Bloom Where You're Planted

School starts tomorrow, for my two oldest kids (kindergarten starts a week later), and that means it's time for our fourth annual back to school celebration!  (2009, 2010, 2011)  Open house up at the elementary school was today, and we met all the teachers.  It should be a good couple of months.

Our theme this year is "Bloom Where You're Planted."  I've been thinking a lot about this phrase.  We're moving mid-school year (hopefully by Christmas), and so the kids are going to have to say good-bye to their friends, teachers, and classrooms and face all new people and situations. If there is one thing I want my kids to learn--besides to depend upon the Lord and keep His commandments--it is that they are in charge of their lives.  They can choose to be happy no matter what the circumstance, or they can choose to be miserable.  I want them to choose happiness.

While we were eating our gourmet meal of pizza boats, chips, and (of course) apple juice, we talked about making the best of our situation.  Zee told a story about an acorn blown away from the nice, comfortable soil into a rocky wasteland.  Instead of giving up, the acorn chose to dig deep and grown tall and strong.  I don't know how much the younger kids understood, but that's par for the course.

After dinner, Daddy talked about priesthood blessings, using stories from Joseph Smith's and Harold B. Lee's lives to illustrate.  Then he gave each child--even the two pre-school littles--a father's blessing.  It was very sweet to watch all my kids take their turn on the kitchen chair, Bradley placing his hands on their heads.  He even gave me a blessing, for which I am very grateful. 

Dessert followed.  The kids were quite excited about my little creation--brownies baked in jam jars, with crushed Oreo "dirt" and gummy worms on top.  That is, they were excited until it was actually time to eat it.  Gee didn't want any (big surprise, not), Zee took two bites, Em and Hebs ate about half, and Yummy made a gigantic mess.  Sigh.  The desserts looked cool, anyway.

 This summer has flown by, and I'm excited to see what autumn brings us.  Happy Back-to-School!

Seaside, Oregon

After tackling the monstrous mountain of laundry and the ever-necessary rotation of clothes, I am ready to tell you more about our amazing summer vacation!  You might think, that simply because it was the absolute COOLEST part of the trip, that seeing Mount Saint Helens was the only thing we did.  But you would be wrong!  We did so many awesome things, it's going to take many posts to record them all.  And I'm starting backwards, with the stuff we did at the end, just because I can.  Heh.

After saying good-bye to Steph's family and leaving Mt St Helens on Sunday evening, we decided to drive to the Oregon coast to see the real, live ocean.  (We'd been around the Puget Sound, and the Straits of Juan de Fuca, but always with other islands or land nearby.  I wanted the kids to see the awesomeness that is the horizon-stretching, never-ending OCEAN.)  We chose Seaside, Oregon, because...well, it was the closest beachy shoreline.  Finding the town was no trouble, finding a place to park the motorhome and sleep was a different story.  There is no overnight parking in Seaside.  Fortunately, there was a little gravelly area just outside of town that the nice policeman directed us to.

On Monday morning, we awoke, ate breakfast, and drove into town.  We decided to explore the Seaside Aquarium on the boardwalk.  It was exactly what the reviews online stated--small, chintzy, kitschy, and perfect for our little kiddos.  It was about half the size of a supermarket, with real live harbour seals as the main attraction.  We bought severed fish parts (ugh) to feed to the seals--the kids were alternately fascinated and a little freaked out.  A little petting pool let the children touch sea cucumbers and anemones and other tide pool creatures.  We were only there for about an hour, the kids had a great time and only Zee got a little bored at the end.

Sea slugs and crabs and who knows what else.

And then we walked out to the beach.  We had a long walk to the waves, as the water was at low tide.  The kids were hilarious, making "sand angels" and picking up sticks.  Sadly, the wind was pretty chilly off the water, and we had chosen not to dress in swimsuits.  That didn't stop us from frolicking in the water, though...

 The beach was pretty huge, and pretty empty.  Hooray!

