- Crandall Historical Printing Museum ($)
- Downtown Provo
- Excellent education stop. Working Gutenberg Press, pioneer presses, and linotype.
- Thanksgiving Point ($$)
- Near Lehi, north county
- Gorgeous gardens, Museum of Ancient Life (dinosaurs), Museum of Natural Curiosity (children's discovery-type), good food, IMAX theater.
- BYU Campus (F)
- Provo
- Bean Museum
- Museum of Art
- Museum of Paleontology
- Nostalgia for Alumni
- Plenty of places to eat
- Hike the "Y" (F)
- Provo, East Bench
- 2.2 miles round trip
- Steep, full sun
- Gorgeous views
- Hike Battle Creek Falls (F)
- East of Pleasant Grove
- 1.2 miles round trip
- Easy
- Perfect for young children
- Forest, waterfall, playing in the stream
- Fish Salem Pond ($, fishing license)
- Salem, south county
- Pretty, fun urban pond
- Fishing license information
- Provo Beach Resort ($ - $$)
- Provo, near Provo Canyon
- Laser Tag, Flowrider, Carousel, Arcade, Mini Croquet, Bowling, Food
- Fun, especially for older kids
- Bridal Veil Falls (F)
- Provo Canyon
- Scenic river path, boulder climbing, waterfall, picnicking
- Timpanogos Cave ($)
- American Fork Canyon
- Buy tickets ahead of time!
- 3 miles round trip
- No strollers or wheelchairs
- Excellent cave tour, gorgeous views, picnicking
- Seven Peaks Water Resort ($$)
- Provo
- Large water park with rides, wave pool, lazy river, food, tube rentals
- Especially good for older kids with good swimming skills
- Discovery or Castle Park (also known as Manila Park) (F)
- Pleasant Grove
- Fun park for ages 4-12, large wooden castle with slides, swings, climbing, etc
- Hang time ($)
- Orem
- Indoor trampoline park
- Trafalga Lehi ($)
- Lehi
- Laser tag, go-karts, rides, mini-golf, carousel
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
What to do in Utah County?
Utah County is, unsurprisingly, a fairly family-friendly place. Plenty of free (F) and lower-cost ($) activities abound, with a few higher-priced places ($$) thrown in for good measure. Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Christmas Creep
(Yes, I know it's only September.)
(But I love getting ready for Christmas.)
Last Christmas, my mother-in-law was culling her Christmas decorations, and asked if I wanted a two-foot-tall painted nutcracker from Costco. Without knowing what he looked like, but thinking ahead to the larger house we were about to move into, I agreed. After all, if I didn't end up using him, I could take him over to DI just as easy as she could.
As you can see, he's a very nice nutcracker, but not really in my style or color scheme. After looking around Pinterest (oh, that time suck), I decided to try to change him up. (After all, if I messed up, I wasn't really out much but my time and a little paint.)
First thing I did was rip the poor thing's hair off. It wasn't as easy as I hoped, but with a disposable razor (really), tweezers, and coarse sandpaper, I got most of it off. Then I pried the "jewels" off his crown with a paring knife. (I'm very professional here.)
Out in the garage, I sprayed him with first primer, and then three thin coats of "Champagne Mist" metallic spray paint. (Okay, one of the coats was a little too thick, and I got some drips that had to be sanded away.)
After leaving him to dry thoroughly, I brought him back inside and painted gold on certain parts--the crown, the epaulettes, cuffs, and parts of the staff. Parts of the epaulettes, crown, and staff are also coated with glitter (messy but pretty). Finally, I glued the "jewels" back on, and added some extra "bling" stickers from the bargain bin at Michael's.
I think he turned out pretty posh, don't you?
(But I love getting ready for Christmas.)
Last Christmas, my mother-in-law was culling her Christmas decorations, and asked if I wanted a two-foot-tall painted nutcracker from Costco. Without knowing what he looked like, but thinking ahead to the larger house we were about to move into, I agreed. After all, if I didn't end up using him, I could take him over to DI just as easy as she could.
I forgot to take a "before" picture, but the box will do, right?
As you can see, he's a very nice nutcracker, but not really in my style or color scheme. After looking around Pinterest (oh, that time suck), I decided to try to change him up. (After all, if I messed up, I wasn't really out much but my time and a little paint.)
First thing I did was rip the poor thing's hair off. It wasn't as easy as I hoped, but with a disposable razor (really), tweezers, and coarse sandpaper, I got most of it off. Then I pried the "jewels" off his crown with a paring knife. (I'm very professional here.)
Out in the garage, I sprayed him with first primer, and then three thin coats of "Champagne Mist" metallic spray paint. (Okay, one of the coats was a little too thick, and I got some drips that had to be sanded away.)
After leaving him to dry thoroughly, I brought him back inside and painted gold on certain parts--the crown, the epaulettes, cuffs, and parts of the staff. Parts of the epaulettes, crown, and staff are also coated with glitter (messy but pretty). Finally, I glued the "jewels" back on, and added some extra "bling" stickers from the bargain bin at Michael's.
I think he turned out pretty posh, don't you?
Monday, September 16, 2013
Art Project
But in the past year, I've felt the pull to create again. I've started playing with my watercolors again (man, I've lost just about any technique I ever had), "electronic paint" programs on the tablet, and--the easiest--my acrylics.
Recently, while searching for Halloween costume tutorials online, I found a pretty canvas of a stylized blossom, complete with tutorial. I liked the look, the clean lines, the slightly off-center nature. I didn't love the idea of having to cut out millions of "petals", nor did I have any pretty colored papers. And because I was hoping to put it in my upstairs bathroom, paper (covered with Modge-Podge or not), didn't seem like the best idea.
So I decided to make something that looked the same, but with paints instead of paper.
It was really easy! I started out with two 10x14 stretched canvases, and painted them the background color I wanted. While they dried completely, I took cardstock and cut out ONE petal, the size and shape I wanted. After deciding where I wanted the middle of the "blossom" to be, I used a child-sized cup to lightly draw a circle there. Then I used my petal template to draw the petals, starting around the cup circle and then radiating out. Then I grabbed the paints I wanted to use and started painting! I painted about six to eight petals of the same color at a time, staggering the color around the blossom. Most every petal needed more than one coat, and some (the gold) took three. And then I took a little tiny brush and patterned some of them, just for fun.
It was easy, but it was pretty time-consuming. I just listened to my audiobook (David McCullough's bio of Harry Truman), though, sat with my back to the open window, with rain-scented breezes blowing in, and had a marvelous time.
(And of course I hopped up every twenty-thirty minutes to help my two youngest. But they are old enough to listen when Momma threatens them with dire things if they so much as THINK about touching.)
Anyway, I love the way they turned out!
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Family History, Rainy Style
My Grandma Pace (my mother's mother) is visiting from Las Vegas. She's staying with us (hooray!) and, since she couldn't sleep in the spare 'oom (she doesn't do stairs), or in Mema's bed (Mema uses a stepstool to get in and out of her bed, it's so high), she is sleeping in the upstairs bedroom on our side.
