere does it say we can't have COOKIES!!!!

The show, and me, are saved!

AFFIRMING

2010-11-16T22:51:00.007-07:00

"I can live for two months on a good compliment." --Mark Twain

Me, too! I am definitely one of those "Words of Affirmation" love language-ers.
I just got home from rehearsal for "A Christmas Carol." It is my sixth or seventh year doing the show, so you'd think I've probably got this down. Yet I still find myself wanting to hear that I'm doing things right. I'll hear a laugh and wonder, "Was that for me?" I'll see a grimace and think, "What did I do wrong?" Pretty selfish and needy of me, I know. But very honest of me to tell you.
And let me tell you, you look very nice today; monitor glow suits you. And you have such a good sense of humor, reading and laughing at my blog like this. And a tender heart, caring about all I have to say. I also think that you have a lot of patience, waiting as you did for me to write again. I just really think you're an all around great person to have around. You really make me feel good. Keep up the good work!

A MISSIONARY'S MOM

2010-11-15T21:56:00.004-07:00

Q: Do you know why this picture makes me laugh so hard?
A: Because, if I recall correctly, I once upon a time thought missionaries were so mature.

Q: Do you know why this picture freaks me out so much?
A: I am freaked out on so many levels when I look at this, but what really bothers my mother-heart is that Evan was able to be this goofy, even in what must have been minutes (60 or less, I'm guessing) from surviving a very real disaster (please do not confirm my suspicions that their car is, indeed, facing into oncoming traffic).

Q: Do you know why this picture makes me tear up?
A: Because every single one of those men wearing white (suit coat or no, tie or no, recent convert or no) has the very real opportunity to change his life, all because of Jesus Christ. And so do I. So do you. No matter the circumstances, no matter the distance between where we are and where we really want to be, our Savior wants to do exactly what that title entails: save us. Whether it be from heartache, unhappiness, confusion, or consequences, Jesus Christ provides the way for us to be changed into our best selves. It may take waiting. It may take work. It may take a while, but, at least speaking for myself, it's lovely to be on my way. Just thinking about it touches me to my tear ducts. I'm glad to know it touches others, too. Just like this picture shows. Just like maybe it's touching you, too.

SINGING THEME SONGS

2010-11-14T07:45:00.007-07:00

There is some movie out there (probably at Red Box, because where else does my family go to get movies?) about Robin Hood that Joshua keeps talking about wanting to see. I couldn't help but laugh as he was talking on and on about this movie and then stopped to ask, "Who is Robin Hood, anyway?"

Who is Robin Hood? Who is Robin Hood? How can it be that my own child doesn't know about this iconic character of a hundred and two classic tales, one of the all-time best Disney animations, and the movie with that heart stopping theme song, "Everything I Do...I Do It For You"? Where have I gone wrong?

I felt greatly relieved as recognition dawned on him after only a few moments of explanation. "Oh, yeah," he said, nodding his head with understanding. "He's that guy that takes from the rich and gives to the poor." And then, the clencher:

"I guess he's kind of like Obama."

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day...

HAP2BME

2010-11-13T21:47:00.003-07:00

I saw the above title today on somebody's license plate. Sadly, it wasn't my car license plate, because NOW I REALLY, REALLY WANT IT, and someone else thought of it first. But what a wonderful phrase: happy to be me. And, you know what? I am. I'm happy to be who I am, where I am, doing what I am, and (generally speaking) learning the things I am. It is a nice place, that HAP2BME. I hope I can stay for awhile.

Other happy things I read today include the two fortune cookie messages (happy free sweets day to me!) I got at the Chinese Gourmet while out celebrating Joshua's upcoming birthday. Cookie number one said, "Your nurturing instincts will expand to include many people." Granted, I wasn't overly excited over a message that seems to presage more work for me...So I called the waiter over and asked for another chance. I dug around in his fortune-cookie basket until my fingers touched what felt like true treasure...and what do you know? Cookie number two (the one the waiter said doesn't actually count, but what does he know?) caused me to shout out loud for joy. Indeed, the fortune-cookie gods do know and love me! "A new pair of shoes will do you a world of good." Yes sirree, Bob, I do agree.

Speaking of the Chinese Gourmet, or rather, of going out for Joshua's birthday, or rather, of Joshua today, he has had a bit of a headache. While working outside with Michael this morning, he complained the whole time about his head hurting. Michael told him to go inside and take something for his headache, which Joshua eventually did. Reading the packaging on the medicines, he discovered one that said it was for headaches. Sinus headaches, that is, but all Joshua paid attention to was that it was for headaches. The said medicine was Benadryl. And, as noted on the packaging, it did indeed make Joshua drowsy. He was one very out of it boy all during dinner. But his headache was gone!

He was finally awake enough by the time we got home to be able to read some scriptures with me. We have been working on the final parts of his Faith in God booklet, and needed to read about the restoration of the Aaronic Priesthood. What a wonderful experience it was to hear him read, to listen to him summarize, to hear him apply what these things mean to him. Of particular note was when we discussed how our personal talents can be used to help other people feel Christ's love for them. I asked Joshua about this and his examples surprised me. He told me, for example, that the way Evan speaks will help other people know about Christ because they will have to really listen to him to know what he is saying. He said that Lane being friendly will help other people know about Christ because they will know that someone thinks they are important. And he said that because he likes to go to church it will help others feel Christ's love because they won't have to struggle to get him to go to church or to listen when he is there.

That boy has got some insight. He, along with his brothers and dad, most assuredly make me HAP2BME, because I get to be part of their world. Even better than new shoes. (Usually)

BORING

2010-11-12T22:50:00.002-07:00

Here's what I did today:

Woke up.

Read scriptures.

Laundry.

Dishes.

More dishes.

More laundry.

Went to the gym.

Worked on grades at school.

Filled glue bottles at school.

Worked on grades at school.

Picked Joshua up from a friend's house.

Took Joshua to his guitar lesson.

Changed the laundry.

Took Joshua back to a friend's house.

Made dinner.

Worked on grades at home.

Did more dishes.

Worked on grades at home.

Went to rehearsal.

Came home.

Picked up Joshua from a friend's house.

Remembered about this blog.

Thought about my boring day.

Yeah, you wanted to know all about it, didn't you...

If nothing else, your day just became way more exciting.

It's my gift to you, because I'm giving like that.

And now I'm giving up and going to bed.

COURAGEOUS

2010-11-10T23:09:00.005-07:00

Today I read The Red Badge of Courage. Again. That was my third time. And finally I think I understand why it's considered a classic (It was the Mom's parting words to her son that hooked me and made this a relatable story to me; sob, sob). Finally, a book considered "classic" that I can actually agree should be a classic. Actually, there are lots of them, but I always get hung up on books such as these: Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Moby Dick, Lord of the Flies, Catcher in the Rye, Call of the Wild. Who makes these lists, anyway? Who really is in charge here?

Well, as we learn in school, "I am in charge of me." So, I'm going to be in charge of my own classic novel list and if I ever need a blog topic in the next 7 weeks of this challenging challenge, I'll let you know what they are. I promise, it won't have The Old Man and the Sea anywhere on it.

SLEEPY

2010-11-09T22:24:00.008-07:00

What I want now, more than anything, is bed. I don't even think I have enough staying awake power for a moment or two with Jamie and Claire. (Outlander fans, I know you know what I'm giving up.)

There. I wrote.
(Do I get my challenge point?)

What? In good conscience I can't say that counts? Stupid challenge. Stupid conscience.

Stupid me. I cannot think of anything to post.

Wait, just a minute....(searching, searching, searching...)

(random picture, taken by Sawyer)

That ought to keep you up at night. And really want to try my favorite hair products.
(I'll be sleeping, though. ZZZZZzzzzzzz) Good night!

A BIG FAT LIAR

2010-11-08T22:23:00.004-07:00

Do you know Peter Breinholt? Well, he knows me, and he also knows I'm a big fat liar!

For each show at the Hale Centre Theater, the performers fill out a bio form which is then sent to some bio putter-together-er for the program.

After several same-sounding descriptions of myself and my life, I decided to make it just a touch more personal...with a lie.

So, from the bio of one program you would have learned that I love to travel and attend time share presentations. From another, that I am a sports enthusiast. Or, that I enjoy snowshoeing in the deep woods, and hiking in for a long winter's camp. Pretty entertaining stuff, really. I even mentioned that I love nothing more than ironing all my family's clothes (particularly their undies! I didn't really say that...but it would be as true as the rest of my entries!).

It's all fun and games until somebody believes you, right?

So imagine how NOT funny it was when a dad (Peter) came to me last year requesting my help in picking out and training a dog for his son. They had been trying to convince Mom that a dog was a good thing when, lo and behold, the young son read in my bio that I am a dog trainer! (Not exactly a lie, really, considering how many dogs I've tried to train. I should have written that what I really am is a failed husband trainer!). I had to fess up to my fib, and felt pretty badly about it, too.

Not bad enough to change my ways, though. I wonder who I'll scar this year with the reading of my program bio?

UNABLE TO LIVE WITHOUT...

2010-11-07T21:03:00.020-07:00

A favorite former neighbor came visiting at church today. She had her hair cut all cute and fancy, and looked absolutely adorable. (Yes, Nat, this means YOU!).
She asked about my favorite short-hair hair products, which got me thinking all through church about all my other favorite things, like eyeshadow and lipsticks, shoe shopping and clearance racks. It was a very spiritual day. All that spiritual soul searching seemed to go right along with something I read for Sunday School today:

"And when thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do? . . . Thou clothest thyself with crimson, though thou deckest thee with ornaments of gold, though thou rentest thy face with painting, in vain shalt thou make thyself fair. . ." Jeremiah 4:30

Hmmm...in vain, huh? Hmmmm....
Still, knowing that truly meaningful things are meant to be shared, here is an it's-just-about-time-for-me-to-crash-into-bed-list of my very favorite things. Vain efforts and spoilage notwithstanding...

For the Head:

For the Eyes:

For the Lips:

For the Mouth:

For the Ears:

For my Closet:

For my Sanity:

For my Heart:

Perhaps it's not all worthless stuff, after all...

FAILED

2010-11-05T20:46:00.002-06:00

When all else seems to be failing...

go to the SYTYCD concert. IT WAS SOOOO AWESOME!!!! Oh, how I love my Robert and Kent...
read/listen to "The Outlander." Again. Oh, how I love my Jamie.
be married to Michael. Oh, how I love my husband.
receive a homemade bracelet from a second grader. Oh, how I love my second graders.

Yes. All is well.

CONSCIENTIOUS

2010-11-04T17:35:00.009-06:00

I got this note from a darling little boy in my class. It made me smile, because the sentiments are so sweet. It made me laugh, because before finishing his labor of love, the artist/author came up to me, looked me in the eyes and said, "I just want to know exactly what your eyes look like."

Brown marker dots: he got it just right.

