Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to Mrs. Black.

A couple weeks ago, Cait declared that Mrs. Black's birthday was coming up and what she really wanted was pencils.  That seems appropriate for a 1st grade teacher.  We found some colorful pencils, but tying them in a bundle seemed a little bland for such a creative teacher.  So, we thought of turning those same pencils into birthday candles and our project grew and grew until this cake was on the to-do list. Cait and I built this today and even the brothers wanted in on the project.   I hope all those flames aren't too dangerous for school tomorrow.

Wall Triumph

I know that this barren wall could have been so cute for so long, but my procrastination hindered the whole thing.  Thanks to my sister coming to the US for a visit, I dredged up the motivation to finish the butterfly and complete the set.  She helped me paint the canvases at the beginning of the project and was there to gush at the end. Everything is paper and buttons, well except for the butterfly that my sweet husband cut from some leftover beadboard.  We had to move the bed because there was too much touching and feeling of all the the birds and flowers.  I will shout a big thank you to the Winborg sisters, who have no idea that I am a huge fan.  Their art inspired this project -- although I doubt Modern Family or Target will have this soon.

Government Money and Other Riches

Tis the season of government money.  Since our kids and house gave us a nice tax return, we decided to give something back.  The house gets the biggest cut for the backyard it so dearly wants.  The kids get a piece too.  We let them split $100... that's $33.33 each, and the extra penny is for me.  Noah has been obsessing about the latest Lego sets and set his hopes high.  He was the only child disappointed with the size of the tax payout.  He has really been trying to find other ways to raise the money for the dojo set that he longs for... yet another way that Legos encourage creativity.

Last week, an unexpected turn of events brightened his outlook.  The librarian at school pulled him aside and told him that someone wanted to buy his habitat box for "20 bucks!" (yes, the one from two posts ago--same, same).  Again, we pulled out a parent intervention to help him understand that sometimes people, yes even adults, will say something like that, but they are not really offering money for kids' school projects.  For the next two days, Noah wrestled with whether or not to sell his elephant to the unknown buyer.  He and a friend Em.. started plans for a new business molding elephants and other animals to sell to other adults who might pay $20 for each item.  Em.. has learned to crochet this winter and she started making crochet bags to put the elephants in.  We hoped that reality wouldn't hurt our dreamer too bad.    By Thursday, Noah was back in the library to tell the librarian that he would be willing to sell his creation.  Friday afternoon, Mrs. S caught up with us at the Dads, Doughnuts and Dr. Seuss reading to make sure it was ok with me that Noah was selling her the elephant.  After my consent, she pulled out a $20 bill and went to the library to collect her elephant.  She told me that originally Noah told her that the elephant was $20 and the box for it to live in was another $30.  When she only wanted the elephant because the box was too expensive, he decided to give her a deal and let her have the box for free.  She is adding it to the elephant collection in her home.  Well, reality has a way of living up to Noah's expectations more often than I can believe is possible.  

Pi

Last month, Ben checked out a book of random math trivia from the school library.  He came home one day muttering.  I asked him what he was talking about and he handed me the book.  It was open to a page about pi. "Look, I memorized it, Mom."  OK.  He proceeded to rattle off some 37 digits of pi.  Wow, that's a good memory.  Jeff was even more astonished.

The next day at school, others were not so impressed.  They proceeded to tell him that he was dumb, probably wouldn't finish high school.  Why?  Because Einstein knew pi and he never finished high school.  Really?  We did our parental damage control and Jeff challenged him to memorize 50 digits.  They made a card to fit in his  wallet, so he could practice.  If you're going to make one card, you may as well make 8 and laminate a few to prevent that dog eared look.  In no time at all, several other kids were memorizing pi, writing pi on their dirty minivans and spouting digits to anyone who would listen.  It may just be a fad, but the trend really took off-- I hope the high school graduation rate doesn't suffer.