(This is the reason I have been MIA lately. We haven't been using that room as a bedroom, for all it has a bed. We've been using it as an "office", which is just a polite way of saying it has been the "I-don't-know-where-to-put-this-right-now, so-I'll dump-it-here" room. It was a disaster. So I spent two--yes, two full days--cleaning it and organizing it, which lead me to trying to organize the storage room, which led to the rest of the house being neglected. With five kids, you can guess what the rest of the house ended up looking like. Sigh. There has been a LOT of cleaning around here the last three days. I'm tired.)
It is so fun to have Grandma here, though it confuses my younger kids a lot. Yummy isn't sure how I can have a Grandma, too, but she's okay with this nice white-haired lady all the same. Hebs is confused about what to call Grandma, but has settled into calling her "Grandma-Great" pretty well.
Today, Mom and Grandma (and Grandma's sister Aunt Verona) went to make the rounds of the cemeteries and old homesteads of their families. I followed with my two youngest, in our van, because I wanted to go with them, but needed to be home before school got out.
Grandma and Aunt Verona grew up in the Kamas/Peoa/Rockport area of Utah, east of Park City and Heber. We got to see the Peoa house, where Grandma was born, the Peoa cemetery, where Grandma's mother and father, and grandmother and grandfather, are buried. And we parked on the side of the Rockport Reservoir, hiked up a (steep, muddy) hill, and climbed a barbed wire fence to take pictures and GPS locations of the old pioneer graves high on the hill. My ancestors, the Seymours, are buried in the furthest cluster of graves to the south. (And no, Grandma and Aunt Verona didn't climb up to the Rockport graves. Just Mema, the kids, and I.)
The kids had a pretty good time, especially with the bribe of mini donuts at the beginning and McDonald's in Heber at the end. And I had a good time. I love family history!
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(This is the reason I have been MIA lately. We haven't been using that room as a bedroom, for all it has a bed. We've been using it as an "office", which is just a polite way of saying it has been the "I-don't-know-where-to-put-this-right-now, so-I'll dump-it-here" room. It was a disaster. So I spent two--yes, two full days--cleaning it and organizing it, which lead me to trying to organize the storage room, which led to the rest of the house being neglected. With five kids, you can guess what the rest of the house ended up looking like. Sigh. There has been a LOT of cleaning around here the last three days. I'm tired.)
It is so fun to have Grandma here, though it confuses my younger kids a lot. Yummy isn't sure how I can have a Grandma, too, but she's okay with this nice white-haired lady all the same. Hebs is confused about what to call Grandma, but has settled into calling her "Grandma-Great" pretty well.
Today, Mom and Grandma (and Grandma's sister Aunt Verona) went to make the rounds of the cemeteries and old homesteads of their families. I followed with my two youngest, in our van, because I wanted to go with them, but needed to be home before school got out.
Grandma and Aunt Verona grew up in the Kamas/Peoa/Rockport area of Utah, east of Park City and Heber. We got to see the Peoa house, where Grandma was born, the Peoa cemetery, where Grandma's mother and father, and grandmother and grandfather, are buried. And we parked on the side of the Rockport Reservoir, hiked up a (steep, muddy) hill, and climbed a barbed wire fence to take pictures and GPS locations of the old pioneer graves high on the hill. My ancestors, the Seymours, are buried in the furthest cluster of graves to the south. (And no, Grandma and Aunt Verona didn't climb up to the Rockport graves. Just Mema, the kids, and I.)
The kids had a pretty good time, especially with the bribe of mini donuts at the beginning and McDonald's in Heber at the end. And I had a good time. I love family history!
Up on the northern hill above Rockport, showing the very empty lake in the background. (Whenever I say, "Smile!", Yummy poses. She's a hoot.)
In front of the one of the Seymour headstones.
It is starting to rain now, so the kids were ready to get back down to the car.
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Hebs was pleased with Heber City. Wonder why?
Friday, September 6, 2013
Pathos
I drove up to Sandy tonight to drop Em off at her cousin's slumber party, and while I was there my sister Telima and I decided to go out for an hour or so. We window-shopped and had frozen yogurt, and had a marvelous time.
Here's the writing a little closer, so you can read it.
When I got home at 10pm, I found this waiting for me on my bed.
Here's the writing a little closer, so you can read it.
I especially love the little teary sad faces. Oh, that boy of mine! I love him tons and tons.
*The elaborate figure is a "boss", as in the final battle of a level on a video game. This is what Gee draws, all the time. I love them. Sometimes they are spiky, sometimes they are volcanoes, too, but always they have a little man in their head, who controls the "boss", like a robot. It's awesome.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
New House Tour: Living Room/Entry
Here is my (far overdue) photo tour of my new house. Weekly (I hope), I'll have a post up about a different room, and my hopes/vision/dreams/pie-in-the-sky for that space. You know, if I had all the money in the world.
The first room you see when you come in my front door is the living room/entry way. Bradley has a way with plants that I completely lack, so that's his job. And I'll have to see if I can't get a better picture of my front door glass, because I love it.
To the right is the living room. The door in the corner is to Mema's side of the house. The curtains are from IKEA, and all the furniture in the room belongs to Mema. It was in her formal living room in the house in Las Vegas. The sofas are about 26 years old, and, sadly, showing their age. It would be nice to get some new ones, but...$$$$. We'll be waiting on that one.
The lamps and end tables are pretty inexpensive. The lamps used to be this hideous orange-brown color, but we spray painted them oil-rubbed bronze, got some new shades, and now they look pretty good. Flimsy, though, so eventually we'll need to replace them, too. We have plans to recover the blue seat on that chair with something either neutral or green or (possibly) red.
The Grandfather clock is a true grandfather clock, in that my grandfather (Mema's dad) made it. It also doesn't work, but I don't think it stopped, short, never to go again, when he passed away. We are contemplating fixing it, but, once again, $$.
View of the entry from inside the living room. The guest closet is the door on the left. That three part painting was a gift from a dear gentleman in our Spanish Fork ward. Isn't it amazing??? I love it soooo much, and the fact that it is from a friend makes it even better.
You can see it better here.
And here is the hallway into the family room, which will be for another day.
We have pictures up on the wall, and curtains and all, and I don't think the room looks bad at all, but it's a little (lot) bland. I'd love to spice it up, and I've been brainstorming and pinning up a storm with ideas.
For the main make-over, we would love to board-and-batten the living room, like in this picture, to within three feet(ish) of the ceiling. The boards and crown molding would be a soft white, and the top un-wainscoted part would be a soft green.
Here's a little mood board of some of my ideas:
(Click to embiggenify.)
1. Burgess Green, for the walls
2. Or maybe Russell Green, instead
3. Board and batten picture, small
4. I like this traditional style of couch, making it not the focal point, but more of a neutral background. Probably along the same wall as the long couch is currently on.