I'm trying not to judge myself by the misspellings or, more particularly, the question mark at the end of his sentence.

But today, after finding out that yet another distressed parent wants to come in and observe my class and talk to the principal about their findings, I am putting a question mark of my own on my abilities.

Someone did tell me, though, that I'm conscientious. That's something.

And I do have lovely brown eyes.

SPOOKED, III

2010-11-03T17:06:00.013-06:00

Imagine the terror in our parents' hearts of hearts when we looked up from our comfy couch to see Lane walking in the door dressed like so...

The fact that he looked so good dressed in a girl's cheer leading outfit did nothing to make us feel better.
Nor did finding out that he'd just been out for ice cream with a bunch of friends, all of them dressed like this...

Perhaps this is why it's so often asked, "Parents, do you know where your kids are?"
Well, we knew Lane was at a Powder Puff football game, one of the Homecoming traditions at his high school, but he told us he was the coach--not part of the cheer squad!

I hope the girls played football better than the boys cheered, because this was Lane's prize for his adventures in girl clothes:

a broken finger.

He was kicked by one of his fellow cheer-ers, and after much pain and four screws and a plate in his finger later, this was Lane, post-op. He was groggy and gross, throwing up every time he moved.

This is Lane pre-op.

Oh, yes. There are times he terrifies me! Mostly, though, he just makes me laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more. Then we laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh...

SPOOKED, II

2010-11-02T22:48:00.013-06:00

Lane turned 18 last week.

Happy Birthday, Lane!

His good friend aided and abetted me in throwing a grand surprise party for Lane.

Another good friend offered him a very special birthday gift: a kiss from three different girls.
All Lane had to do was stand there--blindfolded--and graciously accept his gift.
All he then had to do was guess who each girl was.

This is Lane after finding out that I was Contestant #2.

I have to admit, I was a little freaked out by it, too.

Creepy.

SPOOKED

2010-11-01T22:42:00.001-06:00

I shan't be clever, I shan't be quaint.
I'm only blogging to earn my paint (er...point).

Dearest Linessa of the "If You're Going To Do Something, Do Something Well" realm has invited me, along with several other participants/contestants to better ourselves through an 8 week Holiday challenge. One of the requirements is to write in one's journal/blog each day.

Hence, I'm blogging.

But not well.
I'll just fill you in on the latest of our lives...

Saturday night, for all intents and purposes, was Halloween around here. Joshua went trick-or-treating with some friends (no grown-ups allowed). When he came to school dressed for the Halloween Parade, he was attired in ski clothes and shorts with a naked bum attached, and was (in case you couldn't guess) a ski-bum. To go out Saturday night, though, he was first a clown, then a skeleton, and then left as a ski bum. He returned shortly afterwards, however, to change yet again, this time into a Rastafarian. Whatever that is. He was gone all night, though, so whatever he was, he was having a good time being it.
Lane party-hopped the whole night dressed as...Lane. I did see him in costume the night before when he went to a football game. He was (drum roll, please) a Rastafarian.
I was Rapunzel. Not even a Rastafarian Rapunzel.

I was Rapunzel, that is, until the wig I had painstakingly made out of 6 skeins of yarn gave me a huge headache, a kink in my neck, and partial deafness (I couldn't hear underneath all that yarn). Five days to make the wig. Five minutes 'til it was off my head.

Michael was, as ever, beastly. More specifically, he was in his Halloween-means-but-one-costume-for-the-rest-of-my-life gorilla get-up.

Evan was a Mormon missionary.
Evan was a Mormon missionary who got into a car accident.

He is okay, and was truly protected from what could have been a genuine horror for all of us. We got the scary phone call from the Mission President's wife on Saturday night, just as we were leaving to go to a Halloween party ourselves. Needless to say, we were a little late, and not a little bit shaken. But all is well, for which we are immensely grateful to our Heavenly Father.

A perfect time to move into the Thanksgiving season! No more spooks for me, thank you very much.

COUNTING

2010-10-10T22:00:00.001-06:00

Owing to the fact that today is ten ten of ten...I thought I might up the celebration a bit by posting ten things at ten o'clock. Whoo, boy! Hold me back from tipping those excitement scales!
Anyway, here 'tis: a brief update, listed in no particular order--just what comes to mind first, second, third, fourth, and so on. Gotta' love those ordinals...

Lane had to have surgery on the pinky finger he broke while wearing a girl's cheerleading outfit.
I bought a new rug for the front room. It is zebra print and makes Michael go wild (not because of the print, but because it cost money.)
Evan has been assigned to be an ASL (American Sign Language) missionary. He took some ASL classes in High School, but somehow I doubt he learned words like the Book of Mormon and baptism by immersion there, even if we do live in Utah.
I started rehearsals for "A Christmas Carol" last week. I will again be reprising my role as third girl from the left, a slight change from my role as third girl on the right I just finished playing in "The Pirates of Penzance."
Joshua's soccer season just ended. His team managed to keep themselves in the Premier league, despite major setbacks. I managed to be only slightly less confused at when it is and when it isn't off sides.
I followed a recipe to the T in making some ice cream for dessert tonight. It was absolutely disgusting, and I am going back to my dump and see method of making anything.
Teaching is going better. We've only had to have a police officer come in to our class once! (That's for real. I have a student who continually steals, so I invited an officer from our district police to come in and talk to the whole class in an effort to thwart the problem.)
My dad is out of the hospital and making progression towards a homecoming.
Michael took Joshua and me (Lane was out with friends, as per usual) out to dinner at a restaurant that was celebrating Oktoberfest. He ordered something that came with purple sauerkraut and two fried eggs on the top. I nearly threw up. I ordered a delicious Reuben sandwich and still nearly threw up (after eating the whole thing, that is).
I am going to bed now.

STILL SWIMMING

2010-09-12T19:55:00.004-06:00

Well, folks. I'm still in the water.

And, WOW, it has been a crazy couple of weeks!

School started.
"Pirates of Penzance" opened (I am, as always, playing second girl from the right...).
Evan went to the temple.
Fall competition soccer started.
Evan had his going away party.
Evan and Lane received their Eagle Scout Awards.
My dad had a bad turn of events and is in the ICU in Colorado.
I got a new responsibility at church.
Evan went into the MTC.
I had a birthday (yes, folks, the BIG FOUR-OH!).
And life didn't slow down for one second!

Some of that has been wonderfully awful. Some of that has been awfully wonderful.
Some of that has been both.

But, if the doggy-paddle counts, I'm still swimming!

TEARFUL, FEARFUL, CHEERFUL

2010-08-20T22:29:00.003-06:00

Today, I lost it.
I broke down and cried in front of my mentor teacher.
It probably made her think that I am a mental teacher.

And, truthfully, I may be a little mental! It has been a long week of working really hard, really long, and sometimes really haphazardly. It may have made me crazy.

But, not for naught. I now have a really cute classroom with 29 desks and 29 chairs and 29 red folders and 29 orange folders and 29 boxes of crayons and 29 sharpened pencils and 29 math books and 29 spelling books and 29 writing notebooks and and and...

I even have lesson plans and papers run off and my M,T,W,Th,F baskets filled with things to do.

So, for a moment there, I was cheerful.

But after one visit too many to my cute little classroom (complete with polka dot paper and red borders) from some other teachers, I began to doubt my own brilliance. After a look or two around the classroom, I would get comments like these:
"Oh, my. Polka dots? You know children can't learn with polka dots around. They'll be too distracted."
and
"Oh, my. You're using red in your classroom? You know red is the color of anger, and children can't learn with that color in the room. Everything needs to be blue. Studies show that blue is calming and aids in education."
and
"Oh, my. You're going to use that book to instruct your children? No, no. That's not the right book. That book is too hard for these children."
and
"Oh, my. I would never use that method."
"Oh, my. I would never take that approach."
"Oh, my."
"Oh, my."
Oh, my.

And then, I was fearful.
Fearful of doing the wrong thing, I began to second guess everything I'd done, was about to do, or ever thought about doing. I went to my mentor teacher (who is, by the way, absolutely amazing!), just to ask her if I needed to use a different textbook...

And then I was tearful.

I couldn't stop myself. I cried. Highly unprofessional, I know, but also highly impossible to stop once started.

But, that was then and this is now, and now I am home after a good night at the theater. I am cheerful once more.

School starts Monday, polka dots, text book, and all.
Sans tears.
Moderated fears.

Three cheers.

HAPPY...

2010-08-13T15:38:00.016-06:00

...BIRTHDAY, to you! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, to you! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, dear Daddy!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to YOU!!!!
If any of you are lucky enough to know my dad, then you are lucky enough to know one of the world's greatest men.

And, one of the world's zaniest! He is definitely his own man, doing things his own way.

Once I went with my dad to pick out new glasses for him. If I thought I was to be of any assistance, I was greatly mistaken. He walked in, picked up the first pair of frames he found and declared, "These are good."
"But, Dad, don't you want to try them on first? Or look for some others?"
"These are good."
"But, Dad, there might be others that look more stylish or something."
"Keri," he said, sitting down in the chair, indicating definite done-ness, "Style is not a part of my lexicon."

Who'd 'a thunk it?

Here are a few things that are a part of his lexicon:

Love of my mother.

Love of his children.

Love of Jesus Christ.

Love of His children.

My dad is one in a million. And I love him. I'm lucky that he loves me, too.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!

Thanks for teaching me your lexicon of life.

FORTUITOUSLY FAT

2010-08-12T21:53:00.007-06:00

How lucky can a girl get?
I pulled this fortune while having lunch with my beloved Gliny in Ft. Collins. Thinking it a lovely list of words, I took the photograph for posterity, then promptly forgot about it amidst left overs and leaving.
Forgot about it until...several months later when I got a phone call from the principal of the school where I've been working as a substitute teacher for the last several years. A phone call during which he offered me a job.
A real job. A perfect job. A plop down into my lap, couldn't be better suited to my life sort of job. A job I wasn't looking for, but a job I happily accepted nonetheless. It's a job teaching the morning half of a second grade class.
Not that teaching has ever been known as a make-you-rich sort of profession, but teaching does bring in more money than doing nothing! And, better than the money, teaching just plain makes me feel rich inside.
Wealth, indeed, awaits me very soon.

The truth, however, is that the whole thing scares me to death.
What if I'm not any good? What if I don't know what to do? What if I'm terrible at it?
What if I fail?
There are times I'm slightly tempted to quit--quit before I even begin!
But then I think of something my voice teacher has taught me to say at times like these:
"Swim fat."

Say what? Swim fat?!
Here's the deal:
If you are fat, and you want to go swimming, you have three options.
You can wait until you drop the desired poundage, and then go swimming.
You can just not go swimming.
Or, you can swim fat.

Well, I am, admittedly, a bit doubtful of my abilities right now, and totally unsure of what I'm really facing. I'm feeling fat.

