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."

Existentialism: If we don't take family photos, do we cease to exist as a family?

I think a posting on the process of taking family portraits has become the most ubiquitous entry in all of the blogosphere, and yet I feel compelled to add my own take on this bizarre ritual. Last year I gave the family a reprieve from the process; I just couldn't dig up the energy to fight. So I thought it would be easier this year since a. everyone in the family is now officially past the stage where they need a regular nap; b. they all understand basic directions given in English; c. the scars from previous photography traumas are distant enough to be faded almost out of memory; and d. because I said so.

In the end, we all got through the experience in one piece (more or less) and even managed to come away with a decent group shot. (It only took 119 frames, but we got it.) But every time I walk past our photo wall, I find myself wanting to yell, "Liars! Look at you smiling there! You look like such a happy, loving family, but I was there, remember! NONE of you were happy that day! NONE of you were loving!" But I keep my ranting on the inside. I just move on and remind myself that outside of photo studios we are a pretty happy and functional family.

Ah, remember the days when family pictures meant dealing with just these two. I remember actually getting stressed, STRESSED about what on earth we could wear. Ha! Those were the days.

Then a couple years into this whole family experiment we picked up this guy. And somewhere around his 5th year, he decided he no longer knew how to smile naturally. We tried interventions and counseling to no avail. We're stuck with the forced and cheesy smile from now until puberty wipes all smiling from his repertoire completely.

Then this guy came along...our most photogenic experiment of the bunch. And he hit third grade and decided to be known as "the boy who never smiles." Look closely, there's something a little scary about his eyes.

This one looks like a kidnapping victim trying to communicate his distress without drawing attention from his captor. Doesn't his face just scream, "help me?" And that grimace, I mean, er... smile.

Well, at least she isn't crying.

So you see what we have to work with? Now let's get them all together shall we?

Oh dear.

Nice eyebrows, Noah.

If only we could bottle Zachary's enthusiasm and sell it.


This is disturbing on so many levels.


I fear this is the picture of the beginning of a subversive conspiracy.

Oh my.

It seems like I'm posting a lot of pictures, but I have at least 10 more that I could have included that I edited out. They're even more amusing when I zoom in for a close-up.

Oh well, let's try just the boys.

On second thought, where are the girls?


Did I mention that I have 119 frames?

Phew! I feel better just getting this all out in the open. Now you all know the real story behind our carefully composed wall art. I now feel more genuine in offering a glimpse of this:

Ahhh, thanks for letting me get that purged from my system; I feel so much more honest now. I think maybe we'll wait to do family pictures again for a while--maybe when Zachary gets married.

Resolve

I love General Conference weekend. Only members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could possibly view 8 hours of church as a "break."

For me, this event is a twice-a-year pep-talk.

It goes something like this:

"Hey Cami! You sure are great, and I sure appreciate you. I think you have the potential to be even greater."

"Because I think so much of you, I've picked out a few areas where I can tell you need a little bit of help. I'm just pointing them out to you because I know how happy it will make you to improve on them...and because I know you are just so great that you really can make a change. Now don't judge yourself too harshly or get so critical of your own faults that you suddenly have to just sit down in the road. I'm going to help you."

"I'm going to help you by reminding you of many great blessings in your life that you may sometimes forget to acknowledge. And sometimes blessings don't look like blessings when you first come across them. Hang in there, it is totally going to be worth it."

"I'm also going to help by warning you of some pitfalls ahead. Don't worry, I'll help guide you on a safer course."

"Can I remind you again just how great you are? Can I point out to you some of your strengths now? This is why I know you have the potential to become even stronger."

"Hey, you're looking good. This next six months are going to be a lot of work, but you are going to be great, I know it. Stick with it and we'll fine tune all your abilities."

"It's going to be too hard to do all of this yourself, so make sure you check back in on a regular basis."

"Now get out there and do your best! You're gonna be great."

I come out of the weekend with a firmer commitment to live a better life. And if I could say anything to my weekend's "trainers" it would be, "thanks, I needed that."

Icky Padidddlekins

Okay, so technically my buddy Isaac turned 7 nine days ago, but hey who's counting? His actual birthday was the day of the Draper Temple Dedication which was a busy day to say the least, so we didn't get around to having his birthday party until a week later.