5. & 6. Instead of a love seat, maybe two arm chairs on the window wall, with a table in between.
7. & 8. Or maybe instead of an end table, one of these cute ceramic garden stools.
9. For the entryway wall, under the aspen painting
10, 13, 14. Inspiration for paintings to lean on the wainscoting.
11. The aspen painting
12. Gorgeous bright red stars for a splash of color, hanging down in the window.
15, 16, 17. Throw pillows for the couch. I've already got one of 15 ($11 at Walmart!), and another one ordered.
18. & 19. Tiffany/Mission-style table lamps. I haven't found one in cast-iron black, with is what I'd want, or brushed nickel.
20. To hang down in the entryway. So pretty!
Well, someday some of this might happen. We'll see. I love to dream and wish, and this way, if I ever see something similar at a thrift shop, I can nab it!
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
A Couple Few Things
- Dinner tonight was really yummy--Lemon-Paprika Roast Salmon. We had it over brown rice and really loved it. I bought the thinner (frozen) fillets, and it only took about 12 minutes to cook. Easy and healthy and good...success!
- I'm working on something, that I thought I'd have finished for today's post. But I'm not done yet, so you get to wait. Heh heh. It's not really that exciting.
- My Zee is going to wake me up at seven tomorrow morning so I can run around the park track with him three times. So I'm going to bed now instead of working on the aforementioned project.
Good night!
Monday, September 2, 2013
Labor Day
As much fun as it is to hang out with these adorable sillies, there is something very satisfying about bedtime. It's been a looooooong holiday weekend. I'm ready to get back to our routine.
(Pictures taken at Gee's kindergarten graduation last spring.)
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Eight is Exhausting
My brother and his bride escaped this weekend down to St George, and their three kiddos are staying with us. My children are ecstatic, except when they've all had a little too much togetherness, and then, naturally, there is wailing and possibly gnashing of teeth.
(Question: Do you ever gnash anything other than teeth?)
All eight are bathed and in their beds, and I've got a raging headache. That sounds about right.
(Question: Do you ever gnash anything other than teeth?)
All eight are bathed and in their beds, and I've got a raging headache. That sounds about right.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Old News, or All About Handicap Parking Spaces At School
So, last night, a friend of mine posted a rant about school pickup and handicap parking. She has a son with a wheelchair (he's in kindergarten), and people seem to be using the handicap parking as a five-minute pickup spot. Her post reminded me of a similar situation we experienced last autumn.
I never wrote about it on my "public" blog, mostly because I was trying to understand my own motivations and my antagonist's behavior. Also, I had to live with the situation for several more months, until we moved in early January. I didn't want to make it worse. But I did write it up for the Tobler family blog, and got feedback from my siblings and mom.
Now that we are a year out from the situation, I have more perspective, and more humor about the whole kerfuffle. And the kids don't attend the same school, and I never see my antagonist, and my friend from the first paragraph is experiencing a similar (and way worse, because her son is on a wheelchair) situation. I decided to take the two posts I wrote about it on the family blog and put them up here.
Some of my new-found perspective helps me see that I was behaving more than a little like a entitled brat. That doesn't make the other woman right, at all, but I'm not blameless in any of this. Parking in the handicap spot is super-duper convenient, and Gee has the ability to navigate car pickup lines, even if it is a little harder for him. I certainly didn't (and still don't) NEED to park in handicap spots for him. But it does make his life a little easier.
Anyway, here it is, in all its ridiculous glory. Warning: SUPER LONG POST AHEAD.
(Friday, September 21, 2012)
So, on the first day of kindergarten, I drove to pick Gee up. While waiting for the kids to get out, I chatted with some of the other waiting moms. Normal stuff--is your kindergartner a boy or girl; do you have older kids in school; crazy that our babies are so big, etc. One of the women there (we'll call her Liz, because that's her name and it's sufficiently common enough to provide anonymity), seemed to be determined to either one-up everyone or know everything there is to know. It wasn't HORRIBLY blatant, but enough there that even as I talked with her, I was thinking, "Oh, wow..." Although her oldest child is the kindergartner, she wanted to seem to know everything about the school. She wanted to make sure everyone knew that she had three other small children at home (so?), and that she had walked. "We're going to walk every time the weather is good. It's such good exercise, and only seven blocks!"
"Oh!" said I. "Where do you live?"
"Over by Fresh Market," she pointed.
"I was just wondering because I live seven blocks away, too! Only down by the library park," I said.
"And you DROVE?!? You really should walk!" was her response.
Whoa. Really? I just met you, lady. You know nothing about my family and situation. (And if I were being catty, I would point out that she lives seven blocks away on flat streets, whereas I live down two hills, one of them pretty big.)
Despite being a little taken aback, I was mostly just amused. And a little embarrassed for her, because I knew what was going to happen next.
"Well, my kindergartner is physically handicapped. He has a difficult time walking long distances because he has spina bifida and wears leg braces. So that's why we have the handicap tags." I waved my hand over to my car. "Gee can walk to church, but that's only three blocks, and it takes him a long time and tires him out."
Liz looked a little embarrassed, but right then the kindergartners got out, and I got to deal with my boy and his disappointing first day.
In telling Mema, Telima, and Bradley about the day, I totally laughed off poor Liz. I imagined that she was feeling terribly embarrassed about her flubs. I imagined that she was beating herself up, mentally, for being so awkward and feeling weird about it. That's what I would have done.
And maybe she did. But I'm not sure anymore.
For the next couple of days, whenever we'd chat, she'd say something that just made me shake my head (figuratively). No big deal, though.
And then, the second week of kindergarten, she pulled into the hatch-marked handicap loading zone, right next to my van. Her van was blocking the curb cutout that leads to the sidewalk. (By the way, it was a perfectly beautiful day that day...)
I can't remember, now, if I said something to her that day, or if I waited for the next time it happened. But I screwed up my courage, and very politely asked if she would not park in the loading zone, because that made it hard for my boy to get out to the car. She nodded and said "Oh, sure, sure!"
And, to give credit where due, she hasn't since. No, she just parks in the other handicap spot. EVERY time she picks up her kid in the car. (At least three times a week, I'd guess. Not that I'm counting or anything.) (Except I totally am.)
Now, two other people have pulled into the hatch zone to pick up kids, and I've politely asked both of them to refrain, and both were uber polite and apologetic. And now they both always park in the right spots. (Yesterday there was another car, but I didn't say anything because I wasn't feeling well and I was getting tired of being the parking police. So I talked to Mrs. L (the kindergarten teacher) instead. She's going to mention it up in her monthly newsletter.)
So, today when I went to pick up Gee, there was an unfamiliar car in the handicap spot I usually use. This car had a handicap tag, so no problem. But guess who was in the other handicap spot?
Liz.