100 Daze

If December is hands-down the busiest month of the year, I would like to nominate February for a close second place.  It seems we jammed so many "holidays" in that we had a hodge podge of decor and directions. First there was the holiday that mainly parents with a newish mortgage and mulitple children can really celebrate-- Tax Day.   As a change of pace this year, I tried to pace myself and wait a little longer than usual.  Well, I couldn't help myself  and parked on the computer to "just get started and gather the paperwork."  By 12:30am, I was doing my "let's go on a vacation" dance, which is only because it was dark outside and I couldn't see the dreary wasteland that is our backyard.  Oh well, maybe if we start early, we can camp back there this summer.
With the taxes done, I was ready for some old-fashioned parent involvement.  We started with Noah's Animal Report.  He chose the African Elephant.  The teachers have the kids do all the research and writing of the report during class, we only had to build an habitat box displaying his animal.  He made his own elephant from clay and this is the finished project:

Yes, that is the sun setting over the Savannah and the elephant is stripping bark from that Acadia Tree. 

As you can see it was truly a work of art, perfect for adorning the school library.

Next holiday up.... THE 100TH DAY OF SCHOOL.  I think a party is in order.  Each K-2 kid was supposed to make a poster with 100 things.  Our family's favorite was Mrs. Willcocks-- she posted 100 identical pictures of Mr. Brad (her husband).  Caitlyn and I worked feverishly to cut 100 ladybugs for her poster.  Here is her finished product.  I got to go to class for the big party and there were hundreds of things to do.  Luckily for me, I landed a spot at the treat sorting station for a while.

Whew... yes friends, we did all that on a Thursday afternoon.  While I was basking in the Kool-Aid mommyness of it all, there was a very mediocre dinner and a giant headache, but I did sleep very well that night.

You might suspect the usual holidays loomed.  By Friday, we were all on to Valentines and more parties-- and sugar.  We made tons of cookies and treats to add to all the tasty classroom sugar  we were anticipating.  By the time Valentines rolled around, we were sick of cookies-- we'll try again for St. Patrick's Day.

After Valentine's, it was the school science fair.  Suspecting that this was not required by Ben's teacher, his mother encouraged him to participate-- STRONGLY.  He decided to study gum.  Yes, what is better than combining science with something a kid can really love.  We tested different brands of fruity gum to see which flavor lasted the longest.  We chewed and chewed and chewed until our jaws were sore.  Well more me than the kiddies, I am out of shape in that respect.  It was really fun to see the results that we came up with(If you are into fruity gum, go for the Trident Layers-- it lasted a full hour longer than regular Trident and a bunch of other brands).  I had to really hold back from suggesting we do a cost & weight analysis, talk to a food chemist and a bunch of over the top extras-- who knew that moms want to do science too?  I will put a mom science fair on my list (with scout requirements) of things moms would have fun with. There were a lot of amazing projects at the fair and Ben was selected to go to district competition.


District was held at the high school and let's be honest there is something about being at the high school when you are a kids that makes you feel-- BIG.  I really can't believe some of the science -- real science-- that we saw at the fair.  There were calorimetry experiments and genetics-- by the 5th and 6th graders, WOW.   Ben's poster looked good and he must have interviewed well because he was chosen to go the Regional Science fair.  Viva GUM!   We all enjoyed the fair and went to get ice cream with Gma & Gpa afterwards.  It was fun and exhausting--Cait fell asleep on Gma's lap, at the ice cream shop.

There was President's Day , when we talked about airplanes and our cousins going to Chile more than presidents. With no school, our grandma came and played for the afternoon to keep her mind off planes and and airports and such.

Last, but not least was the ramping up for the elementary school favorite.... Dr. Seuss's birthday.  We have read every Dr. Seuss that we own several times and celebrated heartily when we found the lost copy we just paid for at the library.  Should be enough there for a couple months of overdue books.  I love benefiting the community with my forgetful brain.  Happy February!

The Hills Are Alive

After a bookish jaunt on the Alm with Heidi and company this past week, Jeff and I went to Midway to stay at the Swiss themed Zermatt resort.  We had such fun eating pizza on Main Street; surrounded by a few tipsy customers and hilarious waitresses, driving through the misty hills, giggling at the knickers on the valets and watching the rain torrent down outside our room.  If you love all things swiss, this is definitely a great destination.  In the morning, we took a walk/scoot around the grounds and took pictures of the local wildlife--goats.  Two managed to escape their enclosure, I guess the bark on the outside is tastier.  The hills are still so green, I can hardly believe this is Utah in August.  It is no wonder that the Swiss immigrants settled here, its a small scale Alpine beauty.  On one side of the gazebo, we found the haunt of the "daughters of the terrible thing," a mossy bottomed pool, just as in my favorite story of Fearnot(Check out Jim Henson's Storyteller series, a collection of old folklore and fairy stories brought to life-- the library has it).

