All Girl

I learned something profound at Preschool graduation this week. Are you ready? Boys and girls are different!

Okay, so I realize no one is about to call the newspapers or anything, but I'll tell you what inspired this particular insight.

At the end of Preschool graduation, all the moms and kids gathered to watch a video of pictures taken throughout the year. Anna and her friends enjoyed this as only preschoolers can...I don't know of any other age group who loves seeing pictures of themselves more. After the movie was over, Anna suddenly erupted into tears. I held her and asked her what was wrong, she responded, "That movie made me feel sad inside."

To be honest, the movie made me feel pretty sad inside too. My baby is headed for Kindergarten. But it surprised me how she picked up on this bittersweet thing we call change at such a young age. Especially when I compare this experience with her brothers.

The thought of them crying over a photo montage at the age of 4 is downright laughable.

Now the outcome of a Diamondbacks game is another matter entirely.

The Element of Suprise

Since my kids were little I've had big dreams...BIG dreams about what I was going to do when they turned 12. It seems like such a big important age, but our society is lacking in coming of age traditions...so we decided to invent one of our own...the surprise trip.

We decided that Dad would "kidnap" the birthday boy...or eventually girl..and take them somewhere great...just the two of them. We would tailor the trip around the child's interests, and make a great memory. Dad-bonding with a 12-year-old is pretty high on my list of priorities.

So last Saturday we got to participate in covert ops 101 as we very sneakily planned and executed Zachary's special trip. He's obsessed with sports, so some kind of game was a requirement in the plan. After checking baseball schedules and seating options, we settled on a Saturday Night game at the San Diego Padres stadium. We got fabulous tickets. Then we booked a morning flight and decided to leave the day-time activity up to the boy. Dad would give him his options during the flight, and they would head directly wherever he wanted to go once they landed.

Here's where it gets fun. We woke him up early on Saturday morning...he was exceedingly grouchy. He complained that Saturday is the only day he ever gets to sleep in! (tee-hee!) While he was eating breakfast, I sneaked into his room and packed his things. We told him he was going somewhere special with Dad for his birthday. Aunt Kim showed up and loaded the passengers for the airport. Then they were off!

En route, Zachary settled on Legoland for the day. So Dad and son had a full day at the park, ate dinner, and headed into town for the game in the evening. It went 16 innings! Definitely got our money's worth on those tickets. They settled into a hotel LATE that night, slept in the next morning (see Zachary...I've got your back) and flew home in the afternoon.

As they were sitting at the airport waiting to fly home, Zachary shyly hugged his dad and said, "Thanks Dad, this was fun." Mission accomplished!

I have only two regrets. 1-I forgot to send a camera with them, and 2-We'll never have that same shock factor with our other kiddos.

Deacon

Could I possibly be old enough to have a 12-year-old child?

I swear it was just a couple of years ago that I headed to the hospital, waddling in on swollen ankles. I even remember watching the Jazz play Portland that night in the NBA playoffs. That was especially sensitive of my husband to turn the TV to something that would help distract me from the pain of labor.

But here I am with a nearly teenager,...and the Jazz got knocked out of the playoffs in the first round this year. This means an initiation into Mutual night, Scout Camp, and Priesthood responsibilities. It's exciting and intimidating.

He is such a good boy. He is setting a wonderful example for his brothers. I love this uninhibited, brilliant, intense, funny, odd little boy...oops young man!

Oven Ready

I hope all of you mothers had a wonderful day yesterday filled with gratitude for your special role, and appreciation for the women who have influenced your life.

I had a nice day too. I want to establish that from the very beginning because the story I'm about to tell could easily be construed as complaining. I'm not complaining; it's just one of those moments in life that begs to be recorded.

"Once upon a time there was a mom of four children. She adored them all, and learned from them many valuable lessons about patience, charity, and cleaning up bodily fluids. She also had a loving husband who was a generous provider and a good father. They lived a happy life, only occasionally marred by the fact that in a household of six different individuals, chances are there is always at least one family member crying, moping, or making a mess.

Now once a year, this family set aside one day to celebrate and give thanks to this mom for all of her sacrifices and love. It was a good tradition filled with charming, child-made cards, dandelion bouquets, breakfast in bed and a reprieve from all chores. And there was dinner. What these dinners lacked in execution was usually made up for in enthusiasm. And although, sometimes there was a lapse in planning and preparation, the husband and the four children always managed to get a decent meal to the table eventually.