Which meant we had to park pretty far away. It's funny (not) how angry I felt. I didn't feel in control of my feelings enough to talk to Liz about it. And then, of course, Gee hates change and is so tired after school anyway that he complained and whined all the way over to the car. (He needs to buck up, buttercup. I told him that, and mentioned if he was so tired, then he could take a nap when we got home. He stopped after that.)
Why do I get so frustrated about this? I feel like she's acting entitled, but am I acting entitled to that prime spot, right in front of the door. After all, it's not raining or snowing or icy. (Like the time last year when people were illegally parked in the handicap spots, and Gee fell full on into the gutter filled with icy, murky water. I was SO TICKED that day that I don't think I ever wrote about it.) Gee is perfectly capable of walking that fifty meters to the car, even if he has a hard time navigating the curbs and the stairs.
So, what say you, family? Am I being entitled? And what should I do about this situation?
My family answered as you might expect, with reassurances and suggestions. Then the following happened the very next week.
(Thursday, September 26, 2012)
Okay, it's been 24 hours now, so I think I can write about this without frothing at the mouth or laughing hysterically. Hopefully.
To set the stage: It was on Friday that I posted my big long rant about Liz and the handicap parking spot. I also posted on Facebook, in brief, just about how frustrating it is when handicap slots are taken by non-handicapped vehicles. My local friends jumped in and supported me, and one in particular (we'll call her "Jayne"; her child is in Gee's class, and she overheard me talking to the teacher on Thursday) was all ready to go picket at the kindergarten pickup line.
Come to this Monday: My van was in the shop, getting new shocks and tires and oil and all that expensive jazz. (But not new brakes, despite their squeakiness. Apparently they are just fine, albeit noisy.) Instead of dragging my lazy self up the hill to the school to fetch Gee after kindergarten, I asked Mema to do it (on Tuesday, too). (Remember, the kids take the bus with Daddy in the morning and the big kids walk home after school.)
Well, unbeknownst to me, Jayne decided to take things into her own hands. She called me on Tuesday afternoon, and told me of her adventures of the last two pickup times.
(Jayne is the type of woman who really doesn't take gruff from anyone, and is fiercely loyal. Although we've never had a chance to work together in callings, she and I know each other on a ward level, at least. She's funny and cool and a great camp director.)
When she got to kindergarten pickup on Monday, she went into the school, grabbed the tall orange cones they use before and after school in the crosswalks, and put them in the hatchmarks in the handicapped area. And then she stood there. At one point, someone pulled in, and Jayne walked up to talk to her. "Hey, just so you know, the school has asked us not to park here." The lady in the car said something like, "Oh, you're right, I'm sorry" and pulled around to the correct area. Yay!
Then Liz came up, walking. Jayne has actually met (and dealt with) Liz before, when both their daughters were in a dance class together. Jayne walked over to Liz and said, "Hey, Liz, the school has asked us not to park in the handicap zone...I noticed that you were parked there on Friday. Just wanted to let you know, because none of us need a $400 ticket right before Christmas."
Liz answered something like this: "Oh, I know why. She's talked to me about it before." And then it began.
I can't remember everything, in order, that Jayne told me. But here are some of the gems:
"The time I parked in the hatched area, I totally stopped far enough back that her son could walk down the curb cutout. He had plenty of room. But she talked to me anyway, and I haven't parked there since."
When Jayne pointed out that she then parked in the actual handicap spot, Liz answered, "Yes, I do. I have four kids under five, and this is naptime for two of them, and I'm not going to get them out of the car, especially when it's raining or snowy or cold. There are four spots -- [Jayne: "Four? There's only two." Liz: "Four: the two hatch zones, and the two handicap spots" Jayne: "Oooookay."] -- so she can park in her spot and I will park over here."
Jayne: "But on Friday, someone with a handicap sticker was parked in that one, and you were parked in the other one. Keryn had to go to the far end of the pickup line to park and then walk back to the door."
Liz: "I know. I watched her."
Wow.
"Well," Jayne said, "if you park in the pickup lane, you can just leave your kids in the car for less than a minute, just like the rest of the moms do." Liz said, "I'm not going to leave my kids in the car. And the rest of us love our kids as much as she loves hers."
Oh, good. I'm glad she cleared that up, I was thinking that OF COURSE I love my kids more than her. And everyone else, too.
Also: "Is she going to follow him around making things easier on him for his whole life?" (Um, YES, at least while he's a KINDERGARTNER.)
She also said this: "She talked to me, and I know she talked to some other moms. You need to tell her, all the other moms agree with me. And she should know, if she talks to some of the other moms that are more aggressive than me, she's going to get something handed back to her." (At this point, Jayne told me she was thinking, "Oh, yeah? Bring it, babe!" It made me laugh.) Jayne said, "I know you don't know Keryn, but she's the nicest, sweetest gal in the world..." Liz said, "I know you think she's nice, she's in your ward."
Jayne asked her if it was because Gee can walk, sort of, and isn't in a wheelchair. Liz said, "No, that wouldn't change anything." Jayne also asked if she parks in the handicap spots at Wal-Mart. "No," she said. "But here, I'm in my car the WHOLE time."
Jayne tried, very hard, to get her to at least agree that she won't park in the handicapped zones anymore. No dice. Liz was not going to back down, admit she was wrong, or even grudgingly agree to humor me or anything.
So: Liz talks about me behind my back, at least that's the implication. Also implied: a) I think I'm special because I have a handicapped son and b) he's really not that badly handicapped, or something. Also c) I'm a spoiled brat because I want to use the handicap space, so I don't have to get my kids out of the car in the bad weather, with the corollary that d) because she has many small children, she deserves to park in the handicap zone.
Wow. She has more problems than I know what to do with.
I was nervous going to pickup today. However, I didn't see her. I didn't see her van parked in the pickup line -- or the handicap spot, although someone else was, and no, I didn't tell them to leave; I'm nervous about that nowadays -- and I didn't see her walking, either. In the scrum of kindergartners finding moms and grandmas, Liz's daughter left and I didn't see who picked her up.
But I'm not going to change much about my routine. I think I will still ask people to move if they are parked in the hatch zone, and I have decided that I will park behind people if they are illegally parked in the handicap zone and there isn't another place for me park. Other than that, I'm going to treat her like any other mom picking up her child. Smile and nod, baby.
Sorry about the novel-length post. It feels good to get it all out (which I did with Telima, Mema, and Bradley yesterday, all in turn. Heh.), and to record what happened. Hopefully this will be the worst case of ignorance Gee has to encounter in his life. (But I doubt it.) Sigh.
And there you go. The drama of life in suburbia. Heh.
I never wrote about it on my "public" blog, mostly because I was trying to understand my own motivations and my antagonist's behavior. Also, I had to live with the situation for several more months, until we moved in early January. I didn't want to make it worse. But I did write it up for the Tobler family blog, and got feedback from my siblings and mom.