But I'm also extremely excited, and recognize how very lucky I am to have this opportunity to teach.
So, folks, I'm jumping in. Fat and all.

Wish me my fortune.

SAINTLY

2010-08-07T08:09:00.006-06:00

Ha! I accidentally posted this when absolutely nothing but the title was written.
Oops. That's kind of funny. (And, Natalie, so was your comment!)

My intentions were to post pictures of our recent trip to St. George (hence, the title), as well as some pictures we took in St. George while visiting there a year ago. I hadn't realized that we'd made it an annual vacation, but it's kind of turning out that way! I don't mind one bit; it's such a lovely place (more so when the air conditioner works, right Lindsay?).

My intentions are still there. Michael's laptop, however, is not. Well, I mean, it's there, if "there" means Island Park, Idaho, where M and the boys are reunion-ing with the Vance clan (I'm going on Wednesday). So he's got all the pictures with him, and I just have a blank blog entitled "Saintly."

As long as I've got you looking, though, let me tell you how saintly I truly am.

Today, as I was walking out after church, I passed a woman I didn't recognize. I did notice she was standing alone, possibly waiting for someone. I just kept going. Suddenly there were words in my head. Some might call that inspiration. But was it? Here, let's replay the moment together:

"Hmm...I don't know that lady. I should probably stop and say hello." walk, walk, walk...

"That would be stupid. She's probably just visiting, and church is over now anyway, and I'll never see her again, so what's the point?" walk, walk, walk...

"Well, the point is to be nice. Are you a friendly person, or not?" walk, walk...open door and exit...

"Not." walk...stop

"Or, at least I don't have to be...all the time...do I?" roll eyes at heaven...

"Oh, come on! I already talked to two other new people and invited that one kid to my Primary class and shared my quiet books and, and, and...!" dang it

"Keri, you need to go say hello." Can't ignore that one.

"Maybe I'll be the one who makes her feel welcome? Maybe my words will be just what she was waiting to hear? Maybe my hand of fellowship will be the one that pulls her back from a sea of loneliness to bask in the warmth of womanly companionship?!" turn self around...

"Okay. Yes. I'll do it. I only hope I'm not too late!" walk, walk, walk...faster now...back the way I came...

I found the woman exactly where I'd passed her, still alone, still waiting. I offered up my winsome smile and a happy greeting. And was met by a stone cold wall. She stared at me icily for a moment, and then walked past me in silence.

Where are the words now? Hmmmm?

I suppose, all in all, I'm lucky. Most of the saints I've heard about had their heads chopped off.

TREKKING

2010-08-07T07:44:00.007-06:00

If a picture paints a thousand words, well, then here's a short novel:

Trek 2010: A Pioneer Odyssey

In the beginning Michael and I were clean, pressed, and pioneer power-dressed to impress.
No make-up, no hair-spray, convening at the church at 4:45 a.m., I was truly leaving civilization behind.

After a six-hour drive we reached our destination: the Mormon Handcart Visitor Center at Martin's Cove, Wyoming.
Lovely views (especially when I'm home, looking at them on a computer screen).

It was fuh-reez-ing cold!
Okay. Maybe "freezing" is a slight exaggeration, but it was extremely chilly, with terrific winds that drove us all to search for warmer wear, including my winter hat (which, by the way, did nothing to improve my heretofore non-hair sprayed hair do).

And the walking began.
Sing with me now: Pioneer children sang as they walked,

and walked,

and walked,

and walked,

and walked.

They washed at streams

(crossing the Sweetwater River)

and worked
(wending our way to the actual Martin's Cove site)

and played.
(the plastic lizard I left as a surprise for one of my Trek daughters. I also came prepared with rubber spiders, mice, and snakes which I shared as special--yes, surprise--gifts throughout the camp).

At night they camped,
(singing around the campfire each night)

and danced
('though I am one exceedingly proficient square dancer, I ended up in the super-dunce group--of which Lane was a part, incidentally. No one could master the art of even walking in a straight line, let alone dance with a partner! At one point I looked around and saw one young man ripping his shirt off and swinging it around his head, another young man doing the disco next to the poor, sweet sister missionary who was trying to lead us, and Lane pretending to ride a horse with his friend Cody, galloping sounds and horse commands included!)

and prayed.
(not really praying, here, although we did a lot of that! We also started seeing Lane hang out with our Trek family a lot more, since he and one of our cute Trek daughters really hit it off well together. They ended up spending lots of time together after we got home, too, until--alas--she had to return home to Colorado.)

Can you figure out which one she is? Don't be fooled by the hot babe with the ringlets. That's just me, wearing one of the three wigs I brought and wore on Trek.

Wigs or no, three days of wind, sun, sweat, and dirt certainly transformed us into bathing (as in "needing one badly") beauties!

Despite the dirt and grime, and my sincere reluctance to ever spend that much time in the great outdoors, this was a great experience. Memories were made, lessons were learned, and friendships were strengthened. My testimony of obedience was strengthened. Lane, who never talks about such personal things, told me ways that his testimony was strengthened. And Michael was just plain thrilled to a) get to be outside, b) have a Trek experience with his son, and c) have me away from any form of shopping for three blessed days.

HOPEFUL

2010-08-07T07:23:00.011-06:00

I hope they call me on a mission...

when I have grown a foot or two...

I hope by then I will be 19 years old ready...

To teach, and preach, and work...

like missionaries in the Pennsylvania Philadelphia mission do.

Yes, folks, he's all grown up now and leaving us on September 8th. He could not be more excited. This is what he's dreamed about and prepared for all his life. Evan truly wants nothing more than to serve the Lord.

I, the lucky one he calls Mom, want nothing more for Evan than the peace that comes from knowing that the Lord is intimately involved in his life, and loves him beyond comprehension. If Evan doesn't know that already, he's going to find out.

If you don't know that already, I hope you get to find it out, too. There's nothing better I could wish for you, either. You are loved.

AWAY

2010-07-30T20:50:00.003-06:00

The fam is on vacay.

We drove south last Sunday night to enjoy a week in the heat. And it has, indeed, been hot.

Fun, too.

Monday we met up with our dear friends, the Loves (who, by the way, were the catalytic couple responsible for Michael and me meeting way back when...) for a morning of swimming, an afternoon of eating, and an evening of theater-ing. We took all the chill'ens to the Tuacahn (an outdoor theater) to see a production of Disney's "Tarzan." I found the company outstanding, the weather pleasant, and the show unremarkable, sloppy, and disappointing. The boys, on the other hand, all loved it and thought it was "totally awesome." So really, what do I know?

Here's what I know: riding the rides on top of the Stratosphere was totally awesome. Totally. Awesome. We spent two days in Vegas, and riding the rides on top of the Stratosphere was the most totally awesome highlight of the trip. I mean it, it was totally awesome.

Did I tell you it was totally awesome? So completely and totally awesome.

Now we're back in St. George and I am going to eat some pizza. And watch a movie. And leave for Salt Lake tomorrow. It's been a great week.

I love vacation.
And the Stratosphere rides.
And pizza.
And my family.

P.S. Did I mention that the Stratosphere rides were totally awesome? They were TOTALLY AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!

HERE...

2010-07-27T13:31:00.002-06:00

for now.

I make no promises, only an attempt to curb my blogging black out.
'Cause my mom said.

And so did a few others of you, to whom I give a great big THANK YOU for sticking with me and wanting me back.

I don't know what my problem is...other than, other than, other than....I don't know. I just didn't want to write any more.

BUT THEN, I was asked to give a talk in church this past Sunday. The assigned topic was "the spiritual nature of going on Trek" and/or "your pioneer heritage."

Ha! The spiritual nature of Trek? As awesome and spiritual as Trek is and was, my talk would have to be more along the lines of "the survival nature of Trek." And that wasn't a topic choice. So, "pioneer heritage" it was.

And what, dear reader, do you think I could have used for information in my talk if my pioneer ancestors had not written down their stories? What if they, too, had decided that they just plain didn't want to write any more? That would have made for a very short talk from me! Thank you, Ancestors, for writing your life histories.

And here, Posterity, comes all that you may ever want to know and use when you get to speak in Church, too. It's my gift to you, along with all the many fine genetic traits you stand to inherit (although, for the hips, I do apologize).

Speaking of Trek, though, I want you to know that it was a very great experience. Some day I may even tell you all about it. But I've got to start back slowly here...

Also speaking of Trek, my camera was crushed by a rogue mini van in the church parking lot upon our return home to Salt Lake, so no pictures for you (or me). Yet.

Cross your fingers for more to come.
Or, just tell my mom to call me.

HABITUAL

2010-04-06T19:50:00.003-06:00

Every Monday morning I wake up and decide, "This is the day, the hour, the moment...that I will live right."

Living right =don't spend money
exercise every day
avoid all things sugar
read my scriptures
post on my blog
be nice

Then comes Tuesday. Oops.

The checklist:
10 boxes of DIY bookcases, 2 gallons of paint, and 1 missionary overcoat does not equal free.
1 Monday morning weight training class does not an athlete make.
Curse you, Denise, and that bag of chocolate covered Peeps you sent home!
Scriptures? Does falling asleep during family scripture reading count?
Posting on my blog...well, I am a jokey jokester.
Being nice: Like I said. Oops.

One nice thing about me: eternally hopeful, I did the math. 38 Mondays 'till any of us have to set real goals...

TICKLED

2010-04-03T20:17:00.003-06:00

I am hardly hilarious.

Zany, perhaps, and sometimes a tad off-color.
But funny is not my forte.

Want proof? Ask me to tell a joke. Inevitably I will forget, mix up, or completely massacre the punch line.

Or, leave your laundry unfolded on the laundry table. I will be anything but funny then.

So, it is with great pleasure that I share with you my April Fool's Day endeavor:

Dinner (which usually is a joke at our house).

On the menu were grilled cheese (toasted pound cake with frosting tinted to look like Velveeta), and cupcakes (meatloaf topped with mashed potatoes) for dessert. And carrots (real ones...my creativity does have limits).

I could hardly keep a straight face through the prayer. I about died when Lane pulled the A1 from the fridge. I couldn't wait until Joshua dipped his sandwich in ketchup. I hooted (privately) when Michael went to warm his toasted cheese. I, folks, had achieved hilarious.

(appreciative) Audience of one.

Next year I'm going to attempt the telling of a joke.

WRITING A NEW POST

2010-04-01T20:36:00.001-06:00

APRIL FOOLS!

(Made 'ya look!)

LAME

2010-03-29T22:43:00.010-06:00

Once upon a time I went on a trip to Atlanta.

Then, after more than a week past my return,
rather than expend any effort at recapturing the memories myself,
I decided to link to what other people
(read: my fellow travelers; read: my sisters and mom)
have had to say about our southern sojourn. They already did such a good job.

Yep, Keri is so very...p-lazy-rizing her own family.
I am a p-lazy-rist.

(P.S. Anybody want to write about my trip to Japan two years ago? I'll share my chopsticks...)