We had pastries at the bakery and headed off to Park City in search of some navy blue shoes for Caitlyn's skinny feet and some work shirts for Jeff.  I am not sure why we decided to start at the bottom and work our way up, but I sure got a workout.  It's funny, people treat me so much more normal on the scooter than when I use any other implement to get around.  Maybe it is because I look more athletic and svelte.  Ok. Svelte is a stretch, but at least I am at eye level and that's easier for others.  

In probably at least 25 years, I have missed Swiss Days in Midway only 4 times.  Once, missing Swiss Days as a grown adult, my parents called from the park grounds and I teared up just hearing the yodeling in the background.  My parents took us every year as kiddies and when I got older, I chose it every year as what I wanted to do for my birthday.  I still remember getting my first real purse one year and buying a custom-made button pin with my name on it for the purple bolster shaped tote. That was when I was still eating the giant scones.  This year will add to the total of missed festivals.  Death by the craft-crazed doesn't sound all that appealing for some reason.  I will miss it, but Zermatt and Heidi gave me a good fix for the year.   I usually don't buy anything (call it a case of "I could make that"or "they want how much for that?") but I love to walk around, sample a grilled ham and swiss, visit the Relief Society bakery tent, grin at the Swiss Miss royalty, and hear my favorite yodeler, Kerry Christensen.  Really, if you are there this upcoming weekend, pay attention-- you will be stunned at how a human can make those sounds and melodies, with a male voice no less.  So, for my birthday, I will part with tradition, find my yodeler on YouTube and finish the project I vowed to make on my own from last year's festival.

My New Wheels: Forays Made Easy

That's right baby, this hot little number is speedy fast, especially down a carpeted hallway.   Good:  I can steer and scoot, I will work some of those sedentary muscle groups, and mostly I look more like an athlete.  Bad:  Mine does not have a basket, so I wear a backpack from the old days-- then I look a little more like an athlete,  the turning radius just a little too big, so I make many 8 point turns, and mostly my poor atrophy knee cries out at actually being used for something like holding me up.  So, now I think I have achieved the height of ambulatory devices:  wheelchair, scooter, walker (2), and crutches.  It makes it easier to accommodate those whining muscle groups and keep my sore self guessing as to balance and speed.

My first trip on this sweet ride was to Old Navy with the rest of Provo and Orem to get my hands on some $10 jeans.  Both of my boys grew like weeds this summer.  Cait grew, but in her usual "who knew?" way.  I guess we will be sticking to the same 4T jeans as last year. It was nice to have a place to sit in the middle of the frenzy.  I couldn't get close, so my mom and kids just brought their finds to where I was parked safely outside the danger zone.

Trip 2 was to the mall.  This thing is the way to go with a crowd.  In a wheelchair, people often forget to see me because I am only 4ft tall.  With the scooter, I can rise to my full 5'3" stature and be seen.  This was especially useful because we were on a time sensitive mission.  I got an email from Shade Clothing Corporate that they shutting down their business for an undefined duration.  Aggghhh, I am in no shape to shop for clothes (on so many levels).  I knew that there was a denim skirt destined for my closet and I raced to the website to find that it had been slashed from $42.50 to $16.99.  SCORE!!!  I must have said skirt.  However, Shade is always too tight and I didn't know whether to order the size that my jeans say or a size larger like the logical part of my brain opted.  I had to try the sucker on.  The mall is tiled,which means lots of  bumps, requiring focus and nerves of steel to navigate.  Luckily, we used the secret entrance to the mall and were there without many crowds.  Shade stores are small.  Jeff paraded me around like a fancy personal shopper, piling clothes on Benjamin as if he were a footman.  Even though space was tight, Jeff is not timid.  I would point, he would "excuse me" his way in there like a pro.  Maybe all the ladies who left their husbands at the door (yes, there were a few loitering about out there)  were shocked at a man voice in a girl store.  I am sure that a bunch of people waited a long time to get a fitting room while I was busy testing Jeff's selections one-legged.  I finally ended up with and a cute fall shirt (which has been slashed $4.50 since).  I rarely have good luck shopping when I actually have the money to spend, so I was really happy.