 Hebs was fascinated with the waves.  We never got a good picture of his face at the beach, because he was always turned away, looking out at the water.  (Or maybe he was following my advice, "Never turn your back on the ocean.")

Zee and Em had the MOST fun, dashing in and out of the waves.  Their clothes were unspeakable messes by the time we were done, but it was so worth it!  (Says the woman who is STILL finding sand in pockets.) 

The littles stayed with Daddy, mostly out of the water.

Gee wasn't interested in getting close to the waves.  He loved building castles, though.  I found sticks and feathers, shells and broken sand dollars for him, and he decorated his building.  However, the tide was coming in...which meant that eventually his sand castle washed away.  This is why you don't build your house in the sand!  (A sneaker wave came up, really far, and while the two older kids and I were shouting to warn Daddy and the littles, they didn't hear us over the waves and got a bit wet.  Gee was fairly philosophical about his wet pants and lost castle, though.  Whew.)

 I think he had a good time, don't you?

I don't love hot-sun-bikinis-crowds-sunburns beaches.  But I have discovered that I LOVE the ocean.  The waves, the shells, the sounds, the smells...wow.  Love. 

Miss Yum Yum, however, didn't love the sand on her face.  That's what you get when you have a runny nose and sandy hands, sweetheart!

Fortunately, big sister is there to help.  I love this sweet picture. 

I wish Bradley was in this picture, too. 

Em's experience, in a nutshell.  She had a wonderful time!  (And how in the world did she get so tall and almost...gangly?  She's growing up too fast!!!!)

Momma, ON A VOLCANO

When I was wee--eight years old, to be precise--I did a book report on Mt St Helens.  I was just beginning my life-long obsession with all things eruptive, and learning about a volcano that had blown its top, just five years previously, utterly fascinated me.  Mt St Helens, along with Mauna Loa and Kileaua, are my original favorite volcanoes.  I visited Mauna Loa and Kileaua in 1998, and again in 2000, but I never made it up to the Pacific Northwest.

Until now.

Our Ross Family Reunion was held in Seattle this year, and we decided to make a real road trip of it.  We rented a motorhome off an ad on KSL classifieds, and took a volcanic detour to see the Snake River Plain, the Columbia River Gorge, and...best of all...the Cascades volcanoes, including my beloved Mt St Helens.

Happy sigh.

We got there on Wednesday morning, and it was everything I could have hoped for.  I was so excited, hopping out at every turnout to look and snap pictures and sigh and wipe tears away.  And then Bradley--my patient, wonderful, loving husband--did something for me that was just AMAZING.

He bought me a helicopter tour of the crater.

I KNOW!!!!!  Most husbands buy flowers or chocolates or jewelry, but my husband knows me very well indeed.  Despite the price, despite the fact that, since we have little kids, he couldn't come with me, despite the fact that we had to buy two tickets anyway (they don't take the helicopter up with just one person, and there weren't any other takers), despite the fact that we had to schedule it for Sunday which meant we had to come back to the volcano after the family reunion...he really wanted me to have this experience.

I have the best husband EVER!!

And what an experience it was!  My best geology friend from undergrad days lives outside of Portland.  Stephanie and I were practically inseparable in our undergrad classes--people thought we must be roommates, we hung out so much--and we've kept in touch through the years.  So, on Bradley's suggestion, I called and asked if she wanted to take a helicopter tour of the volcano with me.

Of course she did!  We--with our families--met up on Sunday evening.

The kids were terribly disappointed that the moms were going on this adventure without them.  Tough luck, kiddos!  (I explained to Zee that I had been 21 when I went on my first (and only other) helicopter ride (in Hawaii), and that he might have to wait that long for his.  He was not impressed.)  We waved goodbye to our husbands and children and...away we went!

I love this picture of Zee.  Does that make me a bad mom?