AWAY

2010-03-16T16:52:00.002-06:00

I am away, doing this.

Hugs and kisses, and a promise of my own update soon.

DISTRESSED

2010-03-08T23:08:00.003-07:00

Lane had his first soccer game of the season today.

I'm not sure if it was more upsetting to watch him get clobbered (knocked off his feet, pummeled to the ground, squished and squashed between a billion other players...and scored on to boot!),
or to overhear the three girls sitting near Joshua and me talking about Lane.

"Oh, he is so cute..."

"Yeah, he's awesome..."
"I love Lane...Lane, I love you!!!"

Definitely the squashed part; hearing the girls was pure entertainment!

R-RATED

2010-03-05T09:13:00.009-07:00

WARNING: This post is inappropriate. Dana, stop reading NOW!

Last night at dinner we sat and discussed the parent teacher conferences I had just attended for Lane. I complimented him on his extremely good grades and the praise and smiles I received from each of his teachers, including his seminary teacher who is often times driven to distraction by Lane's antics (i.e. bringing in a lighter and burning things in class--"to help everyone understand Alma 14 better," filling his teacher's water bottle with vinegar, breaking in to his teacher's office and putting post-it notes with smiley faces over each framed photograph, etc., etc...).

"But, Lane," I mistakenly went on to say, "No matter how awesome you truly are, I still wish you would wear a belt with your pants. I am tired of seeing your undie-tundies all the time."

"You mean this?" Lane asked, as he stood and pulled his pants down further.
"Or this?" at which point he mooned me.

THEN...

Just when I thought I at least had Joshua to give me hope...
Joshua came in to Michael's office declaring that he was,
"So masturbated."

"What did Joshua just say?" I queried my equally stunned husband.

"I'm pretty sure he said what you think he said," was Michael's amazingly calm reply.

Seeing our dazed and concerned looks, Joshua quickly asked,
"What? What did I do? What did I say?"

"Tell us what you meant just now," Michael requested.

"Oh...(pause, pause, pause) I think what I meant to say was, 'exasperated.' Did I just say something bad?"

We laughed, and I told him he should maybe stick to saying he was frustrated.

I'm afraid that because we are (obviously) such a naughty, ribald family you may not want to a) come visit, b) say that you know us, or c) read this blog anymore. We are oh so R-rated.
I will miss you greatly, but I'm pretty sure I'll still be chuckling.

SUPER DEE DOOPER SMART

2010-03-04T11:09:00.004-07:00

How I know Joshua is a good kid:

Let's be real for a second; if your child looked like this, why would you even care?

Who's going to let him out long enough to cause problems?!

REALLY SMART

2010-03-03T20:53:00.000-07:00

How I know Evan is a good kid:

He sent me a Valentine's Day card, on time, in the mail, with a nicer message to me than I have ever written to anyone. He really touched my heart.

He has also indicated that he misses my cooking. If you know my cooking at all...then you know it's a thing that should be missed.

Love you, Evan.

SMART

2010-03-02T12:23:00.007-07:00

How I know Lane is a good kid:

One day, not too long before the State swim meet, Lane came home with his hair cut in a mohawk.

You can imagine the double take I did when I first caught a glimpse of his (not so) hunky handsomeness.

That night Michael, Joshua, and I left for a soccer tournament in St. George. Lane had very clear instructions to cut his hair before the Sweetheart's Dance that weekend.

Which he did.

With no parents to push him and no grown ups to ground him, he still did what we asked.
He also went to his church basketball game, mohawk and all, despite the fact that he hates playing church basketball. He got himself up and to early morning seminary. He didn't skip school. He didn't drive the car we left. He did his laundry. He put his dishes in the dishwasher. And he made it home on time from his swim meet to go to a dance he had no interest in attending. Sporting a new haircut.

He also told the people who were making fun of his new "do" that it isn't nice to make fun of cancer patients.

And I doubt he told them that he wasn't one.

That's a good kid. And one that makes me laugh.

MEAN

2010-02-17T21:13:00.003-07:00

One of the teachers I often sub for told me (jokingly, I hope) that she can't ask me to come in much more because the kids like me too much.

I'll have to let her know she's safe.

Joshua overheard one of this teacher's students say she didn't want to come to class today because "Mrs. Vance is mean."

What?! I'm what??

What I am is busy right now, beating my own child for smiling when he heard that.

OBEDIENT

2010-01-31T22:21:00.020-07:00

When faced with the daunting task of writing something worth both my time and yours, often I just give up. Nothing, I figure, is better than something that would have been better off left at nothing.

Got that?

But my mom said, "Write something." She's seemingly interested in the hum-drum of my life.
So, in Honor of Mom:

My house. I mean my chaos.

My home improvement (and reason why nothing else is getting done).

My homies (for whom I paint).

My honey (for whom I pant).

My honey's hound.

My hair.

Lane's hilarious (?) invitation to the Sweetheart's dance.

The place where I spend hours and hours of my time.

A six year old historian's horrifying illustration for his February calendar. (Needless to say, I did not let him display his picture, no matter how historically accurate...)

The hon(s) (book, that is, in Japanese) most recently in my hands.

And that, my friends, is how I spend my hours.
Hope yours are happy ones, too!

BACK

2010-01-31T20:35:00.007-07:00

Evan came home for the weekend.

This is how much we saw of Evan:
His head peeking out of the covers.
His shoes left by the front door.
His suitcase and clothes in the basement.

He came home to see a girl. And that girl wasn't me.

Evan also came home to find his bedroom looking like this:

Since his departure to school, both Lane and Joshua have turned Evan's room into a dumping ground for any and all things no longer wanted in their own bedrooms.

I asked Evan how he felt about coming home and finding his room no longer his room.

"Well," he said, "It felt kinda' weird, but I guess it was bound to happen."

Kinda like me not being the girl he'd come home to see in his life...

This growing up thing...I wonder sometimes if I like it.
And yes, actually, I suppose I do.

THERE

2010-01-12T11:47:00.019-07:00

Evan is there. Away. At school.
And, by all accounts on Facebook (the only way we've really managed to hear from him), he is happy and well, and apparently "NEVER MOVING BACK HOME!"

How quickly we went from this:

(Evan reading his acceptance letter to BYU-I )

to this:

(Driving away to Rexburg, ID. That car was so jam-packed, we barely had room to fit the family!)

and to this:
Boo hoo.

I really did cry, but this wasn't when. This was when Evan was saying, "I have to go, Mom... The guys are coming...You don't need another picture...I'm leaving now," all because people from his welcoming team were coming to get him for first night/get to know you activities/night games.
The guys did come and Evan did refuse any more pictures. Our last view of him was as he ran down the hall yelling, "Lock the door when you leave!"

"Well," said Michael, "I guess that's it. Eighteen years* of raising him, and he runs down the hall with his friends."

Only if you do it right.

So that's how dropping off our oldest child at college ended;
with him dropping us.

This is how it began:

We drove 30 minutes from our nephew Adam's Idaho Falls apartment to the very small, very clean, very snowy BYU Idaho campus in Rexburg. It is beautiful, and set right below the temple.

We found the building where Evan was to register.

He got out of the car, and I started to cry.

"You can't go to college, Evan. I haven't taught you everything! I'm not done yet! I promise I'll be nice if you stay! I'll do your laundry. I'll clean your room!"

Sweet Evan put his hand on my arm and said, "I know, Mom. It is kind of sad."

And then he walked away!

He registered, got his dorm room key, paid for food, had his ID card made, bought his books, got a job (thanks, Adam!), talked to his counselor, and went to the meeting for incoming students.

Later we found his dorm room, brought all his stuff into his dorm room, shopped for more stuff for his dorm room, and then, he left us in his dorm room!

The end.
And another beginning.

*Being a late-comer to this family, I have only had just shy of 13 years raising Evan. And every moment was...exactly as it should be. Sometimes hard, often fun, always joyful.

When I think of the joy I've had with these boys, I also think of the gratitude I have for their real mother, Lynne. Without her, there wouldn't be any of this.

Certainly it's easier not to have to share. That's my tactless honesty about the whole thing.
But also in all honesty, I would be oh so wrong not to know that she's still a part of things, and oh so much more wrong not to say thank you for the gift of motherhood she gave me, wittingly, willingly, or not.

So here's my ethereal shout out to the heavens: none of us truly knows the effect we have on others' lives. Thank you, Lynne, for all the ways you've affected my life for good. Your boys are genuinely good, grand to the core, and awesome to the hilt. I am grateful to you for the opportunity I have to know and raise them.

THERE II

2010-01-12T10:07:00.006-07:00

Speaking of being there, the whole time we were in Idaho, Adam was there.

Adam is my oldest nephew, and having just graduated from BYU-I in June, is an excellent tour guide of the area.

He is also a fabulous host, and his Idaho Falls apartment isn't even remotely bachelor-pad-ish (thanks, I'm sure, to his soon to be wife, LaDawn, who obviously was the one working magic in the home dec department).

While still a student, Adam worked for the graphic design department on campus. Hence, his work was everywhere.

We found Adam's work when Evan went to register.
We found Adam's work when Joshua wanted to buy something from the vending machines.
We found Adam's work when we went to the student center.
We found Adam's work when we went to the cafeteria.
We even found Adam, and his work, when we weren't with Adam!

It was fun being with Adam. And profitable, too, since he was the one that found Evan an on campus job! It was also nice to know that Evan has family so close by.

All he has to do is find that poster again.

NOT THERE

2009-12-31T21:56:00.012-07:00

Today my sister Merrit got married, and I was not there*. Physically.

But, thankfully, due to modern technology, and the heroic actions of sister Super Dana,
I got to watch the whole thing via web-cam and the Internet (thanks for inspiring the idea, Kim!).

(And when I say whole thing, I mean whole thing...from the picture taking in the background to the nose itching in the foreground...whole thing! Lesson learned: when on web cam, wear a high neck shirt, remember strangers are watching, and don't touch nose...)

It was awesome. Or 4w350m3, as my computer-savvy brothers might say :+)=!
Here is a recap of some of those awesome moments from Merrit and Matt's wedding:

The first 45 minutes of online chatting with my brothers, who were also watching 45 minutes of...nothing...with me. I'm being serious; it was fun!

The miracle of technology: I watched people talk on their cell phones as I talked to others on the computer while it streamed live video of a wedding taking place clear across the country from me. Amazing. Thank you, super smart people of the world.

People turning their back to us during photo ops mise-en-scene.

Dave welcoming the guests, and his beleaguered, "Um, I'm having a hard time hearing..." because Matt's sister (?)--who was amazing, by the way--was still singing her soulful, soundful rendition of "At Last."

Dave re-welcoming the guests, with his "compliments" to the songstress: "Uh, I thought that was real music, and I was just waiting for someone to push the pause button..."

My dad forgetting the words to the song he wrote. Typical.