Mall Museum, yes small, but yes there is a museum in the mall.  Use the outside entrance between Nordstrom and the mall and the spiral staircase (or elevator) will take you there.  I passed through the metal detector with flying colors, nary a beep.  Hey, wait; is it even on?  I doubt that the scooter is surgical steel, I am thinking lightweight aluminum.  I guess we didn't look dangerous enough to turn those puppies on.

Trip Three:  Church.  What could be a bigger spectacle than crutches?  I knee scooter of course.  All the kids in Primary think that this is the coolest ever, even better than me showing them my x-rays for sharing time.  The older boys wanted to know how fast I could go and if I had tried any hills.  Do I look like Tony Hawk?  NO, I am a sissy mom who was ultra careful before my crazy break, no hills for me. They were disappointed in me, but really I lack the proper training facility.  The cracks in the sidewalks are danger on this scooter and there isn't really a place to get up speed without rocks or cracks.  I laughed at them, silly boys.
Epilogue:  Sunday night, I dreamed about cruising on the knee scooter on the river trail near Bridal Veil Falls, going fast and downhill.  Awake, I wondered "I was wearing a helmet right?"

Sharing, Sharing That's the Thing to Do... Public Foray #6

Last Sunday, I made my first foray back to church.  I hoped that I was ready for the event because church is a major undertaking at 9 am with all your limbs.  I got up early, had a whole-grain cheerios breakfast, shaved my legs -- yes even the broken one that no one would see, got dressed, did my hair and makeup, put on my giant boot and was ready to roll--back into bed.  Wow, what an easy Sunday.  And then it hit, Jeff was in bed, the kids had no idea where their church clothes were and we had only 25 minutes to go.  I will admit that I grumped everyone into action, especially the boys that threw their shirts in the back of the closet after church last week and required me to attempt yet another first, ironing.  Did I mention that I was doing Sharing Time?  We made it 10 minutes late and miraculously there was a bench only three rows up. That NEVER happens.  Nothing like walking in late, except doing it on crutches really is more distracting for everyone.  Lucky for us, they were in the middle of singing.  I was more than a little embarrassed and tears were stinging my eyes.  I dearly hate being a spectacle.  I was in no mood to feel the spirit or do a seated song and dance for the Primary kids.  

Our Sharing Time was themed "Jesus healed the sick,"  and I am just the sick person to teach it.  I had been reading for the past week in the New Testament and found that this time something new stood out.  In Matthew, nearly every chapter from the time that Christ ended his 40-day fast until his arrest--  he was healing someone.  I got a new picture of people streaming in and following everywhere he went to be healed.   Just remembering my scripture study started to chisel away at my negative attitude.   I talked about this with the kids and how doctors didn't know very much and couldn't do very much in Jesus' time.  Which was a nice segue for me to talk about breaking my own leg and how it couldn't heal on its own, so the doctors had to use an idea of using screws and plates.  I showed them my x-rays, bolts and all.  The little kids were speechless for about 10 seconds, then hands shot up all over the room because everyone needed to tell me about how they or someone they knew had broken something.  One little boy told us about how his dad fell off the roof and broke his foot.  Wow, ouch.  Well, no sympathy from the 3-7 set.  I bet when their parents asked what they learned in Primary, they only said that 'Sister Macedone is screwed up."  A lesson to us all, kids get distracted by gore.  

Senior Primary fared better.  I had the good sense to ask if any of them had broken a bone from the get go.  They didn't care for much but seeing the screws and bolts, hmmm-- too many video games? Lesson 2, more sophisticated audiences want more gore?  I had known that this group would need more examples.  We talked about the priesthood power.  I shared a story from General Conference from Russel M. Nelson (May 2003).  I guess I like the anatomy-based teaching too, because I thought it was only a couple years ago.    He talked about a man with a heart problem that couldn't be fixed with any of the surgical techniques available.  The man went to then Dr. Nelson and told him that he had prayed and been led to Elder Nelson as the man who would fix his heart.  He encouraged Elder Nelson to pray to know how it was to be done.  In the very moment, Elder Nelson was directed where to make stitches, folds and cuts to repair the man's leaking valve. Don't worry, I was sure to point out the repaired valve on the heart diagram that I had brought.  The kids were riveted.  A couple kids shared personal experiences of someone being healed.  It was really cool to feel the spirit so strongly and my day could be turned around by the spirit so easily.  I think that is party of being "easily entreated,"  allowing the spirit to drive away your stress and negativity.  All in all, a positive foray.