He wanted an Indiana Jones theme.

Huh?

So first to the guest list. Ideally, I wanted about 7 or 8 guests since they are after all 6 and 7-year-old boys, but it got tricky. There are 12 boys his age just in our neighborhood; there are 10 in his Primary class; there are 15 in his school class. There must have been something in the water back in 2001 that resulted in a surge of testosterone around these parts. So I asked him who he wanted to invite, and he of course picked the kids in his school class. Against my better judgment, I decided to let him invite ALL the boys from school. I figured a Saturday morning party would mean that several of them would have ball games and other activities that would conflict. And I was right. Only 12 of them managed to make it to the party.

If you're ever going to host an Indiana Jones themed party, just be warned. You're not going to find anything in the stores to help you out. So this is what we did. When the guests arrived, they were put to work making their own pizzas. We had delicious toppings for them like chilled monkey brains, and sliced baby cobras. We had "Raiders of the Lost Ark" playing in the background so that as they finished their pizzas at different rates, there was something to occupy their attention until all the guests had arrived. Ah, sweet television.

After the pizzas were done and cooking in the oven, we gathered and read the letter that Indiana Jones had left along with a piece of a map leading to a treasure. The map directed them to the first game where they had to wrap two mummies (with toilet paper) in order to discover the next piece of the map.

From there, they were directed outside to a hazardous obstacle course. If they were successful, the next piece of the map would be revealed. The obstacles included blowdarts, (q-tips dipped in paint and blown through a straw at a target) a walk across lettered blocks, (ala "Last Crusade") a snake pit, (the trampoline covered in rubber snakes they had to navigate around) a rolling boulder, (Cory with a beach ball) digging for diamonds in the lost "ark" (a cooler filled with sand and golfballs), and a run with a chalice. About halfway through, Zachary remarked, "This is a lot more fun than I thought it would be."

One of the "diamonds" had the clue to the next piece of the map. It led them to the first clue to a treasure hunt. The clues were all cut up into puzzle pieces, so they had to assemble the clue, read it, then search for the next puzzle. I left Cory in charge of this while I set up lunch. This turned out to be the trickiest part because as it turns out it is physically impossible for thirteen 6 and 7-year-olds to work together to assemble a puzzle. Somehow or other, they finally managed to find the "treasure" which was a treasure chest birthday cake.

(I forgot to take a picture until after the candles had been blown out and the cake had been cut.)

We had just enough time to eat lunch (pizza and "bug juice"), cake and ice cream, and open presents. All involved had a good time...with the exception of Anna who was mad the whole day because she was not allowed to participate.

Our birthday boy is such an easy-going, cheerful child to have around. He is purely a joy. He is a friend to everyone; especially his little sister, Anna. He is one of those people who it is always comfortable to have around. He is compliant and happy and good.

Happy birthday Isaac!

Ode to a Utah Spring

Oh March, you seductive vixen!
You bluster in with wild skies
a determined winter ready to make its last stand.
And when the tantrum is over
you turn shamefaced and meek.
And to atone for your brutish behavior
you tantalize us with a glimmer of freshness...
the scent of raw earth and early budding,
fair skies and mild afternoons,
peeks of early blossoms and daffodils.
Reluctantly I find myself amidst the enticement
daring to hope.
Casting off the shackles of a long, dark cold,
I'm persuaded to believe in flip-flops
and open windows
and fixed-up bicycles.
With tentative steps I emerge
from a weary hibernation.
You beckon me closer
with your clear countenance and winsome eyes.
And when my wavering hope is fixed and faithful belief,
You drop 4 inches of snow on my upturned face
on the 23rd day of your vindictive debut.

Mother's Intuition

Last Thursday morning, on the way out the door to school, Zachary asked me to come to his D.A.R.E. Graduation Assembly that morning at 11:00. Sure son, thanks for the notice. I told him that I had to take Anna to ballet that morning and the soonest I would make it there would be 11:30. On top of that, I had family coming to stay with us from St. George that afternoon, was baby-sitting a neighbor's friend, and to top things off, the garage door had just broken. Then I told him that the assembly would probably be really short, just a chance to hand out (meaningless) certificates. (Don't worry...I left out the meaningless.) By the time I got there, the whole thing would be over. (To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of the program anyway-- I think this contributed to my reluctance.)