My dad getting all emotional as he sang the song he wrote. Touching.

The flower girls--my two nieces and their cousin--coming to Grandpa's rescue and singing the song for him. Tremendously touching.

Merrit's song for Matt. Great lyrics to a great song, Merrit...especially the part about the proof of your shopping prowess, use of the phrase "brain stem," and the part about choosing Matt even though he was poor... So sentimental!

Merrit's succinct summation of her presentation with, "So...(pause, pause, pause,) yeah!"

Matt and Merrit singing "The Prayer" together. Man, that boy can sing! Merrit, you were pretty good, too!

Matt's one-upmanship of Merrit's temple picture. He blew that one out of the water with his one thousand million forty seven pictures/memories in one! All Merrit had was a postcard... All joking aside, seeing them both share the same surprise gift with one another was really one of the most endearing, special moments of all. It was truly lovely. See you guys in a year!

Matt wiping away some of Merrit's happy tears. That was tender.

Matt caressing Merrit's hand.

Merrit's hair. I mean, Merrit's Hair.

Rob scanning the room with the web cam during the musical numbers.

Lighting the candles. (Lindsay-Dave-Colin-Amy-Dana, do you remember ever seeing one of the Eastern European wedding waltzes done with candles? Oh, my beautiful.) It reminded me of an Eastern European wedding waltz done with lit candles...

Merrit leaning down towards the computer to say she loved us.

And, finally, the closing song: an electric guitar/rock star version of the wedding processional. Who knew?!

And who knows what wonderful things are yet to come? I'm excited to be a part of them all, one way or another. Thank you to all who made it possible.

*And why was I not there? you may ask.
Because tomorrow morning, *sob*sob*, we are taking Evan to college in Idaho.
Because tomorrow morning, *sob*sob*, life as my little family knows it, is going to change.
Because tomorrow morning, *sob*sob*, I will feel older, Evan will feel bolder, and the temperature will be much colder. At least until summer.

HUNGRY

2009-12-30T21:20:00.006-07:00

A song for you...

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
two cups of cocoa,
and a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
three cheese balls,
two cups of cocoa,
and a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
four frosty floats,
three cheese balls,
two cups of cocoa,
and a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
five chocolate ginger snaps (maybe seven?)!
Four frosty floats,
three cheese balls,
two cups of cocoa,
and a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
six coconut candies,
five chocolate ginger snaps (maybe 12?)!
Four frosty floats,
three cheese balls,
two cups of cocoa,
and a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

(fast forward to the last verse, shall we...)

Each day after Christmas, this is what I ate:
twelve strawb'ry twizzlers,
eleven cinnamon santas,
ten sweet gherkins,
nine cubes of cheddar,
eight bowls of chili,
seven cups of chowder,
six coconut candies,
five chocolate ginger snaps (at least)!
Four frosty floats,
three cheese balls,
two cups of cocoa,
and a bowl full of Swedish meatballs.

Hope your holidays have been as full as mine!

p.s. Does this song make me look fat?

IRREVERENT

2009-12-20T12:12:00.004-07:00

Greetings to those of you still doggedly hopeful enough to check in here...

I just got home from church, giggling all the way, because of several things:

One, church is over and a nap is imminent.
Two, a friend gave me both a ride home and a green Christmas cookie.
Three, Joshua was wearing his tie on his head.

I giggled through the last 20 minutes of church, as well, all due to the antics of an 11 year old boy in my Primary class. Usually this child does nothing but make me pull my hair out, but every now and then I may admit to the few sporadic moments of enjoyment he provides. Young Master M is one of those frustratingly interesting people who know just the right buttons to push...on everyone. He annoys the grown ups, he annoys the kids. He annoys his parents, he annoys the dogs.

But today he made me laugh.

In our Primary room there are some wooden blocks with cute paper letters pasted to them, displayed each week to read the word:

F A M I L Y

but when I came in the room just after Master M today, the blocks instead read:

IM A FLY.

The leader in charge, not paying any attention, simply moved the blocks closer together; but not before Claire, one of my favorite youngsters, looked at the crafty wordsmith and said, "Fine. Shoo, fly, don't bother me."

Awesome.

Also pretty entertaining was when Master M correctly answered a questioned directed to him, but then, when the leader of the discussion tried to elaborate, he interrupted her with, "Yeah, yeah. We got it. Can we move on now?"

I confess, I adore it when people say what I am thinking.

So, it's been a pretty good day so far. And now, my friends, I nap.

Rather than sugar plums, this just might be what I envision instead. It makes me giggle, too.

FULFILLED

2009-11-08T16:57:00.004-07:00

A dream come true...

Last night I was here
(forward FDD, row 22, aisle seat)

to see this

which was this.

Seats on the floor, next to my dear friend Rebecca,
it was a night to make my dreams come true. Michael even took us out to dinner beforehand!
(He then went to the movie theater to watch G.I. Joe...)

And everyone lived happily ever after.

GRATEFUL

2009-11-04T13:07:00.012-07:00

Here's to you, Lindsay!

Monday night the male counterparts and I got together for family night and made this:

A Gratitude Tree!

We each had several little tags upon which to name any variety of things for which we find ourselves particularly grateful. I then oh-so-artistically hung them upon a dead tree branch, put the branch into a vase of very cheap/after Halloween clearance priced/quite stale but still lovely candy corns, and stood back to admire our new centerpiece.

All artistry was lost on said male counterparts. However, the humor of some of the tags was not lost on me. Check this one out, written by the one son who doesn't have a cell phone:

I also smiled at the entries "snow," "my laptop," "all electronics," and "girls" (complete with smiley face). And of course my heart warmed to read, "Mom and Dad," along with four tags printed with the word "family."

(I'll admit to being the one who did not join the crowd on that one, having already inscribed my tags with words like, "lotion," "new clothes," and "toilet paper." Yeah, I'm some sort of shining example...)

But the tag that really made me stop and think was this one, written by Michael.

Do you think there is a tag anywhere on those dried and withered branches that says, "My wife," or "The woman who makes me all those wonderful meals I eat, and irons all those clothes I wear," or even just plain "Keri"!?

And yet the dog made it up there.

Serious cause for reflection.

But, the truth is, although I would NEVER IN MY LIFE have chosen to put Sadie on any list of any thing I'm grateful for, I will admit that my heart--materialistic as it may be--was touched that Michael chose to do so.

And, though I don't have too many pictures to prove it, I think these next few photos are pretty representative of how all the fine fellows I live with feel about the dog.

(I stepped in poo yesterday, right after vacuuming dog hair off a white rug, so don't even think of asking me how I feel about the dog.)

But, truth is (enough with the truth already!) I, on my own, would never have given my husband something that would have made him a happy and grateful man, would never have allowed my children the fun they have with the fur ball, and would never go outside half as much as I do now. And that means I never would have seen things like this:

or this

or this

.

So, there may be reasons to be grateful for Sadie after all.
May be.

My husband says so.

If you haven't got all the things you want,
be grateful for the things you don't have,
that you don't want.

I like that idea. Time to fill out some more tags!

ADDICTED

2009-10-26T19:48:00.001-06:00

Now that I am back from Mexico, back from St. George,
through being sick with not-quite-the-swine-flu-but-still-yucky-nonetheless,
and done teaching for two weeks straight,

all I have to say is

that I am addicted to these:

Pumpkin Spice Hershey Kisses. They are divine. I want to live a life so good that when I die I can go to heaven and subsist on nothing but Pumpkin Spice Hershey Kisses, Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory's white chocolate and cinnamon covered caramel apples, and the hot chocolate I drank on the cruise. Oh, and chips and salsa.

(It's a lovely thought to realize I can come so close to heaven while staying right here on earth!)

I would encourage all of you to run right out to your local Target to buy some of these seasonal delights,

but

some of you might live in Utah, and that means you would be depleting the amount of packages of Pumpkin Spice Hershey Kisses that are potentially mine.

So,

IF you live outside of Utah, happy shopping.

(And, yes, I do realize that it is selfish thoughts like above that will keep me from getting into heaven in due time. I guess I'll just have to eat my fill now.)

BUSY

2009-09-27T10:53:00.008-06:00

I've been busy.
And now I'm gone on a trip.

I was not busy getting ready for the trip
(until about two nights before we left).

I was busy doing this:

Me: watching
Boys: playing

Doing this:

(I love it when my bangs look this good!)

And doing this:

Making witches.
It turned me in to one, too.

Especially when I looked up and saw the clock.
This is in the a.m.
And was about 25 minutes before I finally got to bed.

So that I could wake up at 6 o'clock
in the a.m.
for more of this:

and this:

Now that I'm on a trip,
I am just looking forward to this:

and this:

I won't be busy.

Adios, amigos y amigas. See you in a week.

CAPABLE

2009-09-15T11:53:00.001-06:00

It can be done, folks! It can be done!

2009-09-04T11:12:00.002-06:00

Didn't I tell you?

I should not bake.

Ever.

NOT CHEF-BOYARDEE

2009-09-03T11:56:00.003-06:00

I should not bake. Ever.

Whenever I do bake, I do things like...
Add a teaspoon of red chili pepper instead of ground cinnamon. What?! They're almost the same color, and they were right next to each other on the shelf! It could happen to anyone (except my Aunt Laurie)!
But, man, that was one nasty apple pie.

I always think ahead and double the recipe so that we can have extra to eat.
At least there would be extra, if I didn't always forget that I was baking food and not charcoal briquettes.

And, just so you know (because apparently I didn't),
plastic trays, no matter how hard they may appear, do not work as cookie sheets in a conventional oven.
They will, however, create some awesome art pieces, if you like that sort of thing (and if you don't need your oven racks anymore).

Mostly, we don't like that sort of thing. And we also don't like eating charcoal briquettes.
But,
that's what we have around here.

Even when I'm extra super conscientious,
and
make sure I have all the proper ingredients,
correctly measure out all the proper ingredients, and
follow the directions step by step rather than adhere to my usual dump-and serve method,

something still happens, like
the phone rings, or
the dog pees,
or I forget to check the temperature settings on the stove,
and we get this:

in place of real banana bread. (Once I cut away the crusty parts, the insides were still good!)

And my family continues to have me (and a lot of blackened baked goods)
instead of my Aunt Laurie, or Lindsay, or Chef Boyardee.

Won't somebody please, please, take pity on us,
and bake us a plate of done-right cookies?!

ANGRRRRRY

2009-09-02T22:58:00.003-06:00

The dog ate my doll.
My pristine, beautiful doll brought home from China (thank you, Lindsay) more than a decade ago.
Snarfed. Munched. Mangled.

Grrrrr.

The dog peed on my music books.

Grrrrrrrr.

The dog peed (again) on my music books.
And under the piano bench.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

And to think that yesterday I had the heady idea that things were actually going better with the dog.

Grrrrrrrrrreat. Not only am I cleaning up a lot of puppy pee, but I am also quite delusional.

