pestilence, presidents, pie

Staring across the room from his perch on my bed, William my ever inquisitive four-year old asked, "Mom, why are there clothes in your closet?"

"Well son," I responded thoughtfully. "Ideally that's how it should happen."

So by Valentine's day laundry was an issue again.  This time I noticed a back log not only with the clean, but also with the wet and stinky.  I started a personal campaign against the towels.

"We're Democrats," I said to the kids.  "Democrats means reuse."

"But Mom, sharing towels can give you genital herpes."

"Really?" I asked.  "Spontaneously?"  And for the first time I wished I had let my seventh grade son ditch maturation day, as requested.

"Then you'd better not share with the rabbits," I said, remembering how lagomorph bath day had increased my work by a full load of extra large, super absorbent, navy blue bath towels covered in white fur.

"Mom, that's disgusting." He replied.

"Well you're the one who brought it up," I said. And that ended the discussion, but unfortunately, not the dirty towels.

President's Day weekend brought some progress. I had opportunity to ease the clean clothes pile growing up the side of my bedroom wall.  As is usually the case, Friday evening Sam and Ben insisted we go to the Orem Library--which has the world's best collection of movie rentals in its basement.  Sam picked out School of Rock, because I had been calling myself a Jack Black fan and hadn't seen it.  It was a movie that all ages were eager to watch. Even baby Sophie knows Jack Black by name. Everyone agreed to gather by the little T.V. in my bedroom so I could put away laundry as we watched. I took particular pleasure in watching Grant"s "gut busting" laughter at Jack Black's dance moves and facial expressions. School of Rock has become the next movie I can't get enough of, but if you decide to watch it with your family, don't blame me for the raunchy language, or get mad at me when your kids tell you to step off for the next week anytime you ask them to do something.  You can check IMBD for yourself.

Sunday was Stake conference--which Olivia referred to as "that thing we're always late to."  So remembering our 2010 experience. I suggested we pick up Grandma Martha and head out on another picnic and Temple Square trip. Sam agreed that could possibly be less stressful than chasing William around the Stake center.
As it turned out--it probably wasn't.  William terrorized the North visitors center at Temple Square, tearing up and down the ramp leading to the Cristus statue surrounded by planetarium, or Moon Jesus, as Sam called it when he was a toddler. I felt out of sorts and wondered how, after 15 years, I felt no more capable of achieving reverence at church sites than before--remembering the time we visited Palmyra, New York, and Sam and Ben ran around like wildlife in the Sacred Grove...or so it was called before we arrived.  Now in retrospect, chasing frogs in the woods seems like a perfectly reasonable activity for young boys...but parental angst and anxiety are so often self-inflicted.  I'm sure the the sister missionaries weren't really shooting poisonous darts at me with their eyes Sunday afternoon at Temple Square...but it kind of felt like it at the time.

On the happy side, I was grateful that the kids were all willing to spend the afternoon together.  Something about President's day makes me delusional and over-optimistic about eating outdoors.  Everyone was enthusiastic about returning to Grist Mill Park, the little strip of grass and stream in the city, where we had our picnic in fall of 2010, so we took a drive around the beautiful old homes in the Salt Lake City Avenues until I happened upon the familiar place.


  As we passed out the sandwiches, Bethany hijacked my phone for the purpose of taking pictures of people looking miserably cold, but insistent upon eating at the benches all but buried in snow.






  When the wind picked up and blew across the still very frozen ground all agreed we could eat in van. I felt grateful  for good sports, barring a minor scuffle over the bag of Chicken and Waffle flavored Ruffles.




Monday I made good on a promise to Caitlin and took the girls and youngest boys to Classic Skate.





In the evening, Kyle and Olivia spent time with their friends Nathan and Tracy, and I enjoyed time with their Mom, Cami, while I cleaned the kitchen and served up dinner.  We have somewhat of a traditional President's day meal-- in honor of Abraham Lincoln's favorite meal Chicken Fricassee, and in honor (loosely) of George Washington and his cherry tree--pie.  We skipped the chicken altogether in favor of beans and rice from the Mexican market, and Olivia helped me make a raspberry pie.