People of Wal Mart: Public Foray Number Two

I am sure that in one way or another you have witnessed the comedy inherent at Wal Mart.  The tattoos, exposed flab and crazy outfits.  Perhaps you've seen that very large yelling mother with several disheveled children shouting commands from her Wal Mart issued shopping scooter.  That is my personal favorite that came back to haunt me today.  We opted for the least busy of our two non-local Wal Mart stores.  Jeff had called ahead to see if they had a wheelchair that I could use.  Of course they did, the disabled have every right to low low prices!  It was Saturday and crowded,  I regretted not asking for a temporary handicapped parking permit.  Crutches make everything seem far way.  Jeff pulled up to the curb and went to retrieve my wheelchair.  He came out of the store with a big GRIN on his face riding on an electric shopping scooter.  UGGGHHH, I took a quick look at the kids-- a little dishelveled.  Great, I am nearly that mom.  Don't worry, all my pet peeves directed my actions:  I did not run into the back of anyone's ankles,  I did not use the horn (all though Jeff begged), I didn't use any sort of loud voice.  Despite all that precaution people stared like crazy, doubtless some thought about pulling out their cell phone cameras. (It was a slow day for freakiness).  Right between lunchmeat and cheese, I saw another woman with a broken leg riding along like me.  Our eyes met, we checked out the footwear and smiled.  She pulled up and we chatted.  Turns out she fell down the stairs... in the splits.  Her back leg was jacked.  She tore the back of her knee and her ACL, and broke her fibula.  Hey same break, what do you know.  We laughed and wished each other a speedy recovery.   After that people still stared, but I had two happy thoughts: One, I didn't get hurt at home, and as such don't have to look at those bleachers every day and two, my knees both work.  Yea, for bendablity.

Back To School: Public Foray Number one

Oh the fun of seeing all your school friends again, smelling that musty gym smell, shelling out cash for the PTA... school is coming.  Usually, this is the time of year that I begin mourning because I will really miss my kids.  They are helpful.  They are nice.  They are fun.  It has taken half the summer of being together for us to get into the groove of being together and now I am NO fun.  Curses.  So, this year we'll all be glad when the bell rings on the first day.  I braved registration today as my first non-doctor public foray.  I saw all my school friends, you know--the secretaries, aides, teachers, PTA chics, other mom volunteers.  It seemed that those who knew me noticed the Boot right away, while those who were complete strangers felt free to run me over at will.  I thought taking a stroller was a hassle, but a mommy with a walker is a total circus.  Well, thanks to the strangers for not staring, but don't avert your eyes so much that you miss that I am sitting here.  To be fair, sitting in the walker makes me as tall as a 5th grader, so moms who are used to moving through a sea of short bodies that ripple and flow to make way, had no chance against my aluminum walker!  I will say that for next year I have learned a secret tip... the head secretary is placed in the back corner with the copy machine and all registration can be done with her, she just avoids the fray by hanging back a bit.  She even unlocked the hallways so I could actually use the handicap entrance at the front of the school. (The grade is less intimidating than the 45 degree drop down the gym ramp-- you gotta be careful when your feet have wheels).

I passsssed...