WISHING SOMEONE WELL

2009-09-01T12:43:00.003-06:00

While I was in Colorado we found out about a baby that needed a home.
We wanted to be that baby's home.

Long story, short, the baby's mom picked someone else.
Then,

Yesterday, we got another phone call. The baby had been placed back with the mother, and she wanted to meet with us as potential parents.

Short story, even shorter, the baby's mom picked someone else before our 3:00 appointment even came. She decided to go with a couple she had met that morning.

Let me say, I am thrilled for that couple. I am thrilled for that baby.
I am proud of that mother.
May they all be awash in love.

May I also say, as much as I may like roller-coasters,
I hate them when they involve my heart. Yech. I think I much prefer the boring safety of status-quo.

Especially because, let's face it, I'm already awash in love.
How lucky can a girl get?

WABISABI

2009-08-25T12:20:00.000-06:00

Some words just work better in another language.

We're home from our trip.
School started today.
And I am wabisabi.

What Is Wabi-Sabi?

"Pared down to its barest essence, wabi-sabi is the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in nature, of accepting the natural cycle ..."

Have a good year, boys...

IN COLORADO: DAY 7 1/2

2009-08-22T23:40:00.000-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

Beauty.

My sweet niece is the one and only girl cousin in Colorado.
With 6 boys around even before my 3 show up, there might be times she feels a little left out.

This time we left the boys out! It was no-boys-allowed as we gave each other make-overs.

I'm not sure that the M.A.C. lady made me any prettier.
(She charged me a lot more money, though!)

Beautiful.

IN COLORADO: DAY 7

2009-08-22T22:27:00.006-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

Bike rides.

Everyday, some form of "we" took a bike ride. Sometimes it was Grandma, Keri, Evan, Lane, and Josh.

Sometimes it was Lane and Josh.

Sometimes it was Mom and Josh.

Sometimes it was Mom and Keri.

Sometimes it was Grandma, Keri, and Josh.

And once it was Grandma, Keri, Evan, and Josh.

Grandpa kept the bikes fixed. And we kept the bikes rode. Ridden. Whatever.
Thanks, Grandpa.

Sometimes we went to the Mall. Sometimes we went to a park. Sometimes we went Downtown.

Sometimes we just went.

We shopped. We ate. We pretended to exercise off what we ate.

The ducks ate, and didn't gain a single pound.

We venimus, vidimus, vicimus-ed.

And always looked forward to more.

A super shout-out goes to the city of Ft. Collins for their awesome --and I do mean awesome -- system of bike trails throughout the area.

IN COLORADO: DAY 6

2009-08-21T22:11:00.006-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

To go to Water World.
At least that was the plan...

This was the reality:

Oops.

That "oops" wasn't nearly so funny as this one:

Somehow Joshua managed to get himself knotted up in the seat-belt. Hee hee!

Just how naughty is it to sit there and laugh 'til you're crying when your son is stuck in a truck with no luck of ... un-stuck-ing himself?
Not that I'd ever do that.

But Michael might.

Buh-Bye, Denver. See you next year.
(But before August 19th, I guess.)

IN COLORADO: DAY 5

2009-08-20T21:39:00.002-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

I'm not sure that any place smells as good as Ft. Collins, and I'm pretty sure that's because of all the yummy food here.

My parents' house smells of chopped onions and celery cooking on the stove top. It smells of bacon and pancakes, eggs cooked to order, and ripe, red watermelon always cut and ready for the eating. It smells of homemade cookies in the cookie jar, homemade bread in the bread bin, and homemade jam to spread all over it. It smells of hamburgers on the grill and hot dogs blackened to perfection. It smells of fresh produce from the garden and Dad's never-ending supply of trail mix in the pantry. It smells like heaven.

(My parents' house also smells of Sunday cologne and Jergen's lotion. Two more smells of heaven, sometimes so yummy, I think they just might be edible.)

Stepping outside, Ft. Collins smells of fresh cut grass, open fields by the bike path, rampant cascades of blossoming flowers, and just enough sun and shade to make eating outside a celestial activity. Frequent participation: mandatory.

(Note the strawberries stuck above his lip...hilarious!)

La Luz, Young's, The New Saigon, Chick-a-Flick, Kilwin's, Walrus Ice Cream, DQ, Cinzetti's, and more...the restaurants around here are to die for. And then you really will be in heaven.

Yum!

IN COLORADO: DAY 4

2009-08-19T22:56:00.001-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

If your dad had all the tools
and all the know how
and all the magic patience needed
to teach your teen-age son how to use those tools

to make 10,
no 8,
how about 4,
okay, 6

sets of pipe chimes for a local elementary school
in order to finally complete Lane's Eagle Scout Project,

wouldn't you make the 8 hour drive
to make that happen?

Me, too.

Thanks, Dad.

Super Gracias-es to Helpers
Kim, Caleb, Trent, Alec, Mark,
Evan, Joshua, Spencer, and me!
And a very special thanks to Jeremy's drill press,
without which
we would be forever working on these dumb things.

IN COLORADO: DAY 3

2009-08-18T23:15:00.002-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

Quiddler, game 1: lost
Quiddler, game 2: lost
Quiddler, game 3: lost
Fluxx, practice game: won
Fluxx, game 1: lost
Fluxx, game 2: lost
Fluxx, game 3: lost
Fluxx, game 4: lost
SpeedUno, game 1: lost
SpeedUno, game 2: lost
SpeedUno, game 3: lost
Settlers of Catan, game 1: lost
Rummikub, game 1: lost
Rummikub, game 2: lost
Hand and Foot, game 1: lost
Cucumber, game 1: WON!!!

Like the Phoenix from her ashes,
the inner-gamer in me rises once again...
I live to play--and lose--and cry;
tomorrow is another game!

IN COLORADO: DAY 2

2009-08-17T22:29:00.016-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

for the annual awesomest talent show around,
of course!

There were numerous entries this year, each of them a
grand prize winner.

We thrilled over daddy-daughter duets done by proud papas and their beaming beauties,

tickled ourselves pink with the tickled ivories of grandsons extraordinaire,

learned a few fabulous moves from the studly son who performed some sort of special somersault+Billy Blanks style push up,

the studly son who moon walked with his dad (complete with one glove each, you might note),

and the studly son who had all the moves with all the ladies.

Yet another somebody's son took the landslide win for cutest baby of the night.
Maybe even the week (my niece "Claire" would be stiff competition any later than that...).

The disco babes rocked out loud and proud,

and the braniac wooed and wowed.

Joel and Jalyn took the cake (but brought the brownies),

and Dan

was Dan. (It's a good thing!)

We laughed.
We cheered.
We loved
each thing we heared.

And I, by the way, continue to reign as
"Girl Who Looks Most Like Her Mother."

Yep, I win.

Forget America, NBC: It's Colorado that's got talent!

IN COLORADO: DAY 1

2009-08-16T22:21:00.008-06:00

Why we come to Colorado:

Six little cousins sitting on the floor.
It's so much fun, we can't wait for more!
(Cousins, that is, and friends galore.)
A whole week of fun is what's in store.

Hooray for Ft. Fun!
(P.S. we miss you, Hon.)

BEFUDDLED

2009-07-30T12:30:00.005-06:00

I LOVE So You Think You Can Dance.

Love it. Want to marry it.
Am willing to skip just about anything else in life just to watch it.

But who in the world is Lil' C
and why does he keep showing up on my favorite dance show????!

Beyond that, once he's there,
why do they let him talk?

Lil' C: "Uh, yeah...Uh, when you come to a new, uh, new genre, then you are, uh, in a place that represents darkness. Yeah, it represents darkness and what's unfamiyah..."

Dancers stare at Lil C' uncomprehendingly.

Lil' C: "So, yeah, you are where it's unfamiyah and you have to see. You have to see with your ears."

Dancers continue to stare blankly.

Lil' C: "Until you, yeah, see with your ears, and when you see with your ears in a new genre that's when you're in that place that's darkness. That's unfamiyah."

Cat Deeley: "Okay, then. Mary, was it a dark place for you?"

Mary: Screams.

Later...

Lil' C: You guys were amazing. Yeah, amazing, but I needed more.

Dancers attempt to nod as though understanding.

Lil' C: So, uh, you got synchronicity. You got sameness and yeah, but you gotta' show you're different. The stage is that empty place. Like a bowl. Yeah, uh, the stage is your bowl and you still gotta' eat. Yeah, cuz' you're different, but you gotta' eat.

Dancers stare in dazed stupor.

And then, my favorite part of the evening...

Cat Deeley: I'm not quite sure what you just said, but I think I'm starting to get hungry.

That was uh, yeah, awesome, Cat Deeley. You and your silky tresses ROCK ON!
And please, someone vote Lil' C off the show! The rest of the dancers CAN STAY!

REJECTED

2009-07-29T08:12:00.004-06:00

Ouch.

I wasn't cast in the latest show I auditioned for.
It hurts my heart to tell you that.
It hurts my heart to tell myself that.

Why wouldn't they want me?!

I can't help but wonder...
was it my singing?
was it my dancing?
was it my reading?
was it me?
didn't I smile enough?
did I smile too much?
didn't I comb my hair?
didn't I wear deodorant?
am I too old?
am I too fat?
am I too tall?
am I too short?
am I too me?

Why wouldn't they want me???!!!

(And then the mean side of me asks...
why would they want her? or her? or her?)

Now you know (some more of) how rotten I am.
And that they didn't want me.

Was it because I'm rotten?

Okay. As long as I'm telling all,
I should also let you know that I think that this is a good thing for me, too.

It helps me
not get too complacent or cocky,
not let the theater become quite so all-encompassing,
remember to wear deodorant,
to go to the gym,
and to be happy for her, and her, and her, whoever she may be.
She is going to have a great time doing a show.

And, really, this is not the worst thing that could happen in life.
(After all, my husband could bring home another puppy.)

Besides all that,
I am now freed up to be super soccer mom of the season.
It's a good thing.

Kinda' like that saying,

when a door closes, a window opens...

(But let's be real: why would anyone prefer the window to the door?)

INFESTED

2009-07-28T07:59:00.009-06:00

While making lunches for the working men of this family, I found two boxes of granola bars,

empty;

one cracker box,

empty;

and the chip bag,

empty.

Not one of these empty things did I find in the garbage can, where empty things belong.

What sort of insanity made me ask who was responsible?!

Isn't it obvious? Pesky old "Not Me" has made residence in our residence.
My poor parents tried to kick Not Me out of their house years ago. They must have finally met with success.

It's either that, or rats.
That's what Evan suggested when we asked all three boys about the cleanly opened, nearly empty graham cracker box hidden in the storage room. Yes. It could be rats. Very smart, very dexterous rats.
I'm not sure that's better.

Ah, well. That's

Not quite empty.

MOVING ON. MAYBE.