He seemed resigned to my logic and left for school. Ten minutes later, the phone rang as I was heading out the door. It was Zachary. "Hey Mom! Mrs. Rose says the assembly will last an hour so you won't miss the whole thing." I told him again I had a really busy day, but I guess I could try to get there for the second half; I warned him not to get his hopes up. Then I started the mad dash of work and errands that is my life.

At 11:30, I pulled into the neighborhood in a panic of things left undone at home and decided to just drive past the school and go collect my neighbor's little boy and get home to my laundry. Something pricked my conscience as I neared the school, and in the last second, I pulled into the parking lot. After all, my nearly 12-year-old son actually WANTED me to come and participate with him in this. I should take advantage of this desire while it lasts.

I walked in with my gym clothes on and Anna still in her leotard, sat down, picked up a program and discovered Zachary's name was on it! Apparently all the sixth-graders had to write an essay about their experience in D.A.R.E. Then, the officer in charge selected one winner in each class who was awarded a medal and would get to read their essay to the group. Zachary's essay had won! He read his report with his typical uber-serious attitude, even going so far as to raise his hand in the air when he read his pledge to remain drug and alcohol free. It was SO completely Zachary...so full of his personality...so true to his voice. I found myself with many other parents in the room, chuckling at his examples and turns of phrase. This kid is just too good to be true.

I grabbed Zachary afterwards and asked him why he didn't tell me he had won. Apparently, he had been just as surprised as I was to find his name on the program. The officer just showed up to the assembly with the news. His teacher told me later, that the D.A.R.E. officer said it was the best essay he'd ever gotten; he made his entire precinct read it.

How horrible would I have felt if I had ignored that prompting to stop?

My Real Self

Just over a week ago, Cory made travel arrangements to go down to Phoenix for a hearing. Impulsively, I decided to buy a plane ticket as a birthday gift to myself and join him there. I engaged the services of my sister-in-law (thanks Kim!) and friend (thanks Bryn!) to keep my children supervised, and headed off fancy-free to the valley of the sun. It was a super-fast trip--I landed on Thursday night and left Saturday at dinner-time--but I did my best to pack a lot in a short time. I brought my camera, but was too busy enjoying myself to actually take any pictures.

It only took about 24 hours in town to realize this was maybe not a good idea. It was too wonderful! How would I ever go home again? February in Phoenix felt like that scene in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy walks out of the black and white world of Kansas into the technicolor vision of paradise. It all smelled so wonderful! Everything around me was viewed through the rosy-colored lenses of nostalgia. As I drove the streets, I knew exactly where I was and had a memory for every corner. I chatted long with old running friends and preschool friends and play-group friends out in the glorious outdoors. I visited with another friend in her home while chopping tomatoes for Youth Conference the following day. I attended the temple with my old ward and saw many familiar, friendly faces. Cory and I kept good friends up VERY late talking and laughing just like old times. On Saturday, we ate lunch at our favorite downtown dive (almost painfully delicious in every bite), visited with dear friends for what will be the last time in their Phoenix home as they prepare to move to San Antonio, and enjoyed a perfect afternoon at a Spring Training game. Then we stopped in at the best used bookstore anywhere, and managed to escape with only 4 books--pretty disciplined for the 2 of us, and finished the day off with ice cream. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I felt almost like I was re-discovering an old forgotten friend--myself...my Phoenix self. I flew home on Sunday both exhausted and refreshed.

I think I came home with fresh eyes. I came home that evening and had a wonderful time chatting with a fun and devoted sister-in-law. I spent Sunday afternoon visiting with two remarkable women in my Relief Society presidency. On Monday, I went on a preschool fieldtrip where I could rub shoulders with good and kind women who are wonderful examples and fun to talk to. That evening another friend stopped by to bring me a thoughtful birthday gift. I realized suddenly that I have been blessed to make good friends wherever I live. I don't think I have been grateful enough for that. It was good to go back and it was good to come home. I will always miss things about Phoenix, but I need to open my eyes to the good things that are around me in Draper too. And next time I go to Arizona, maybe I should do it in August.