I'm Still Here

I have spent the last two hours catching up on all my friends' blogs. Of course, I just got home from a week-long trip and have laundry, unpacking, and settling things to do. Of course, I'm getting ready to leave for another week-long trip in 3 days and have packing and cleaning and preparing to do. Of course, reading and laughing at blog entries all morning is probably not the most pressing priority on my list of things to do. But boy is it good to be back and to see that my regular life is still kicking. Not that I would say no to another week in Hawaii.

The End of an Era

Remember all the way back to the summer when I decided to deep clean every nook and cranny of my house? Well...summer's over, and I only managed the first 2 levels; the basement is still looming. In the crunch of back to school and after school, I have been putting off this final frontier for as long as possible, but this week I decided it's time to assault the mother-lode of mess, the big cahuna of clutter...that's right...the playroom. (Day 3...still no end in sight.) It's a good thing my kids are back in school because this has proven a great time to go through all the toys and get rid of the things that are broken or outgrown. For the most part this has filled me with unbridled glee (I have 3 garbage bags of toys sitting in my garage...shh, don't tell the kids!) but there have been a few partings that have caused me pangs of unexpected angst.

Like these guys.

These battle-worn veterans have rescued many a suffering pony, have opposed evil rivals in a war against freedom and won, and oh yes...have enjoyed several delightful tea parties. I'm sorry to see them go, but their box on the shelf is beginning to collect dust. They long to be in action, not sitting in a cubby, swapping stories of their glory days.

So, we will send them off to some other child's playroom where they can aid and assist and earn the name of "Rescue Hero" once more. Good luck guys; I almost think I could shed a tear over you.

And then there's these.

It hurts to think that there are no little boys interested in lining you up, motoring you around, and leaving you in exactly the right place so that everyone will trip on you. My heart aches when I realize that just 2 years ago Isaac could tell you the name of every truck in the Big Book of Trucks. Now he's more interested in pokemon. Au revoir, old friends.

This one feels like true sacrilege!

Cory grew up with the Hardy Boys, and I never intended to let these pass on, but Zachary and I tried reading one together and found they are so old-fashioned as to become almost incomprehensible. They use phrases like "stout chum" and "Hessian mercenary." They have been in the family for a while though, so it's hard to let them go...for now I am just boxing them up and saving them for my mother-in-law who might never forgive me if they end up in a rummage sale somewhere.

All of this sadness, I guess is just the result of a physical reminder that my kids are growing up.

And no, I'm not doing this to avoid actually working on the playroom...I just thought a proper eulogy would help me move on.

Things I Never Thought I'd Be an Expert At

I remember when I started college and took my first course list in hand to register for my first semester. It was such an exciting book of possibilities! I had already decided to major in Elementary Education, but there were so many classes I could take on the way to that final degree. I felt in total control of my future and the path of my own personal knowledge.

Now that I'm a lot older, and a little bit wiser, I find myself reflecting on the direction my knowledge and expertise have gone. (Well, maybe "expertise" is pushing it...) I have become "expert"--or a little more skilled-- in areas I never would have imagined. As it turns out, I didn't have as much control of this as I thought...life started happening and I started learning things out of necessity instead of what sounded good on a course list. The 18-year-old imagined a resume with items like, "curriculum design, conversational Italian, or classroom management." My real life resume is so far different, but strangely every bit as exciting as my imagination.

So here are some areas where I have gained if not "expert" status, at least a step above the amateur ranks.

Diaper Changing. Four children, and 10 years of bottom wiping have definitely elevated me to mastership of this particular challenge. I can change diapers in a car, in a gas station bathroom, on a beach, on an airplane, on my lap, with one hand, even with my eyes closed. I can make a 3 second determination on the number of wipes a particular change will use, and I know every trick to avoiding an open-diaper-accident. Although in the last year and a half I have retired from this particular field, it's akin to riding a bicycle...this knowledge is going with me to the grave.

Running. If you had told my college self that this would one day become my passion I would have laughed in your face. I don't do running. But now I live for it! I use words like fartlek, recovery time, weight-bearing cardio exercise, and bib in the proper context. My 4-year-old daughter was eating breakfast one morning when I got back from a run and nonchalantly asked, "How many miles did you do?" We live and breathe distance training in this household. I have recently come down with an overuse injury called trochanteric bursitis in my hip that has sidelined my running for the next couple of months as I recover, and I quite literally spent an entire day crying over the news. (Just ask my poor husband.) Now don't get me wrong, I love being a mother, but one of the things I love the most about running is that it's an identity I have that is completely unrelated to being a mom.

Trochanteric Bursitis.