Our pilot thought it was funny that we were leaving the kids with the dads, that we were geologists--he joked that I would have to give the tour--and that we were so excited.  He was a great guide, flying the helicopter around to give us the best views and angles.  It was a pretty short tour--only about 25-30 minutes long--but we got to see SO MUCH.  Just looking at the landscape and thinking about the devastation and destruction 32 years ago, and how much it has changed--amazing.  Our pilot pointed out trees still floating on the lakes, decades later, and the way the rivers were carving the landslide and ash.

(I am going to write a whole geology post, with pictures, about the trip, so I won't bore you with all the volcanology stuff right now.)

Pre-flight picture--getting so excited!

 Bonus for me:  Steph is a really good photographer.  So, of the pictures below, the ones that are awesome are hers, and the ones that are...um...less awesome are mine.  Heh.

I got to be in the co-pilot's seat.  It was amazing and a little freaky--there were windows in the foot wells! 

The windows bubbled out, so you could get an amazing view without feeling (much) like you were going to fall out. 

Steph with the lava dome in the background.

Fumeroles (steam vents) in the crater, on the 2006 lava dome.  Awesome picture, Steph!

 As we were approaching, Steph got this great picture of the whole mountain--at least, what is left of it.

 It's amazing that less than 33 years later, the mountain is already starting to fill herself back in.

After we returned to earth--in more ways than one--we drove to an area with a playground for the kids.  As they ran, climbed, slid, and hollered, Jacob and Steph and Bradley and I sat and talked and talked and talked.  The Morgans are building a house, same as us--they are ahead of us, having already dug the basement and poured the concrete footings--and so we spent hours talking about that.  It was so enjoyable, I'm so sad that we don't live closer.  Fortunately for us, most of Steph's family lives here in Utah, so they come visit fairly frequently.

Cheese!  Just think, just 17 years ago (um, 17???), we were two scrawny freshman geology majors, so excited to be at college and studying the earth.  Where has the time gone?

Thanks for coming out for an awesome adventure, Steph, Jacob, and kiddos.  We loved spending time with you!

IKEA resolution

I was finally contacted by IKEA on Wednesday, one week after I sent the email off.  The manager over Smaland, M., had been away on personal leave, and the store manager has been on vacation.  (I wondered if that was the situation.)

The US IKEA policy to allow disabled diapered children in Smaland is a somewhat recent one, having taken effect last August.  However, Draper IKEA chose not to incorporate the change into their Smaland policies.  The explanation given was that the Draper store has the highest admittance of children into Smaland--an average of 22-30 children per hour, where most stores have 8-12 children a day.  Because diapered children have a greater risk of toilet accidents, they choose not to allow them in.  (They are currently "re-evaluating" this decision.  Because of me?  Who knows?)

(Aside:  I don't doubt that diapers and pullups can leak, and of course they aren't set up to change diapers there.  It just seems to me that you would have FEWER accidents with diapered children.  And I will just note that, when we went to IKEA on Thursday, the ball pit was closed because someone had piddled in it.  This isn't the first time my children have reported that.)

However, the Draper store does have a policy of taking reservations for disabled children.  (They reduce the ratio of children to workers whenever there is a disabled child at Smaland, hence the need for the reservation.)  M. apologized profusely that I was not given this option last Wednesday.  After asking when next I would be visiting the store, she then made an appointment for all of my children (except, of course, Yummy) and my niece Kay to be allowed into Smaland at two the next afternoon.

(Another aside:  My sister arrived at IKEA a couple of minutes ahead of me.  She checked at the Smaland desk to make sure we were expected, and told the employee there my name.  When she heard that, the employee turned to her co-worker and said, "Okay, Keryn is coming."  Apparently they were given special instructions about us, which included allowing the kids to stay in the play area for 90 minutes, instead of the usual half hour.  Which was awesome.)  Although Gee was disappointed by the aforementioned ballpit closure, he had a great time!

So.  Apparently the Draper IKEA's policy is a distinction without a difference, since they DO admit disabled children, but only with a reservation.  I am grateful for this information, and I am grateful for the assistance that we were given.  It was not the most pleasant experience, but I think that IKEA has stepped up and did everything they could to fix it.  I feel comfortable shopping there.