Now that we are a year out from the situation, I have more perspective, and more humor about the whole kerfuffle. And the kids don't attend the same school, and I never see my antagonist, and my friend from the first paragraph is experiencing a similar (and way worse, because her son is on a wheelchair) situation. I decided to take the two posts I wrote about it on the family blog and put them up here.
Some of my new-found perspective helps me see that I was behaving more than a little like a entitled brat. That doesn't make the other woman right, at all, but I'm not blameless in any of this. Parking in the handicap spot is super-duper convenient, and Gee has the ability to navigate car pickup lines, even if it is a little harder for him. I certainly didn't (and still don't) NEED to park in handicap spots for him. But it does make his life a little easier.
Anyway, here it is, in all its ridiculous glory. Warning: SUPER LONG POST AHEAD.
(Friday, September 21, 2012)
So, on the first day of kindergarten, I drove to pick Gee up. While waiting for the kids to get out, I chatted with some of the other waiting moms. Normal stuff--is your kindergartner a boy or girl; do you have older kids in school; crazy that our babies are so big, etc. One of the women there (we'll call her Liz, because that's her name and it's sufficiently common enough to provide anonymity), seemed to be determined to either one-up everyone or know everything there is to know. It wasn't HORRIBLY blatant, but enough there that even as I talked with her, I was thinking, "Oh, wow..." Although her oldest child is the kindergartner, she wanted to seem to know everything about the school. She wanted to make sure everyone knew that she had three other small children at home (so?), and that she had walked. "We're going to walk every time the weather is good. It's such good exercise, and only seven blocks!"
"Oh!" said I. "Where do you live?"
"Over by Fresh Market," she pointed.
"I was just wondering because I live seven blocks away, too! Only down by the library park," I said.
"And you DROVE?!? You really should walk!" was her response.
Whoa. Really? I just met you, lady. You know nothing about my family and situation. (And if I were being catty, I would point out that she lives seven blocks away on flat streets, whereas I live down two hills, one of them pretty big.)
Despite being a little taken aback, I was mostly just amused. And a little embarrassed for her, because I knew what was going to happen next.
"Well, my kindergartner is physically handicapped. He has a difficult time walking long distances because he has spina bifida and wears leg braces. So that's why we have the handicap tags." I waved my hand over to my car. "Gee can walk to church, but that's only three blocks, and it takes him a long time and tires him out."
Liz looked a little embarrassed, but right then the kindergartners got out, and I got to deal with my boy and his disappointing first day.
In telling Mema, Telima, and Bradley about the day, I totally laughed off poor Liz. I imagined that she was feeling terribly embarrassed about her flubs. I imagined that she was beating herself up, mentally, for being so awkward and feeling weird about it. That's what I would have done.
And maybe she did. But I'm not sure anymore.
For the next couple of days, whenever we'd chat, she'd say something that just made me shake my head (figuratively). No big deal, though.
And then, the second week of kindergarten, she pulled into the hatch-marked handicap loading zone, right next to my van. Her van was blocking the curb cutout that leads to the sidewalk. (By the way, it was a perfectly beautiful day that day...)
I can't remember, now, if I said something to her that day, or if I waited for the next time it happened. But I screwed up my courage, and very politely asked if she would not park in the loading zone, because that made it hard for my boy to get out to the car. She nodded and said "Oh, sure, sure!"
And, to give credit where due, she hasn't since. No, she just parks in the other handicap spot. EVERY time she picks up her kid in the car. (At least three times a week, I'd guess. Not that I'm counting or anything.) (Except I totally am.)
Now, two other people have pulled into the hatch zone to pick up kids, and I've politely asked both of them to refrain, and both were uber polite and apologetic. And now they both always park in the right spots. (Yesterday there was another car, but I didn't say anything because I wasn't feeling well and I was getting tired of being the parking police. So I talked to Mrs. L (the kindergarten teacher) instead. She's going to mention it up in her monthly newsletter.)
So, today when I went to pick up Gee, there was an unfamiliar car in the handicap spot I usually use. This car had a handicap tag, so no problem. But guess who was in the other handicap spot?
Liz.
Which meant we had to park pretty far away. It's funny (not) how angry I felt. I didn't feel in control of my feelings enough to talk to Liz about it. And then, of course, Gee hates change and is so tired after school anyway that he complained and whined all the way over to the car. (He needs to buck up, buttercup. I told him that, and mentioned if he was so tired, then he could take a nap when we got home. He stopped after that.)
Why do I get so frustrated about this? I feel like she's acting entitled, but am I acting entitled to that prime spot, right in front of the door. After all, it's not raining or snowing or icy. (Like the time last year when people were illegally parked in the handicap spots, and Gee fell full on into the gutter filled with icy, murky water. I was SO TICKED that day that I don't think I ever wrote about it.) Gee is perfectly capable of walking that fifty meters to the car, even if he has a hard time navigating the curbs and the stairs.
So, what say you, family? Am I being entitled? And what should I do about this situation?
My family answered as you might expect, with reassurances and suggestions. Then the following happened the very next week.
(Thursday, September 26, 2012)
Okay, it's been 24 hours now, so I think I can write about this without frothing at the mouth or laughing hysterically. Hopefully.
To set the stage: It was on Friday that I posted my big long rant about Liz and the handicap parking spot. I also posted on Facebook, in brief, just about how frustrating it is when handicap slots are taken by non-handicapped vehicles. My local friends jumped in and supported me, and one in particular (we'll call her "Jayne"; her child is in Gee's class, and she overheard me talking to the teacher on Thursday) was all ready to go picket at the kindergarten pickup line.
Come to this Monday: My van was in the shop, getting new shocks and tires and oil and all that expensive jazz. (But not new brakes, despite their squeakiness. Apparently they are just fine, albeit noisy.) Instead of dragging my lazy self up the hill to the school to fetch Gee after kindergarten, I asked Mema to do it (on Tuesday, too). (Remember, the kids take the bus with Daddy in the morning and the big kids walk home after school.)
Well, unbeknownst to me, Jayne decided to take things into her own hands. She called me on Tuesday afternoon, and told me of her adventures of the last two pickup times.
(Jayne is the type of woman who really doesn't take gruff from anyone, and is fiercely loyal. Although we've never had a chance to work together in callings, she and I know each other on a ward level, at least. She's funny and cool and a great camp director.)
When she got to kindergarten pickup on Monday, she went into the school, grabbed the tall orange cones they use before and after school in the crosswalks, and put them in the hatchmarks in the handicapped area. And then she stood there. At one point, someone pulled in, and Jayne walked up to talk to her. "Hey, just so you know, the school has asked us not to park here." The lady in the car said something like, "Oh, you're right, I'm sorry" and pulled around to the correct area. Yay!
Then Liz came up, walking. Jayne has actually met (and dealt with) Liz before, when both their daughters were in a dance class together. Jayne walked over to Liz and said, "Hey, Liz, the school has asked us not to park in the handicap zone...I noticed that you were parked there on Friday. Just wanted to let you know, because none of us need a $400 ticket right before Christmas."