ADHD. This is not a field that I have ever had any aspirations to become expert in, even as an educator. It has taken a long time to get through the denial, anger, and frustration phases of dealing with this, but I feel like I'm going to make it now. When I was pregnant with Zachary, I was finishing up my last semester at BYU, and taking a class called "Human Exceptionality." Every chapter dealt with a different syndrome, disability, or other special need. Every week I would read a chapter and then fret over whether or not my unborn baby was afflicted with that particular challenge. What if my baby has autism? What if my baby has down syndrome? etc. Strangely enough, I didn't have those same concerns when I read the chapter on ADHD. I don't know why I somehow thought my child would be less prone to this particular problem. Who knew? I'm still not an expert on this, but if knowledge is power, then I am doing my calisthenics every day by reading, researching, and taking district classes. I don't want to be an expert on this misunderstood disorder, but I do want to be an expert on raising a son who can overcome his challenges. I want to be such an expert at advocating his rights in a classroom that other moms of children with ADHD will ask me for advice. I want to be an expert on communicating with coaches, teachers, leaders, peers, and especially my son about what ADHD does and does not mean. I didn't choose this area of understanding, but I want to pursue it with my whole heart and energy.

Doing Disneyland with 4 children. I swear one day I'm going to write a book on this one...we have got the system figured out. Of course it doesn't hurt that I happen to love running and that usually Cory and I are the ones dragging our children half asleep by the end of the night. I took my sister to Disneyland with us once, and by the end of the second day she said, "Cami, I swear I am walking as fast as I can and I can NOT keep up with you. I feel sorry for your kids!" If you ever want to know how to make the most of stroller passes and fast passes...give me a call!

Anyway, I guess that's enough of waxing philosophic for one day. Still, it makes me wonder what special areas of knowledge are in store for my future. I also find myself wondering what Cory or my kids would consider as their field of expertise. Oh, and it also makes me wonder how many times anyone has ever used the words "expertise" or "wonder" in one post. Hmmm.

Blog Envy

The more I dive into this cyber-world, the more I begin to enjoy it. It has been a treat to reconnect with old friends...a surreal experience to suddenly flash forward 15 years into their lives. I am writing again in a semi-meaningful way for the first time since, well, college. I find myself thinking about language and finding the funny side of family disasters because wouldn't that make a really great blog entry? Wait...let me go find my camera. This is an honest way to communicate with my friends and family about my ups and downs without running up an astronomical phone bill...and yet it's completely controlled and manipulated at the same time. I honestly wish I could devote more time to my site, but have tried to take a disciplined approach so I don't lose track of the time I live in the real world. I have been amazed at how big the blogosphere really is...there is a whole civilization right under my nose that I never knew existed even a few months ago. But there is a dark side to this new hobby that I have discovered lurking in obscure corners. It's Othello's green-eyed monster of jealousy.

As I visit more and more sites and smile at anecdotes or funny photos, the more I want my own pathetic and stunted web page to hide. Everyone, it seems, is full of engaging and witty dialogue; who knew there were so many undiscovered authors in the world? And the photography on some sites seems much more than amateur...maybe I shouldn't waste my money on family portraits...I should just ask one of my blogging friends to take pictures for me. Some sites are techno-fantastic which makes me feel like the girl in the computer lab who is taking the tutorial on how to use a "mouse." I find myself coveting backgrounds, layouts, applications, and oh such CUTE ideas! But don't worry. It's nothing serious. Thank you all you wonderful bloggers for inspiring me to think bigger even if right now I'm at a place where I'm barely maintaining my humble little corner of the universe.

We have a Ballerina!?!

As a mother of 3 boys, you begin to adjust to certain routines and expectations. You understand that you may actually have to say the words, "Yes, you have to change your underwear every day!" more than once. You become an expert on Newton's lesser known law of inertia: An object at rest will be put in motion as soon as one of my children enters the room. And although you may not ever really understand it, you resign yourself to the need your children have to tackle each other on sight. So when we brought this sweet little pink and white infant home 4 years ago, I assumed she would be a tomboy ready to roll with the roughest of them. Who knew she would turn out to be such a girl?

So she has rejected the world of organized sports for now and embraced her inner grace and, well, diva-hood. We can't wait to see what she does this December in the Children's Nutcracker Ballet.
But lest you worry that she is too much a priss...Anna has also lately taken to training on our furniture for "Ninja Warrior."

Help! I'm drowning!

There was a time when I dreamed about the day when all my children would be in school. Oh the things I would do! I would go out to lunch with my friends at places that don't have children's menus. I would slip over to the temple to do a session in the MIDDLE OF THE DAY! I would run all my errands without undoing a single carseat strap. Well the day has arrived...3 of my 4 are in school all day, and Anna has preschool twice a week. So where is all that luxury I had envisioned? That poor, pathetically naive woman who imagined this new life of ease! I wish I could find her and give her a good talking-to.

I spend every morning in a frenzy of signing planners, finding library books, sending my 6-year-old upstairs to get dressed at least 4 times, nagging, yelling, and begging my children to please just get their stuff together before they are late for school. I am a frazzled mess. Here is a verbatim quote of something I said 2 minutes before they left for school today: "That's it! I'm done telling you guys to get ready...just go to school when you feel like it! I wash my hands of the whole thing." (If I make a biblical reference, does that count as our morning scripture study?)