Yesterday, I met with my surgeon for a follow up.  Folks, it was NOT pretty.  I did get to see what had been pestering me for the last 4 days and yes, Jeff, I really did have blisters.  Good thing I got to do some Pioneer Day bonding with my fearless forebearers by sharing in some really crazy blisters.  I will not go into detail, but I am sure they are quite unlike the type that a new pair of shoes has given you in the past.  My incision looks "really straight," "great," and "perfect:" according to all the men in the room.  I will excuse those three, but my yellowish green skinny atrophy leg with a giant purplish gash running up the side didn't look anything like those words-- except straight-ish.  Once they opened the cast and laid my vulnerable weakling leg open to the outside world, they said that I could hop back on my crutches and go down the hall for an x-ray.  Excuse me please?  I should back up and say that my crutches skill are about nil thanks to my handy walker.  We had brought the crutches as a more mobile way to get from the front door of the office to the reception desk.... not as a mechanism for further injury.  Don't worry, I didn't embarrass myself at this time.  Next the surgeon looked at the films, maybe to see the perfection of plate and screw placement to appease his guilt over the crazy bruising and the blisters.  He then described my options for footwear for the next 6 weeks.  The boot, light and protective, utilitarian-- the army boot of post-op or the nimble lace up ankle brace which is much lighter weight and consists of breathable (thin) fabric that is laced like a converse all-star without sole or toe.  As an added benefit the lace-up has additional arch support of elastic and velcro.  Ack.  really?  Of course I chose the boot-- not the dr.'s choice, so he threw in three weeks of boot and three weeks brace.  He apparently doesn't get that my three children have little to no idea that there is anything wrong with me, let alone a broken leg of all things.  They are merely convinced that I am lazy and now own a super fun array of carts and stilts that only I get to play with.  The boot screams this extremity is extremely broken, please do NOT invade my new larger personal space bubble.  The ankle brace says, "Hey I am an athlete with a minor injury, but the coach says I'll be in a couple weeks."  The Dr. did not give in...
Next he talked physical therapy.  That was fast-- I still have stitches, you know.  He proceeded to put my right foot in and my right foot out and shake it all about.  By the time he was done doing the range of motion hokey-pokey, I was white as a ghost and going for the full blackout routine.  Backpeddle by the Dr. He brought me some M&Ms for my "blood sugar."  I was too busy with my deep breathing to tell him about the Strawberry Shortcake I had for lunch 30 minutes ago.  After that, I guess all my instruction was over.  I was asking him questions as he backed out of the door.
After all of that I didn't pass out, but didn't feel ready to brave the crutches.  Jeff went to get my meds and appointments worked out while I waited.  We had decided to use a wheelchair to get me safely to the car because I was still a bit wobbly.  Maybe I did have low blood sugar.  One M&M would make everything better it had a peanut for protein right?  One was all I needed to get my body into action.  I called down the hall to Jeff, I was either going to pass out or puke right now.  (Sorry, I had to use the nasty puke word because really the lure of the alliteration was too strong for any self-respecting English major).  Jeff called down to a nurse and she tossed him a garbage can as he ran towards my room where I proceeded to purge myself of both the candy and cake in a most violent fashion.  This was not my most endearing moment-- I could tell from Jeff's face, but I really did feel MUCH better.  I offered to jump on my crutches and make a run for it, but Jeff's nerves had HAD it with my antics-- he got the wheelchair.

A couple miles down the road he asking if that was embarrassing.  Um, nope.  Hopefully they forget me over the next 6 weeks.  I'll be sure to tip off the physical therapist to my special tricks.  Maybe I will develop some stamina in training so my next visit will restricted to dry humor and inconspicuous grimaces.

Yep, It's Broke.

State Tourney Part two. There were no trophies for Ben, but I received a load of custom stainless steel that I can always carry with me as a reminder of how fun baseball 2010 was. I now have a plate running along the outside of my fibula with 5 screws to put my leg together again. Apparently the twisting move I made to save Caitlyn from fracture ended up exploding the pieces of my bone hither and thither. What's to be done, cadaver paste to the rescue. The surgeon strategically squirted it into the empty spaces so my own bone has something to grab onto while healing for the next 7 weeks. Yes, as an added bonus I added more hardware and two weeks onto my recovery time. In addition to all the exterior ligaments on the inside of my leg I tore the ligaments that actually hold my tibia and fibula together. End result 3-4 inch bolt through the bottom of both bones to help the interior ligaments stitch back together. Even in the old Anatomy and Phys. days, I never fully appreciated the precarious interactions that enable walking....

So, thanks to my mom's generous set of new cotton sheets, I am rediscovering sleep, reading, suduko, crosswords, sleep, crochet, reading picture books, playing monopoly and phase ten all from the comfort of my bed. Good thing we upgraded to a new mattress in February ... I can feel the good karma coming around.

Thanks to both of my grandmothers for their walkers that have saved my dignity a few times and my sanity daily.