Liz answered something like this: "Oh, I know why. She's talked to me about it before." And then it began.
I can't remember everything, in order, that Jayne told me. But here are some of the gems:
"The time I parked in the hatched area, I totally stopped far enough back that her son could walk down the curb cutout. He had plenty of room. But she talked to me anyway, and I haven't parked there since."
When Jayne pointed out that she then parked in the actual handicap spot, Liz answered, "Yes, I do. I have four kids under five, and this is naptime for two of them, and I'm not going to get them out of the car, especially when it's raining or snowy or cold. There are four spots -- [Jayne: "Four? There's only two." Liz: "Four: the two hatch zones, and the two handicap spots" Jayne: "Oooookay."] -- so she can park in her spot and I will park over here."
Jayne: "But on Friday, someone with a handicap sticker was parked in that one, and you were parked in the other one. Keryn had to go to the far end of the pickup line to park and then walk back to the door."
Liz: "I know. I watched her."
Wow.
"Well," Jayne said, "if you park in the pickup lane, you can just leave your kids in the car for less than a minute, just like the rest of the moms do." Liz said, "I'm not going to leave my kids in the car. And the rest of us love our kids as much as she loves hers."
Oh, good. I'm glad she cleared that up, I was thinking that OF COURSE I love my kids more than her. And everyone else, too.
Also: "Is she going to follow him around making things easier on him for his whole life?" (Um, YES, at least while he's a KINDERGARTNER.)
She also said this: "She talked to me, and I know she talked to some other moms. You need to tell her, all the other moms agree with me. And she should know, if she talks to some of the other moms that are more aggressive than me, she's going to get something handed back to her." (At this point, Jayne told me she was thinking, "Oh, yeah? Bring it, babe!" It made me laugh.) Jayne said, "I know you don't know Keryn, but she's the nicest, sweetest gal in the world..." Liz said, "I know you think she's nice, she's in your ward."
Jayne asked her if it was because Gee can walk, sort of, and isn't in a wheelchair. Liz said, "No, that wouldn't change anything." Jayne also asked if she parks in the handicap spots at Wal-Mart. "No," she said. "But here, I'm in my car the WHOLE time."
Jayne tried, very hard, to get her to at least agree that she won't park in the handicapped zones anymore. No dice. Liz was not going to back down, admit she was wrong, or even grudgingly agree to humor me or anything.
So: Liz talks about me behind my back, at least that's the implication. Also implied: a) I think I'm special because I have a handicapped son and b) he's really not that badly handicapped, or something. Also c) I'm a spoiled brat because I want to use the handicap space, so I don't have to get my kids out of the car in the bad weather, with the corollary that d) because she has many small children, she deserves to park in the handicap zone.
Wow. She has more problems than I know what to do with.
I was nervous going to pickup today. However, I didn't see her. I didn't see her van parked in the pickup line -- or the handicap spot, although someone else was, and no, I didn't tell them to leave; I'm nervous about that nowadays -- and I didn't see her walking, either. In the scrum of kindergartners finding moms and grandmas, Liz's daughter left and I didn't see who picked her up.
But I'm not going to change much about my routine. I think I will still ask people to move if they are parked in the hatch zone, and I have decided that I will park behind people if they are illegally parked in the handicap zone and there isn't another place for me park. Other than that, I'm going to treat her like any other mom picking up her child. Smile and nod, baby.
Sorry about the novel-length post. It feels good to get it all out (which I did with Telima, Mema, and Bradley yesterday, all in turn. Heh.), and to record what happened. Hopefully this will be the worst case of ignorance Gee has to encounter in his life. (But I doubt it.) Sigh.
And there you go. The drama of life in suburbia. Heh.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Tooth Fairy Trauma
Well, this is a new one.
Gee finally lost his first "real" tooth. (He's had teeth removed at the dentist, but never one that fell out on its own.) There, obviously, has been much excitement surrounding this event. Last night, he carefully placed his tooth under his pillow and (eventually) fell asleep.
Unfortunately, the tooth fairy is growing forgetful in her old(er) age, and when Gee woke up this morning, the tooth was still under his pillow, and, worse still, NO MONEY!!
Or so it seemed. When notified of this tragic event, the clever momma told him to wait a minute, and she would help him look. She then "went to the bathroom", but really found a crumpled dollar bill on her dresser. Hiding the money in her hand, Momma went into Gee's bedroom and rummaged around his bed.
"Oh, look! I found this money off the side of your bed! It must have fallen off. And I bet the tooth fairy left your tooth here for you to keep." Whew! Problem solved, right?
Not so fast.
Gee seemed satisfied for a couple of minutes, but then doubts started to creep in. Not doubts about the authenticity of the tooth fairy, oh no. Doubts about the money. In short order, he was steadfastly convinced that the dollar bill was his, from "before", and he had somehow hidden it in his bed "a couple of months ago". The tooth fairy HADN'T come, and this dollar didn't count!
All my arguments to the contrary didn't sway him ("You spent your other dollar at the pool, remember? You didn't 'hide' your money, it's in your bank!), and he got so angry and frustrated with me that there were tears.
Sigh.
I had two options: I could tell him the truth about everything, or I could simply agree with him. If I thought for one minute that he was trying to scam me, I wouldn't give in. But he is genuinely convinced that the money was his, prior to this morning.
So the tooth fairy will make another visit tonight, and deliver two quarters or some such. Maybe this makes me a bad mom, maybe not, but I honestly don't really care. I'm not quite ready to burst the bubble of early childhood.
Gee finally lost his first "real" tooth. (He's had teeth removed at the dentist, but never one that fell out on its own.) There, obviously, has been much excitement surrounding this event. Last night, he carefully placed his tooth under his pillow and (eventually) fell asleep.
Unfortunately, the tooth fairy is growing forgetful in her old(er) age, and when Gee woke up this morning, the tooth was still under his pillow, and, worse still, NO MONEY!!
Or so it seemed. When notified of this tragic event, the clever momma told him to wait a minute, and she would help him look. She then "went to the bathroom", but really found a crumpled dollar bill on her dresser. Hiding the money in her hand, Momma went into Gee's bedroom and rummaged around his bed.
"Oh, look! I found this money off the side of your bed! It must have fallen off. And I bet the tooth fairy left your tooth here for you to keep." Whew! Problem solved, right?
Not so fast.
Gee seemed satisfied for a couple of minutes, but then doubts started to creep in. Not doubts about the authenticity of the tooth fairy, oh no. Doubts about the money. In short order, he was steadfastly convinced that the dollar bill was his, from "before", and he had somehow hidden it in his bed "a couple of months ago". The tooth fairy HADN'T come, and this dollar didn't count!
All my arguments to the contrary didn't sway him ("You spent your other dollar at the pool, remember? You didn't 'hide' your money, it's in your bank!), and he got so angry and frustrated with me that there were tears.
Sigh.