Thanks for all the sweet comments you all left for me, both on my blog and on facebook.  I am really grateful for such good friends!

Save the drama for your mama...

I'm grateful to live in this day and age.  Not only do we get indoor plumbing and high-speed internet, but nowadays, people are aware of and try to accommodate disabilities.  The ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) certainly helps in this respect, both legally and socially.  People are just better equipped to deal with disabilities anymore, and that's a very good thing.

What this means, however, is when I run smack up against an unreasonable restriction for my Gee, I'm less prepared for it.  I don't have defenses up, or coping strategies.  And that results in an emotionally draining and difficult time for this momma, not to mention to sadness and confusion and disappointment for my boy.

Today was such a day.  

The local (well, sort of local, it's about 50 minutes away) IKEA has a childcare playplace--maybe all of them do?--which allows you to drop off your children for an hour while you shop and they have a fabulous time.  Of course, there are restrictions--children have to be between 36 and 54 inches tall (or something like that), they have to be toilet-trained, and they have to be able to follow instructions.  It's a super fun place, and my older two have been regaling the younger boys with tales of the ball pit, and the swinging forest, and the movies, and the slide, and the general aura of fun and novelty in the "Småland" place.

As we prepare to build our house, Mema and I thought it would be fun to explore IKEA with an eye to our new needs.  Two of my sisters (LaDale, visiting from Colorado, and Telima) thought an outing would be fun.  Kay, my niece, is newly toilet-trained, as is Hebs.  What fun for them, to go to the playplace for the first time.  The only hitch was Gee--it would be really hard to let Hebs do something so fun, but not let Gee, the older brother, do the same.

Gee isn't, and won't be properly toilet-trained for a while.  A long while, if other children with spina bifida are any indication.  We are working on it, but it is a looooong process.  Rather than leave Gee out, my sister decided to call IKEA and find out if they have special accommodations for disabled children.  She spoke to a representative who informed her that disabled children, as long as they can remove their shoes (as all the children in Småland must), respond to instructions, and are the right height, are exempt from the toilet-trained rule.  Diapers or pull-ups are acceptable.

Great!  I finally felt comfortable enough to tell Gee and Hebs we were going to IKEA, and they would get to go into the playplace finally!  They were both suitably excited, and asked every ten minutes if it was time to leave yet.

We arrived at IKEA, removed everyone's shoes, filled out the paperwork, and waited for the Småland to open.  Gee kept talking about the ball pit, and Zee was thrilled to be able to show Gee around.  Finally, it was time!  We moved up to the counter and began getting wristbands and name stickers.  I mentioned to the employee that one of my sons is disabled, and wearing a diaper, but that he was totally checked out with the requirements.  

And that is when everything came to a screeching stop.

"Oh, he can't come in, then," the girl said.  "No diapers are allowed."

"Actually, we called ahead of time and we were told it was okay, so long as all the other requirements were met..."

She started shaking her head before I finished.  "No, I'm sorry, the rule is no diapers.  At all."  Her co-worker agreed.

I began to feel a little frustrated, but, honestly, I didn't expect them to know all the ins and outs of the policies.  "Could you ask a manager for me?  Because we did call and speak to an IKEA representative."

She quite happily did so.  It took some time, because the first two people she called were not at work today.  Meanwhile the line behind me grew longer.  Finally, she returned.

"I spoke to one of our managers, and we are very sorry, but the rule is no diapers.  I'm really sorry, he can't come in.  I can have him come down and talk to you, if you want."

Keep in mind, my children and niece (and my mother) were all gathered around me.  The children were not paying attention to the adult conversation--they were bouncing up and down, excited to be so close.  Gee kept tugging on my hand, asking when they would open the little door.

For a split second, I wanted to snatch the paperwork back from her, take the shoe-filled box, and tell her, "Then I guess IKEA doesn't need my money."  (Well, to be honest, they don't.)  But I knew I shouldn't, because Kay had worked hard to "earn" this outing, and the other kids shouldn't have to miss out, either. Blinking back tears, I turned to Mema.  "Will you get the other kids signed in?" I pulled Gee's DAFOs (his braces) and shoes out of the basket and took Gee's hand.  "Come with me, bud."