I then spend my days running errands, going to the gym (hey! I have to have an outlet for all this pent-up mania!), attending meetings for babysitting co-op, preschool co-op, Relief Society Presidency, helping out in 3 kids' classrooms, visiting teaching, and fulfilling other church assignments and responsibilities, taking the one child left at home to the park or the library or to play groups, and oh yeah, every once in a while attempting to do a little housework...eventually the children do need clean underwear. This week I finally decided that I just had to choose the 1 thing that I HAD to do that day because more than that was impossible. Monday was canning the peaches that are dropping out of my tree (I only am about 1/3 done). Tuesday was laundry (There are still 2 loads sitting in the laundry room) and catching up on all the back to school paperwork coming home every day (It took me literally 2 hours! 2 hours of form-filling, check-writing, and parent signatures! Can you imagine a bigger waste of time?) Wednesday was???...oh my gosh! I can't even remember what I did yesterday!

And then 4:00 comes around, the kids walk through the door and 3 seconds later, it's time for bed! Three kids in school means supervising an exponential amount of homework. Here's a little story problem for all of you math lovers. If there is 1 hour and 7 minutes between the end of the school day and your departure for child number 1's soccer game, how many minutes can be given to providing a snack for 4, helping child number 2 practice for their spelling test, listening to child number 1 read out loud (the teacher requires 20 minutes a day, but I figure if we read really fast I can cut it back to 10), helping child number 3 start their book report, listening to child number 2 and child number 3 practice the piano, finding glue and scissors for child number 2's pictograph, and making dinner to eat in the car en route to soccer game? I know it's a tricky one...you just might need to use calculus. I don't feel like I have any one child in too many extracurricular things, but the combination of schedules is burying me. Here's another fun little conondrum: Zachary has piano, scouts and flag football--that takes one afternoon, two evenings and a Saturday morning every week. Noah has the same three activities, but football is on a different night for him, and scouts is on a different afternoon. Isaac has soccer, which accounts for one weeknight practice and one weeknight game. How many days long does our week need to be to include every activity? And what do I do when Anna is old enough to be added to the after-school mix?

All right...rant over...for anyone loyal enough to have read through the math assignment, I promise to wake up with a sunnier outlook tomorrow and stop abusing my blog. Life is good. My children are all healthy. Soon they will be teenagers so I better stop and enjoy this stage of my life, frenzy and all.

In My Expert Opinion

Have you ever noticed that during the Olympics, everyone you know is suddenly an expert about things like, "form breaks," "butterfly half-stroke," "double-pump volleyball hit," "illegal inside lane touches," and "water polo power plays?" People are suddenly passionate about the U.S. swim team, never mind that they have not so much as attended a child's meet at the community pool in the last 4 years. You hear grown men comparing the nuances of Liukin's artistic style with Johnson's athletic presence. I love it.

And so, in honor of the couch potato expert, here are some of my powerful insights about the past two weeks of world competition:

Swimming: Michael Phelps is the most amazing athlete ever...and he's a mama's boy. How sweet! He comes across as a grounded and humble individual (albeit a little inarticulate). I hope he can survive his fame and status without doing something publicly humiliating. Of course, he'll only be famous for a few more weeks, and then we'll forget there is such a sport as swimming for another 4 years.

Gymnastics: (I have a little experience in this area...so pay attention...I know what I'm talking about.) This new judging system is designed to confuse everyone...especially the people actually implementing it by posting the scores. National bias aside, there have been some major U.S. rip-offs this year, and Bela Karolyi is the only one crazy enough to say it on broadcast television.

Beach Volleyball: Clearly a man is responsible for the design of both the mens' and the women's uniforms.

Track and Field: Isn't it interesting that when they interview swimmers after their races, they come across as educated and humble? Flash forward one week to the sprinters' interviews and all you want to do is wipe the smirk off of their arrogant faces. "Ugly American, party of 1!"

Diving: Is it just me, or is synchronized diving just a little bit creepy?

Marathon: Speaking as someone who actually enjoys running and distance training, I really hope that the guy who decided it would be great to broadcast the entire 2 1/2 hours of the womens' marathon is now unemployed.

And speaking of broadcasting...don't you think it would be possible to end the night a little earlier...Mommy is a little cranky when she's perpetually sleep-deprived. Also, note for the next Olympiad: maybe instead of showing every swimming, diving, and track preliminary, quarter-final, and semi-final you could show us one of the other 200 sports that are happening at the games. Also, do we really need to watch the gymnasts on their apparatus warm-ups? I for one, feel ripped off that I missed yet another heart-stopping table tennis final. And don't get me started on all the pistol championships that have yet again been overlooked.

I better go now...I'm expecting a call from Bob Costas any minute. He said he could use my input.