I had two options: I could tell him the truth about everything, or I could simply agree with him. If I thought for one minute that he was trying to scam me, I wouldn't give in. But he is genuinely convinced that the money was his, prior to this morning.
So the tooth fairy will make another visit tonight, and deliver two quarters or some such. Maybe this makes me a bad mom, maybe not, but I honestly don't really care. I'm not quite ready to burst the bubble of early childhood.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Rain Gutter Regatta
If it's August, if it's cub scouts, then it must be the Rain Gutter Regatta.
Our cub scout committee came up with a super fun way to do the regatta--instead of buying kits for the boys, and having them bring fully made boats to pack meeting, we instead cut a pool noodle (made of foam) lengthwise, then chopped the halves into boat-sized pieces. Each child (not just the scouts, which THRILLED my littler kids) at pack meeting got a "boat", a skewer, and a sail (rectangle of foam sheet from the craft store).
Everyone made their boats, the races were haphazard (to say the least), and at least one cub proclaimed "This was the best pack meeting ever!" Can't ask for more than that!
(Last year they hollowed out zucchini and raced the "boats" in a nearby creek. With the drought this year, apparently this wasn't really an option, but it sounds fun!)
Pack meeting was held in the backyard of our cub committee chair, and since she has a passel of little kids around the same age as mine, there was plenty of fun to be had besides the races. Plus, the treat was popsicles, and that made everyone's night.
Our cub scout committee came up with a super fun way to do the regatta--instead of buying kits for the boys, and having them bring fully made boats to pack meeting, we instead cut a pool noodle (made of foam) lengthwise, then chopped the halves into boat-sized pieces. Each child (not just the scouts, which THRILLED my littler kids) at pack meeting got a "boat", a skewer, and a sail (rectangle of foam sheet from the craft store).
Everyone made their boats, the races were haphazard (to say the least), and at least one cub proclaimed "This was the best pack meeting ever!" Can't ask for more than that!
(Last year they hollowed out zucchini and raced the "boats" in a nearby creek. With the drought this year, apparently this wasn't really an option, but it sounds fun!)
Pack meeting was held in the backyard of our cub committee chair, and since she has a passel of little kids around the same age as mine, there was plenty of fun to be had besides the races. Plus, the treat was popsicles, and that made everyone's night.
Gee showing off his boat "Thunder"
Yuma, looking impossibly big, riding a little bike while wearing a princess dress.
Zee demonstrating his impressive monkey bar skills.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
LED
Turns out, when you move to a much bigger house (almost 3x bigger), you get a much bigger power bill (more than 3x bigger, sob). And so you can understand I've become a bit obsessed with making sure the kids turn off the lights already. We also added motion sensor switches for a few rooms (garage, closets, kids' bathroom, pantry), so that I'm not always coming upon an empty room and having my head explode.
(Yummy is too short to trigger the pantry light, so I often find that switch in the permanent "on" position. But she's cute, and growing, so I'll give her a pass. For now.)
We've also started exploring the fabulous world of LEDs. Neither Bradley nor I like CFLs (they don't last as long, they take a minute to light up, and the government is "forcing" is to use them. Three strikes, you're out.), but LEDs show a lot of promise. They are expensive, though...and we have a million lights.
We've been trying the L-prize Phillips light, and it is marvelous thus far. Of course, with a price like that, it has to last to make it worthwhile, and we've been using two of them for...four months. Still, the light is a warm color, the "diffusion" is great (it doesn't act like a spotlight), and so far, so good.
The problem with the Phillips light, though, is the restriction on closed fixtures. Most of our non-can lights are in closed fixtures. Bradley has discovered a brand of LED (CREE) that doesn't have the same restriction, and has a 10 year guarantee to boot. So we bought a boatload of them. Hopefully they will live up to their promise.
We've been living with burnt-out light in our stairwell for two months now, because we weren't sure how in the world we were going to reach the fixture. We have a wide staircase, and the fixture is not close to the wall. The entire idea of getting up there filled my body with dread, so I admit that I wasn't thinking about it.
But Bradley has. Using not one, but two, ladders, he arranged the big good one in a right angle, and rested one end on the other, smaller ladder, creating an upside down "U" shape. With my (reluctant) help, he moved the contraption so that the smaller ladder stood on the floor over the half-wall, the other end of the big ladder rested on the small ledge on the stair wall, and the other part of the big ladder bridged the two. (I'm sorry I didn't take a picture, but I was so freaked out by the entire concept I couldn't even think about it.)
With me holding onto the smaller ladder with all my weight, Bradley proposed to climb onto the bridge and change the light bulbs with LEDs. I would have preferred to be anywhere but there, but the idea of him tumbling to his death with only Em to see was too terrible. So I remained.
He gingerly climbed up onto the half-wall, carefully rested his hand on the bridge, and...
...realized that he could easily reach the light fixture just while standing on that half-wall.
In our defense, it really doesn't look like that would be possible. Even now, the distance looks too great. But it worked, and that horrible makeshift scaffolding didn't have to be tested.
What a relief.
(Yummy is too short to trigger the pantry light, so I often find that switch in the permanent "on" position. But she's cute, and growing, so I'll give her a pass. For now.)
We've also started exploring the fabulous world of LEDs. Neither Bradley nor I like CFLs (they don't last as long, they take a minute to light up, and the government is "forcing" is to use them. Three strikes, you're out.), but LEDs show a lot of promise. They are expensive, though...and we have a million lights.
We've been trying the L-prize Phillips light, and it is marvelous thus far. Of course, with a price like that, it has to last to make it worthwhile, and we've been using two of them for...four months. Still, the light is a warm color, the "diffusion" is great (it doesn't act like a spotlight), and so far, so good.
The problem with the Phillips light, though, is the restriction on closed fixtures. Most of our non-can lights are in closed fixtures. Bradley has discovered a brand of LED (CREE) that doesn't have the same restriction, and has a 10 year guarantee to boot. So we bought a boatload of them. Hopefully they will live up to their promise.
We've been living with burnt-out light in our stairwell for two months now, because we weren't sure how in the world we were going to reach the fixture. We have a wide staircase, and the fixture is not close to the wall. The entire idea of getting up there filled my body with dread, so I admit that I wasn't thinking about it.
But Bradley has. Using not one, but two, ladders, he arranged the big good one in a right angle, and rested one end on the other, smaller ladder, creating an upside down "U" shape. With my (reluctant) help, he moved the contraption so that the smaller ladder stood on the floor over the half-wall, the other end of the big ladder rested on the small ledge on the stair wall, and the other part of the big ladder bridged the two. (I'm sorry I didn't take a picture, but I was so freaked out by the entire concept I couldn't even think about it.)
With me holding onto the smaller ladder with all my weight, Bradley proposed to climb onto the bridge and change the light bulbs with LEDs. I would have preferred to be anywhere but there, but the idea of him tumbling to his death with only Em to see was too terrible. So I remained.