Then one year, this family got word that the special day that had been set aside would fall on a Fast Sunday. This meant any plans for breakfast in bed were scrapped. Not to fear...they would prepare an even more ambitious dinner that evening instead. They would make lasagna. The mom loved this dish and looked forward to sharing this special meal with her family.

After church, the family kindly sent their mom upstairs to take a nap and got to work on dinner. She gave Dad careful instructions about the procedure and recipe. He only ran into one problem. The only pasta he found in the house was labeled, "oven ready." His wife understood that oven ready noodles take a longer time in the oven and since it was a hot day, and they were all hungry from skipping two meals already she suggested he go ahead and boil them. Especially since Dad was not particularly fond of the results of oven cooked noodles anyway.

Then she cheerfully went off to bed where she curled up with a book and a delighted cat.

An hour and a half later, she emerged downstairs groggy and hungry. Her husband assured her dinner would be ready soon. He then proceeded to check the oven. He expressed concern that it didn't look right. Mom suggested that he remove the foil and let the casserole bake uncovered long enough to melt the cheese on top. He did this, and again expressed concern that it didn't look right.

With some anxiety, Mom came to check it out. The noodles on the top were rigid and crunchy. She asked her husband, "did you cook the noodles?"

He responded, "No, they're 'oven ready.'"

A note of panic crept into her voice, "So did you add water to the sauce and cover the pan with a double layer of foil?"

"You never told me to do that."

"But I did tell you to cook the noodles, right?"

The hungry mother could see this was going nowhere. She poured a cup of water over the entire dish, covered it tightly and put it back in the oven for 45 minutes. Even though she was starving, she was not unaware of the humor of the situation. So she spent the next 45 minutes laughing and crying at the same time. She had little faith that the remedy would save the dish, and was beginning to suggest back-up meals. But lo and behold, it worked...sort of. They only had to sacrifice one noodle.

After she ate and was restored to herself she couldn't help but say to her husband, "You do realize that we will talk about this meal on every Mother's Day from now until forever?"

I've Been Sprung

Spring has arrived in our backyard! Finally!

It's actually pretty unreasonable how much the weather affects my mood.

Quick Update

My kids have once again been off-track which has resulted in an absence from my blog (not to mention, my sanity). I spent the first week with family visiting here and the second week with the kids at my parent's home in Sparks, Nevada. I'm not wholly recuperated, but the kids went back to school today and I think I just might finally get to putting away the pack and play that has been set up in my basement for more than two weeks.

Zachary is preparing to turn 12 next week and could not be more excited. I'm excited too, as well as petrified...and feeling pretty old. We have made the decision to send him to an accelerated junior high school next fall. He is a little nervous about this, but has been won over to the school by the fact that they offer an elective called: Sports Literature. He has been really improving in his piano, and received a superior rating at Festival a few weeks ago.

Noah makes me laugh every day lately by his unique approach to life, the universe, and everything. He walks the dog every day with his eyes closed...literally...he walks down the street totally blind...haven't quite figured that one out yet. He is obsessed with books, especially fantasy series and can't get through a sentence without referring to something he has read. And he has taken on the role as Isaac's private baseball coach. He follows him up and down the field during games yelling out helpful suggestions like, "gunfighter position!" and "crocodile!" Then he races to bring him his bat and batting helmet when it's time. He's like a mixture between a boxing coach and a caddy. He also received superior ratings on his Festival piano pieces.

Isaac was so excited for his first baseball game that he was awake and dressed down to his cleats by 7:00 a.m...only 9 and 1/2 hours before the game. And then it was rained out. He has been living essentially outdoors ever since the weather finally turned warm. He marches up and down the levels of the yard, endlessly dreaming up imaginary activities.

Anna keeps me company with her sweet cuddling and keeps me laughing with her sassy speech. She told her aunt that the best way to get something you want, is to wait a little before Easter and then say it out loud because the Easter bunny can hear you. "Because, I said I wanted flip-flops and the Easter Bunny bringed them to my house!" She is preparing to perform in all her diva glory as a "worry bird" in her dance school's production of "The Wizard of Oz."