2009-07-25T08:14:00.000-06:00

The 24th of July is a big deal around these here parts. There's a parade. There are picnics. There are sales at places like RC Willey.
And it's all to remember the pioneers who made their entrance into the Salt Lake Valley some 150 years ago.

Thank you, Pioneers. There would be no life on Renoir Circle without you.
Or even any RC Willey stores.

And there wouldn't have been the Children's Parade a week earlier.
Joshua was invited to participate, which he did, only slightly in cognito.

No joke. He marched the whole parade path like that.

Oh so very Joshua.

I also enjoyed seeing

the colorful chain links around the temple representing forever families,

the television sets honoring Philo T. Farnsworth (all sets tuned to General Conference),

and
the float inspired by the movie "Up." Ingenious reminder that temples "lift us UP where we belong."

I couldn't help but laugh at the entry entreating us all to catch the reading bug.

It showed any Mormon's perfect reading selection: "The Book of Mormon" and "Twilight." Ha!

Certainly my favorite part of the parade was the one done by our Stake Primary. Their theme was "Never Give Up," and they depicted the hardships endured by the handcart pioneers on their trek across Wyoming.

I also like the person I watched the parade with.
He is kind of nice.

UNDONE

2009-07-21T08:41:00.004-06:00

This is what I came home to Saturday night.

This is how it made me feel.
(Although this was taken Saturday at the parade, even before the peace offering...)

All day Sunday, my husband was forgiven,
and the dog was allowed to live.

This is what I woke up to Monday morning.

Sadly, I admit, that red couch really does mean more to me than just about anything else.

And I'm not sure I'm ready to re-prioritize. So, here we go again.

Monday I came home to more Sees candy.
(Thank you, Michael.)

That dog is gonna' make me fat.

BEYOND DONE

2009-07-12T13:35:00.001-06:00

Berber Carpet Incident #4

There are. no. words.

VERY DONE

2009-07-08T16:20:00.005-06:00

Remember Berber Carpet Incident #1? The saga continues.

Berber Carpet Incident #2

Berber Carpet Incident #3

Close to what Keri looked like upon
spying said incidents.
(My mouth was opened much larger,
and I believe there was smoke
coming out of my eyes...
My hair was probably that cute, though...)

P.S. Honey, if you are reading this...just a note to you that when I say, "Flowers and Chocolate," I really do mean flowers and chocolate. For reals. Huge bouquet. Big box (preferably Sees). I'm still waiting. $20 flip flops are not going to cut it.

P.P.S. Mom, are you sure we're still invited for that visit?

DONE

2009-07-06T15:58:00.003-06:00

Can I tell you just how much I DON'T enjoy having a dog?
No, I cannot. There are no words.

Moving on...

I went to another funeral today.
What a difference a (long and well-lived) life makes.

I attended the funeral service for a lovely lady who lived in our neighborhood. Geniel Hanson lived to be 92 beautiful years old. Now that's a lot of life!

I got to know Geniel from the few months that I thought I would enjoy attending "Daughters of Utah Pioneers" meetings. I didn't much like the meetings, but I sure did like her. It turned out that she didn't live too far away from us, so I got to see her from time to time, mostly when she was out in her yard. This lady sure did like to be out in her yard. Crazy.

This lady also liked to smile. She was always smiling. And I do mean always. I don't think she was crazy, just a little over-come with sun-stroke, I suppose. And happy. It's a good way to be.

Yet another person worthy of emulation. I'm smiling right now in honor of Geniel.
And because the dog is somewhere away from me at the moment.

TEARY

2009-07-02T12:51:00.004-06:00

I just attended a funeral for a boy I've never met.
It made me teary.

The Thomas family flew to Utah from Maine to celebrate their daughter's wedding. The next day, their 16-year-old son Clayton died from carbon monoxide poisoning at the family cabin.

Certainly their family will never be the same again.

And, if this young man's funeral means anything, I hope the same can be said of me.

I went to the funeral as a "representative" of my sister Dana and the Ft. Collins family Slade. You see, before moving to Falmouth, Maine the Thomas family lived in Ft. Collins and were members of the same ward (church congregation) my family attends. Nancy, the mom, was my sister's Young Women's leader, and although I was long gone by this time, I still heard many a story and effusive chorus of praise about Dana's Young Women's leader. She played an awesome part in my sister's life.

So, when Dana called me yesterday and told me the situation, I knew I had to be there. For Dana and Rob. They'd do the same for me anywhere, anytime.

May I just say, I was honored to be present at this young man's funeral. I am touched by his goodness, even greatness. His family was blessed to have him. I am lucky to have heard about him.

Beyond that, I am lucky and blessed by the tender reminder today of God's love and plan for each of us. There are times that life seems so very unfair and so utterly chaotic that it's difficult to believe there is a purpose and plan in the inevitable pain we all suffer at some point (many points), and to some degree.

But,

There is. I feel it inside.

Paraphrasing some of the speakers, here's what I was reminded of today:
Before we were born, each of us was taught about the coming life we would experience if we chose to accept God's plan and, with it, mortality. We knew that on Earth we would feel joy, and sorrow. Success, and disappointment. Happiness, and heartache. We knew that this life would be a trial, a test of sorts, to help us to grow and reach our personal potential. This is God's great plan, a plan of happiness. A plan of progress. We fall, we get up. We stretch, and we grow.

We also make mistakes. Sometimes painful ones. Sometimes things hurt us. Sometimes we hurt ourselves. But always, there is a way through the pain. Always, that way can be through our Savior, Jesus Christ. We can be better despite our pain, and because of His. God's plan is a plan of redemption. God's plan makes us more than we would be by ourselves.

Today we gathered with a family in pain. We gathered, with hugs and tears, to bear each other up under the burden of things that happen in life. We were there, we are here, because of God's plan. And it was the right place to be.

An aunt said it well. "Today we are here because of that plan. We accepted it, knowing full well what it would bring us. Now it is our duty to accept, with faith, the consequences that are beyond our control."

I've never met this boy, Clayton Thomas. I'm not even sure if I've ever met the Thomas parents, although I did do a brief stint of floor staining in Maine with Whitney and Dallin last summer. However, in consequence of this boy's great life I was moved to tears; not just tears of sadness and pain for the family, but tears of the deepest tenderness and love. I do know that Jesus Christ lives and loves me. I do know that God has a plan for us all. I do know that we are not left alone. Clayton knew that too, and lived a life full of zest, kindness, and radiance because of it. He modeled his life after the Savior, Jesus Christ, and I would like to try to do that, too.

Thank you, Clayton. You will be missed. Hopefully, you will be emulated.

WELL-EDUCATED

2009-07-01T22:01:00.008-06:00

While on the way home from Joshua's morning soccer practice today, the young son made some comment about how he hated "versing" one of the other boys.

"Versing?" I laughed. "That's a great word, Joshua. Versing."
"What?" he exclaimed, "What's wrong with it?"

Apparently, and according to Joshua, if you look in any dictionary you will find "versing" right there on the same page as "verse," "versus," and "versatility."

"It's a real word, Mom. You just have to know how to use it."

I lie not. These are all direct quotes.

"And," he went on to inform me, "When you get stuck versing with someone you hate to be with, you have 'verstipation.' It's kinda' like when you have to go to the bathroom and (well, you know the rest)... I was totally verstipated today."

May all your children be as well versed as mine.

REPLACED

2009-06-26T18:17:00.007-06:00

My husband is in love with another girl.

Her name is Sadie.

(Or, whenever she's alone with me, Cujo.)

I first saw the level of Michael's devotion when I shopped out a new pair of flip-flops for me.

"20 bucks for a pair of flip-flops?" he gasped.
"Dog for you. Flip-flops for me."
He paid without another wag of the lips, or tail, as the case may be.

Then, I've watched morning after early morning as Michael gets up to take care of the dog. As in, 5:45 am in the early morning.
Michael doesn't do early mornings.

Michael scrapped his hiking itinerary during our southernly sojourn to St. George, just to accomodate the puppy who wasn't allowed in Zion's National Park.
Michael doesn't scrap plans, especially plans that either annoy (i.e. time share presentations) or scare the scrap (read: Angel's Landing) out of me.

And, Michael bought special treats for the dog. At full price. That he keeps in the fridge. (Gross. Scarily enough, I had curiously wondered who had given us a sausage roll, and what I should make with it for dinner...)
Michael doesn't buy special treats. Michael doesn't do full price.
And I'm playing it safe and going vegetarian.

But I really, really knew Michael and his heart were gone-ers when I found a 5-inch patch of berber carpet that the dog had unraveled.

"Keri," he said, when I bemoaned the state of my sitting room floor, "We've had this carpet for almost 10 years! You've got to expect that things are going to happen."

This, from the man who railed against the repair man when he told us our 40-some-year-old heater had heated its last.
"They just don't make things the way they used to, " he lamented. "My parents' heater has never broken down, and it's got to be at least 50 years old!"

Well, at least Michael has Sadie to keep him warm.

And I've got new flip-flops.

IGNORED

2009-06-12T14:33:00.006-06:00

Just like this blog, I have been ignored.

In consequence...
I now have both a delinquent blog,
and a brand new baby dog.

(Introducing the lovely Miss Sadie, Sadie, Puppy-dog Lady)

And Michael is going to have a very hefty amex bill,
paying for retribution therapy.

NOT RICH

2009-05-29T08:00:00.009-06:00

Once upon a time I had a paycheck.

"Boy, oh, boy!" I thought. "What in the world will I do with all this money?" (Think: shoes...)
Then

the fridge broke.
a car broke.
our car got broken into and my glasses were stolen (Glasses?! I mean really. What robber is going to wear my prescription glasses?!).
Joshua needed new shoes.
Lane needed new shoes.
(There went Keri's shoes)
Lane needed a physical.
Evan needed a physical.
my scooter broke.
the printer broke.
Evan needed an immunization.
Evan needed money for his grad night.
I got a ticket.
Lane had a band concert/fund raiser.
Joshua wanted to play comp league soccer.
Lane wanted to play comp league soccer.
Evan wanted to go on choir tour to California.
and the whole family wanted to eat dinner. Every night.
breakfast and lunch, too.
but
the freezer just broke. Again. No food and no money.

Moral of the story: she who asks the question will very quickly get an answer!

Rich, I am not.

However, I am also NOT POOR. I've got:

a new sister-in-law
a new niece
nephews who have recently decided that they love me
children who entertain me (anytime you need a laugh, have Lane do his pizza man impression!)
a husband who didn't get (too) mad when I used his new (I didn't know it was new!) tarp to do some spray painting
some newly spray painted kitchen chairs
a new (to me) hand me down watch
a new (opening in a week) show to do
a whole bag of tortilla chips to eat
a brand new thermeter, fan motor, and mother board for the fridge/a.k.a. a practically brand new fridge
and
a whole week of substituting coming up.

Life is rich. Thanks for letting me share it.