He gingerly climbed up onto the half-wall, carefully rested his hand on the bridge, and...
...realized that he could easily reach the light fixture just while standing on that half-wall.
In our defense, it really doesn't look like that would be possible. Even now, the distance looks too great. But it worked, and that horrible makeshift scaffolding didn't have to be tested.
What a relief.
Monday, August 26, 2013
On the Brink
I know it is still August, but during the last few days I have felt the barest whisper of autumn. It comes in with our brief monsoon rains, the fresh almost-chill in the morning, and the way the clouds hug the mountaintops. Welcome, to my very favorite time of year!
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Relief Society Retreat
Our women's group at church had an overnight retreat this weekend, held at a member's cabin down at Schofield Reservoir. After Bradley got home last night, I drove down with another late-goer--it's about a ninety minute drive. (Mema left with the earliest group at around ten, and another group left at three.)
It was so fun! Like a giant slumber party with ladies from 18 to...um...seventy-something. We ate really well, thanks to two husbands who came with their wives, and shared spiritual thoughts as well as absolutely ridiculous games (anyone remember "In the manner of the adverb"?), and stayed up late. Crazy fun.
I was really grateful to get to know everyone better--it's a process that is slow but sure (I hope!).
(I didn't take any pictures, but stole these from my new friend Cary.)
It was so fun! Like a giant slumber party with ladies from 18 to...um...seventy-something. We ate really well, thanks to two husbands who came with their wives, and shared spiritual thoughts as well as absolutely ridiculous games (anyone remember "In the manner of the adverb"?), and stayed up late. Crazy fun.
I was really grateful to get to know everyone better--it's a process that is slow but sure (I hope!).
(I didn't take any pictures, but stole these from my new friend Cary.)
A few of us went on a walk this morning, and there was a draw full of these lacy weeds, each one coated with hundreds of dew droplets. Gorgeous!
Down at the water's edge, inspecting the (dead) crawdads. (I'm the farthest left)
Friday, August 23, 2013
Three Years Old
Reminding myself why I don't want to sell this adorable sweet girl to the gypsies.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Tea Party (Better Late Than Ever)
One weekend in July, most of my Tobler nieces and nephews gathered in Salt Lake and Utah County for Tea and Torture. (Official Name: 3rd Annual Torture Camp/Tea Party Extravaganza!) We totally and completely missed the Arizona Roy family, but someday we will get you up here!
The boys were up in Sandy, for a Pirate Torture Camp that thrilled them all. They started with a scavenger hunt, ran through obstacle courses, watched a pirate movie, and ate my brother David's delicious food. I don't have pictures, however, so we'll have to ask some of the gentlemen pirates to provide some.
It certainly was a nice weekend for the gals, as we lounged here at my house and ate deliciously, laughed long, and played well together. Six nieces, five aunts/moms/grandmas = nice ratio. Much easier than the time that my sister Telima did hosted all by herself, or the time she and Mom hosted together.
On Friday evening, after dinner and a (partial) movie, we roasted marshmallows, made s'mores, and baked nanabees in our little backyard fire pit. The girls had SO much fun playing (in the dirt, even), outside in the deepening dusk of a hot summer day. Bay (just turned 4) and Yummy (not quite 3 at the time) were especially adorable, playing some elaborate game that Bay thought up. Yummy was so thrilled that Bay plays with her. She really looks up to that cousin of ours. And, of course, our newest niece SJ was the cutest thing around, even if she wouldn't nap. (Oh, and I promise that David's wife Autumn and I were there--I was behind the camera and I somehow never got a complete picture of Autumn outside. Sorry!)
The next morning, after a yummy breakfast of crepes and whipped cream and every topping you can think of, the girls carefully created their placemats for the tea party. Em has a "Fancy Nancy Tea Party" book from Grandma Ross, and she was so excited to do some of the activities from the book (like the placemats). She even doled out some of her precious hoarded stick-on gems for the event. (See, Autumn was there!)
Then it was time to create new jewelry, dress up, paint nails, and start the tea party. Yummy loved the hat and the gloves, even if they did create a bit of trouble in consuming the treats before her.
Bay was such a beautiful doll. We made polite conversation in the "parlor" before having tea, and she thought I was the weirdest person on the earth for some of the questions I asked. ("Have you read any of Miss Austen's rather marvelous books? No? Well, I do recommend them!")
And then there were our three biggest girls--they were so fun to watch, mincing along, trying to keep up with the polite conversation, not get "tea" (pink lemonade) on their dresses, and don't forget to stick that pinky finger out! Sweet belles of the tea table, indeed!
We had a great (though somewhat exhausting) time, and it was such a joy to hang out with such marvelous ladies. Till next year!
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
First Day of School, 2013
The boys went off together at 8am, and it was awesome to watch Zee help Gee. Em goes to school at 9:15, and for once, she was up without needing prodding. (I shall savor this rare event. My little night-owl would sleep until 11 am if she could. Not unlike her mother.)
Hebs and Yummy are especially needy this morning, probably because they are missing their sibs. Next year, Yummy will be the only one home for at least part of the day. And then the year after that, Yummy will be in kindergarten--my one year of all five in the same school.
It seems unreal that, in two years, all my children will be in school. Whoa.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Immerse Yourself
It's time to go back to school (where did the summer go??), and, of course, that means it is time for our fifth annual Back to School Celebration.
I didn't even think of making crowns this year--I completely forgot that I have in the past!--but we had a good time getting ready for our celebratory dinner anyway.
We used rubber duckies for place holders. (Sadly, they are loud squeaky rubber duckies. I am regretting it already.)
Turns out, it's hard to get a good picture when the whole room is backlit by the window. Oh, well.
I made a bunch of little raindrops and wrote messages on them: [Immerse yourself] In Family, In Play, In Learning, In Math, In Art, In Friends, etc. The kids asked why I was hanging up tear drops. Oh, well. :)
The swedish fish were a big hit with certain children . (Zee decided they were the "first" course of the meal.)
My gorgeous Em--a third grader already!--and happy first grader Gee. (Don't you love Em's glasses? I was in third grade when I got my first pair of glasses, too. I'm sorry she got my eyesight, but have you ever seen a cuter girlie?)
My giant fourth grader Zee (who doesn't need glasses, but he is a trifle far-sighted, just as his father was at this age), my totally eager for school Hebs (he doesn't turn five until November, so next year, boyo!), and my angry-as-all-get-out-that-SHE-doesn't-get-to-go-to-school Yummy ("No, Mommy! I big! I big to go to school tomorrow!!" She's three.)
This is our first full year at this school, and we are very excited to be jumping in at the beginning, instead of at the middle. I signed up for about a hundred different volunteer things, so we'll see how that works. Zee is going to be taking ballroom dance lessons at the school once a week (it's only for fourth grade and up, so Em has to wait another year), and with Gee in Portuguese Immersion, well, we're going to be busy! And happy.
Here's to another year of immersing ourselves in life!
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