This was her first pie. She managed the crust all by herself, as I was distracted by another man-to-man with Kyle. Good job Olivia!

troupers

We had a little bit of winter weather this weekend.  But first, Friday.  I was back to Olivia's classroom.  She was celebrating her half birthday, since her real birthday is in August.  I took in Uhura the hamster so Olivia could talk about her as part of her VIP presentation.

Friday night Sam, Ben, and Bethany went to see The Unknown. They had a good time but weren't over impressed. Ben said it was too much like the Jason Bourne movies, one of his favorite series.  Kyle spent the weekend with a friend.  Saturday they went to Kyle's second Monster Truck Madness show.  I'm jealous. Grave Digger was there.

I spent another Saturday cleaning.  The girls and Grant and William wanted to go out for a walk in the rain just to use their umbrellas.  It was easy to convince Sam to go as well.  I love Sam's gadget love, even for umbrellas.

Sunday we woke up to snow.  Bethany was getting picked up early because she was going to sing in Stake conference with the activity day girls. I wasn't sure that I should take the van out, due to fact that it was still snowing and remembering the last time when I had to abandon the van up the street.  Sam volunteered to walk up to the Stake Center so that Bethany would have a family member in the audience.  I felt grateful that he is such a good older brother.

I felt like spending the day at home with nothing to do would be under stimulating, so I took the willing, made the unwilling babysit Sophie and we all hiked up the hill together.

Sam's Sunday creation.

Monday was Presidents' Day. I didn't have the heart to make, what we declared last year, would be our traditional meal. Two birthdays and a funeral  was one of my favorite posts of 2010.

I have been looking at the mountains all winter and hoping for Spring to come so we could go to the canyon again. I decided it was springtime enough. So after a morning of more cleaning, we loaded up the van.  First stop was haircuts for the boys, picked up Grandma Martha, then to the car wash, always worth the money for the excitement of the sprays and brushes alone.

Then we went up to the canyon for our survivalist picnic. It's always colder in the canyon.

I took this picture right before the kids, with remarkable politeness, requested that we finish lunch in the van.

Ben took these pictures.

two birthdays and a funeral

I have compulsive move planning disorder. I would like to escape from my own thoughts about moving...but the question is where...

and then I'm back to planning.

My mind is like a radio on search mode, looking for a signal strong enough to land on. I think about the familiar comforts of this place and the opportunities in that place. I hear Mary singing in Chinese, a song about a "little well-behaved rabbit" and I think "stay in China."

But the sun also rises in Beijing, in a word, eerily, like the mysterious dawning of a new red orb shrouded in grey film.

"Is that the moon Mama?" "Is that Mars?"

...and health issues become a concern. Airlift us please! We need real sunlight.

Here's a picture of Thursday morning. I just sent the kids off to the bus stop. I hope they find their way. I'm sure this is mostly fog, but it doesn't smell good.

I think about how to make everyone happy. Saturday morning I was getting Grant ready for the day.

"Mama, I go see lion." He said.

I think about a place with a good zoo...Salt Lake City, D.C.

"I go jungle." He says with a roar.

Sorry Grant. I'm not thinking about Africa.

Saturday afternoon, Olivia and Sora were looking for something on the refrigerator.

"Where's that picture of Michael Jackson?" She asked.

"You mean the magnet I bought in Nashville?" I asked.

"That's Elvis."

Easy mistake. Does anyone have a copy of Third Culture Kids?

What does any of this have to do with cherry pie? Monday February 22, we celebrated George Washington's birthday with our traditional cherry pie.

I think it's kind of too bad that we have President's Day and Martin Luther King Day on a convenient Monday, It makes me forget the real date, and you don't feel the real aura of history. Having said that, we also celebrated Abraham Lincoln Monday night, with our second annual Chicken Fricassee dinner. Last year, I had Kyle Google Abraham Lincoln's favorite foods, that's what we came up with.

It took me all day to make this and the pie . I think everyone would have preferred if I had stopped at the crunchy fried chicken pieces stage...

... but after the frying stage you have to add water to make a gravy and then boil the dumplings in it.

I couldn't sleep Monday night. That meal was so rich that when I closed my eyes, I just saw simmering dumplings.

Monday afternoon, Ben made a sad discovery. Stripe, his turtle of two years had passed on. He was heartbroken and in tears, but cheered up when I suggested a burial.

Grant pronounced the eulogy.

"Turtle is died."