WOUNDED

2009-05-26T06:53:00.015-06:00

In an effort to make more memories with my children, I ventured out of my box and went four-wheeling with the fellows.

You can't even begin to imagine my excitement at starting the day on a non seat belted craft, pre-plastered (craft and children) with mud from the previous day's ride.

Once we got out into the sunlight, traveling through some greenery, able to see for miles around, I thought that I might actually, but not terribly so very much after all if it's on trails and not too bumpy and not for very long or going very fast, like this.

Then Lane asked, "Do we have to stay on these boring trails the whole time? Can't we do something fun?"

"Yeah, " said Evan, in his composer's man voice.

"Yeah!" said Joshua, in his I'll-do-anything-Lane-wants-to-do/scare-me-to-death voice.

"Oh, yeah!" thought Michael, in his I-wish-I-were-filming-a-Polaris-commercial-right-now, but-I-can't-afford-to-scare-my-wife-yet inner head voice.

"Uh. Hasn't this been fun?" asked Keri, taking deep breaths. Very, gulp, deep breaths.
(Begin hyperventilation now.)

Apparently not so much fun.

So, up some hills we climbed. Very fast.
Over some huge rocks we crawled. Very bumpy.
Through piles of shale we crackled. Very exhilarating. For a boy.
And then it was time to come down.

Terrifying.

And, just so you know, my fears were not completely without merit.

We did make it down.
But not without tipping one of the machines over, directly onto my leg.

I was the only one hurt, and I'm just bruised and sore; thankfully, not broken. Also, not so sure about this whole memory making thing.

Something tells me reading a book might be safer.

P.S. The boys' favorite part of the weekend? Saturday with their dad and cousin, or Monday's hackey sack game with Grandpa. Figures.

IN A QUANDARY

2009-05-21T07:58:00.003-06:00

What to do? What to do?

My kids want certain things. I want others.
How do I know which are the right choices?

Now, if it were a matter of "Should I let them drink arsenic, or should I let them drink water?"
I'd probably get that one right.
One would hope.

I'm hoping I can answer these.

My kids (including the biggest, tallest one) want a dog. I so don't.
Should I cave?

Lane wants to quit the school play so that he can play soccer year round.
(I realize I'm a little bit prejudiced towards the stage, but...) Should I let him?

Joshua wants to play on the soccer team that is far more intense than the one I'd pick for him.
It's also twice the cost. $500 twice the cost.
Should he do it?

Evan wants to run down our street naked, shouting, "I'm the King of the World!" at the top of his lungs.
Well, not really, but it sounded good. And I'd probably let him.
There aren't many people that live on our street.

Well, these and other mysteries are rattling around in my head.
Here's another: should I eat these stale jelly beans, or not?

Eat them. I should definitely eat them.

For help with all other matters (the jelly beans are now gone, so no more wondering about that!), please call 1-800-I'm-Bound-To-Make-My-Children-Hate-Me.

Then all I have to know is, "Should I answer the phone, or shouldn't I?" Ah, the questions never end...

REALLY DAZZLED

2009-05-20T07:30:00.012-06:00

Evan likes to compose music.

It is his identity.

He has a black zip-up hoodie from school, upon which he had the word "Composer" embroidered.
People ask him what he is going to do after graduation (Yikes! Is that really coming up so soon?) and he immediately replies, "Work on my composing."
When talking about what he will study in college he ignores all recommendations to focus on his general ed classes, and insists he must take composition 1 through 1000.

Being a composer is important to him.

Monday night there was a choir concert/talent show at the high school. Every year students audition to compete in this show. Several acts perform, and audience votes are tallied up at the end of the night to proclaim a winner who is then awarded with, as Evan would say, "Mula."

Evan was chosen to be in the show this year, playing, with two good friends of his, one of his compositions, arranged for three pianos.

This was very important to him.

(The sad truth is, I wasn't equally excited.
The sad truth is, I am not a very nice mother.)

After hearing him banging away on the piano for hours--if not years--on end, I have, admittedly, been more likely to remind him about doing his laundry than I have been to encourage him to pursue his passion.

Perhaps it's a good thing he generally ignores me. And that I do laundry.

Here is the video we took of Evan, dressed in a freshly washed tuxedo shirt and clean socks, wearing the black shoes I made him find rather than the brown ones he tried to walk out the door in, playing his song "Starburst." The video is muddy, shaky, and very long. But it's him.

So, not only was he chosen to be a part of the talent show,
not only did he and his friends perform beautifully,
not only did they receive a spontaneous standing ovation from the entire house,
but,
he also took first place, and got some "mula."

Congratulations, Evan. I mean, Composer.
It really was wonderful, and well-deserved. It was also very, very important.

DAZZLED

2009-05-19T11:05:00.006-06:00

This morning when I took a walk I saw:

orange poppies dropping their petals
tiny seed pods falling like snow
pollen from a pine tree glittering in the sun
rainbows in the sprinkler water
water reflecting silver as it overflowed the canal
dark purple lilacs with white borders
copious amounts of bright colored flowers
two neighbors out working in their yards

This morning when I took a walk I heard:

birds chirping
bees buzzing
leaves rustling
construction tractors tractoring
my iPod

This morning when I took a walk I smelled:

wet grass
warm dirt
hot pavement
budding pine boughs
purple and white lilacs
somebody's breakfast

This morning when I took a walk I felt:

warm sun on my arms and face
cool breezes playing on my skin
sweat trickling down my back
my aching right foot neuroma (can I tell you how glad I am to have an actual excuse not to run?!)
and
a rock in my shoe.

I can't wait to do this again tomorrow! It was rather dazzling.

UNDER PRESSURE

2009-05-18T06:50:00.005-06:00

Friends, Romans, Countrymen...Lend me your ears...I mean, eyes...

I am feeling the pressure.

First, my mom begs a few more posts.
Next, my sister calls and asks, "Wouldn't you like to write professionally?"
Then, some OoF (Out of Family) readers (I think there are about 3 of you) tell me they LAUGHED...out loud...at my blog.

And now I'm stymied.

I have nothing funny to write.

Let's see...there was that time that I subbed in sixth grade...
No. That wasn't funny. That was tiring.

Then there was that time I went to rehearsal...
Nope. Not funny either.

Oh, I got it! Once, I went shopping and...
Uh, uh. Not gonna' cut it.
Not unless spending money makes you laugh (and since Michael is part of my IF --and if-fy-- readership, I'm going to guess not).

I am all out of wit.

I will try to do something lame, like make fun of a deaf-girl, sometime soon. But until then, I'm afraid you're stuck with boring. It's what I do best.

Ask my kids.

HONORED

2009-05-10T16:36:00.017-06:00

Now, I know there are those out there who detest this day and its tradition of honoring "Mother," but I'm not one of them. Possibly it's because I, myself, have an amazing Mother (thanks, Mom), and it's nice to think of her. It might be because I actually like getting the geranium at church. But mostly I think it's because when else would I get to witness such glorious sights as these?

Michael doing dishes (AND the laundry, I might add).

Joshua and his hand-made creation.

Lane getting me some food from downstairs WITHOUT complaining
(and only 3 reminders).

Evan at the computer. (Oh. I suppose that's an Anytime deal.)

Yes, it's been a lovely day, and it's not even 5 o'clock yet! I can't wait for dinner, and what I can only presume will bring the additional gift of all the men doing the dishes. Oh, what a beautiful sight.

In honor of the day, let me share a few recent, top-rate, choice experiences I've had lately in being a mother to my particular three.

Joshua
Earlier this week there was a day that I put my make-up on and was actually quite pleased with the results. I'll be honest; I thought I looked pretty.
Not too many moments after this happy discovery, Joshua came into the bathroom, took one look at me and said, "Why do you do that to yourself? You look all bumpy (his word, not mine)."

He then proceeded to dissect my face with his delightful descriptions of my handiwork, none of them complimentary.

Not having any time to rectify the situation, I left for the day. Amazingly, I got quite a few compliments on how pretty I looked.

Not one (other) person told me I looked "bumpy."

Lane
Recently there was a happening game of beach volleyball along the sandy shores of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Sorry you missed it.

Lane was one of the players, put on a team with some of God's great handiwork: two bodybuilding models vacationing there on their honeymoon.

After the game Lane asked me, "Did you see that blond girl on our volleyball team?"

"Yep," I replied, "I was there. She was awfully pretty, wasn't she?"

"She was HOT! That is exactly the kind of girl that I want to marry."

"I suppose you could do that, Lane."

"Really?"

"Well, you do have some say in who you marry, so you could probably pick someone really pretty to marry."

"That's good. For some reason I always thought I would end up with some ugly chick as my wife."

"I'm glad you can stop that from happening."

"Yeah. Me, too."

Evan
Just for curiosity's sake I asked a car-full of my men what they would do if I chose to stay home to nap and watch chick-flicks instead of going to Farmor's (Michael's mother) house for Mother's Day dinner.
Evan was quick with his reply.

"Of course we'd stay home to spend time with you. Right after we got back from Farmor's."

I feel so loved.

Actually, I do feel loved. If not always by my children, then at least by my Heavenly Father, who gave them to me.

And, if not always loved, at least always lucky. There's bound to be something to laugh about sooner or later!

(i.e. Lane's pink fingernails. I have no explanation.)

Happy Mother's Day!
(Yes, I know one of these boys is not my own, but I'd claim Alex any day!)

NOT SKINNY

2009-04-21T15:15:00.000-06:00

I am not skinny.
I'm not saying I'm fat; I'm just not skinny.

I am somewhere along the lines of slim, with the addition of two lovely, large, very curvaceous, space-filling...HIPS!

Why on earth, you might ask, am I even thinking of such a silly thing?
One, because my mom keeps hounding me to write something...anything...Just post already!
and
Two, because I went to my ZUMBA class again.

Finally, I've found a place for my hips.

A story for you:
One day I went to ZUMBA class, all prepared and excited to swivel those mighty hips of mine to some Latin merengue, when in walked one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. You know the type: tall, skinny, perfect nose, perfect teeth, golden rope of braided blonde hair hanging down her back, and no hips.

Throughout class I tried to be oblivious and keep my eyes on the instructor, but I kept getting distracted by that pretty girl.

No, it's not like that!
It's just that the pretty girl COULDN'T DANCE!!
She may wear size zero pants and have never had a single zit--EVER-- but that girl couldn't keep the beat to save her life!

And with that fine observation, I swayed and swerved, swooshed and stepped all the more enthusiastically...and right on beat, I might add.

Then, during a drink break, Pretty-girl and I headed the same direction for our water bottles.
As she bent down to pick hers up, I noticed something else about her.
Hearing Aids.
Pretty-girl is deaf.

Keri is a lame-o.

End of story.

Except that it's not. Today I went to my spinning class. And in walked who could only be Pretty-girl's twin sister. Tall, skinny, perfect nose, perfect teeth, thick blonde pony-tail cascading down her back, and no hips.

She even bicycled well...