We walked over to the big window, across the big lobby from the Smaland entrance.  

"Momma, why are we walking over here?  Where are we going?  I want to go with Zee."

I didn't know how to tell him.  I was trying really hard not to cry myself, so I just said, "Gee, it turns out...you aren't going to get to go into the playplace.  I'm really sorry, but they won't let you in because you have to wear diapers."

His face just crumpled, and he started to bawl and bawl.  I scooped him up and cuddled and whispered and cried a little, myself.  I told him that someone had made a mistake, and that I would try to figure it out, but that he didn't get to go in today.  

After about five minutes of crying (some of it was loud, but I wasn't really feeling like I needed to keep him quiet, if you know what I mean.  I was NOT feeling especially charitable toward IKEA right then.), he gradually calmed down.  I told him he got to come with me and Yummy, and Grandma and Aunt LaDale, etc, and that we were going to explore upstairs.  He let me put him down, and while Grandma helped him get his DAFOs and shoes on, I went back over to Småland.  

"I would like to talk to a manager, if you wouldn't mind." Intellectually, I knew it wasn't those poor girls' fault that my boy was feeling rejected and crushed, so I tried very hard to be pleasant.  As she called the manager, she apologized once more.  I told her I understood that she had to go by what the policy said.

B., the manager, was properly apologetic about the mixed messages.  He told me that while he wasn't the manager in charge of the Småland area, he was familiar with the policies, and as far as he knew, there was no exception for the diaper rule.  I told him I was disappointed that we had troubled to call and get information, only to be told after making the 50 minute trip that we were misinformed. Would he be willing to find out exactly what went wrong?  

B said that customer service calls were all answered back east in a call center, instead of at the local store, even if you dialed the store's local number.  Perhaps policies were different according to which state, although he didn't think that was the case.  He asked for a bit of time to call the manager over the  Småland area, and then he would see what he could do to provide a bit of compensation for our trouble. That was fine with me, and I gave him my cell number.

About twenty minutes later, he found us up on the showroom floor.  (My cell doesn't get a very strong signal in IKEA, apparently.)  According to the Småland manager, the policy was nation-wide, and was a public health concern.  B said that the manager was very angry that we had been misinformed, and would definitely be taking the situation up with the call center.  He offered us several vouchers for free meals and frozen yogurt, which I accepted.  I also asked for and received his email address, so that I could follow up if necessary.

The whole mess left me drained and crabby, but I tried my best to make sure Gee had a great time.  He seemed pretty happy until we were leaving.  Then, suddenly, he began to cry.

"But...but...I was going to go into the ball pit!  I didn't get to go into the ball pit yet!"

Oh, my heart just broke into a million little pieces.  Apparently he thought that I was going to be able to fix everything, and he'd still get to go to the playplace today.  I loved and cuddled and whispered to him, but it wasn't pleasant.  Eventually, Zee cheered him up with promises of favorite computer games and fun, and we made it out to the van.

We stopped to eat lunch with Daddy, and while the kids drank apple juice and ate pizza, Bradley and I discussed our next step.  Such a national policy seems wrong, and possibly against ADA laws, although the wording of the pertinent section was ambiguous.  We resolved to write a short (much shorter than this blog post, that's for sure) to the local store head manager, and then take it from there.  But first I would try to recreate Telima's phone call, and see if I got the same answer.

When we got home, I set the kids to watching shows, and made my call.  After being on hold for fifteen minutes, I reached T., a very helpful gentleman in a call center back east.  I asked him for the policy, and I was surprised but, somehow, NOT surprised when he told me...exactly what Telima had been told.  There was no barrier to entry for disabled children who are not toilet-trained.

I asked him to send me an email with the policy attached, and he quickly did so.  He offered to call Draper IKEA and talk to them so Gee could get in, but then realized I was no longer there.  He apologized several times, and was a right pleasant man to work with.  (Actually, everyone was.  Confused, some of them, but very pleasant.)

So that's where we are right now.  The policy, for those who care, is as follows (emphasis added):

Småland is located at the main entrance of the store. There are no exceptions to the rules of admission. The child must be between 37" to 54 " in height and the child MUST be potty trained, no pull ups are allowed. Socks must be worn. Same parent must sign the child in and out and must have ID present. Playtime is limited to 1 hour and on a first come, first serve basis. IKEA Family members get an extra 30 minutes! (capacity-depending) No food products are allowed inside the Småland area.

Children with disabilities are welcome in Småland as long as they meet the Småland requirements. They are however exempt from the toilet training requirement and may be admitted into Småland with the use of a diaper or pull-up. A child with any limitations must be able to function in the area independent of direct supervision and must be able to respond to instruction. Please be aware that Service Animals are permitted in Småland. See Handicap Services above for more info!

What my next step?  Well, I'm going to write that email to the head manager.  It sounds like there has been a misunderstanding about national policies, and maybe just bringing this to his/her attention will get it straightened out. If it isn't a misunderstanding...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

And, if we can get all this figured out, maybe sometime next week we can take Gee to Småland, and erase the disappointment of today.

Whew!

Sorry about the radio silence there for a couple of days.  Short version:  On Friday, we got another bit of news that potentially was going to cause us to walk away from our beautiful lot, and I spent all weekend stewing over it.  But, lo!  In the morning the sun comes up, the birds start singing, and (more to the point) the Lindon City Offices opened and our builder could get the required records.  It turns out that all is well, glory, glory, hallelujah etc.

(It suddenly occurs to me that I never told you the end of the electrical line saga.  Ooops.  Yes, we can build a one story building on the lot, as long as we position it correctly.  Since we only wanted a one story building--with a basement--all is well.) 

Long version:  On Friday Mema and I went over to the Lindon City Offices to look over some stuff and get the final "okay" on two front doors.  (Yes, we can have two front doors, as long as we don't try to permit Mema's part of the house as a separate apartment.)  While there, we looked over parts of the geotech report from the creation of the subdivision.  (This was my classic blunder.  No, I didn't get into a land war in Asia, but I DID think that I only needed the parts of the report that dealt specifically with our lot.  Thus overlooking the maps and diagrams at the beginning of the report.)

In scanning the geotech report, I discovered something very ominous.  In 2006 (an average-to-slightly wet year), when the survey was completed, the groundwater was measured at between 6.5 and 12 feet deep.  (That's a mighty big range of groundwater level.)  The report recommended that the lowest level start at least three feet ABOVE groundwater.

This was a potential dealbreaker.  If we can't build up (electrical lines) and we can't build down (water table), then what can you do?  Even building a one story BIG house is dicey, because of the location of the electrical lines.  The big question:  Where, exactly, was the water table at OUR lot?  If it was the 12 footer, we're golden.  If it was the 6 footer, we're sunk.  If it is anything in between, who knows?

Our (extended) due diligence ends today (Monday), so first thing this morning, our builder got the full record, and took it out to the site to look things over.  To my everlasting relief, the test well dug on our lot was on the lowest part of the property, about two feet lower than the house site.  And the groundwater was at 11 feet.  WHEW!

So we are good to go.  We will close this week, and meet with our long suffering builder to finalize our plans and put them out to bid.  (There's part of the answer, Ashley!)

And everyone who expressed interest in helping us make our plans lovely and perfect, thanks!  I'm excited to hear what you have to say.  (Even if you have never build a house before, Marianne!)

Here are the very rough preliminary plans (click to enlarge):

 First floor

Basement floor
(Yes, our master bedroom is in the basement.  This is for cost and size reasons, and isn't likely to change.  Just FYI.)

Pictorial Ode to the First (Real) Rain of the Summer

Did you pray for rain on Sunday?

Now might be a good time for a little prayer of thanksgiving!