So if any of you have any great new sedentary hobbies or skills I should take up, just let me know.

Is it broken?

Ben's baseball team made it to the state tournament, which means more ball fields. They started yesterday bright and early and I packed snacks, drinks and a million thing for Noah and Caitlyn to do, so I could watch the game. When we pulled up it turns out that all adults have to pay to get into the ball park. It was only 2 dollars, but really paying to watch your own kid still rubs the wrong way. While the boys warmed up, Noah and Caitlyn started climbing the bleachers until Caitlyn cried because she was up too high and was scared to come down. Yes, those bleachers were super high and steep. I climbed to the rescue and started carrying her down. With only 3 or 4 rows left to descend, I slipped or something and fell off the side of the benches to the pavement with Caitlyn in my arms. Apparently I did some sort of tricky stunt double maneuver so that Cait didn't get hurt, but I did.

I looked down to see that my ankle was really out of whack. Like bones bulging in places they shouldn't. And that was just the right side, the left ankle was swollen to the size of a tennis ball. Great, two broken ankles.-- I guess I am a girl who will be able to finish her summer booklist. One the baseball moms drove me, Noah and Caitlyn to the emergency room, where Jeff met us. I ended up with only a major sprain on the left ankle, a broken right fibia, and torn ligments in the right ankle. Prognosis: another first-- surgery and at least 6 weeks in a cast.

Dead or Alive....

Well the blog, as Debi pointed out, is DOA and since I am no good at Facebook, I guess I can commit to this. As you all are busy, you can understand my excuses, but that doesn't mean that you will accept them. We have been embroiled in marriages, deaths and projects for sure, but I hope to do better and document what we have to show for our negligence.

Bear Lake, UT

The first annual family reunion was held last week. Even our grandma, who hasn't camped in over 25 years went. All of Jeff's siblings attended except two and that is still a lot of people. We snuck around the 1-15 construction zone and opted for a route that included a heavily guarded Evanston... can't let those illegal aerial fireworks into Utah. The result was only 2 1/2 hours instead of 3-4 hours. We set up our great new tent and our kids danced inside for joy.

Some highlights included:

• Laying on the ground at midnight finding satellites with our kids.
• Dutch oven desserts. Apple crisp with a full jar of caramel? Who thought of that?
• The perfectly laid campfire (by Jeff)
• The teenage girls who went to sleep instead of talking until 3am. They even sang the Princess Pat with me-- talk about letting your cool hair down.
• The Snipe Hunt hosted by my cool nephew Ethan. Caitlyn was scared of snipes the rest of the trip and my boys were seriously questioning the travel brochure and map because the history of Bear Lake was not right-- the way that Ethan told it.... Ha.
• Green Fire courtesy of our resident Chemist
• Showers that gave Jeff the 2x Boost in energy
• Bloomington Lake, the hike, the lake, the glacier, the granite and mostly the rope swing and my crazy soaked husband who whooped and hollered like a crazy person after finally giving in to his need to risk life and limb--- well comfort for sure.
• Minnetonka Caves. Stalagmites. stalagtites and bats. Yes, two tiny bats and 888 stairs. I am totally counting that as a workout. They look excited, no? Well, they don't know that the bats are tiny yet.
• La Beau's Shakes even though I opted not to have raspberry. I know its a travesty in Bear Lake, but Cait and I mangaged to muscle through our PB Cup Shake anyway.
• Bear Lake. I have never seen such blues mingled together. Gorgeous.

Of course there were a few lowlights:

• Cooking sloppy joes from scratch --12 batches instead of just using Manwich like my wise SIL suggested. It did taste better, but really everything tastes good camping. Despite swearing that I could NOT eat the stuff after smelling it for two days, I ate one anyway. Maybe the smoke cleared my senses.
• COLD... the nights, mornings, and the lake. Lucky for us our kids froze before we did, so we didn't look like party poopers.
• COLD yes, more of it, shivering in the night in my sleeping bag that is rated down to 20 degrees F. I found myself sometime in the night wondering if there was some secret instruction manual I should have read.
• Bathrooms-- backed up and overflowing... I imagine that was the quickest septic tank fix in the history of the park.
• Our cave tour guide.....dud.

Christmas 2009

Sleeping in until 8:00am on Christmas Morning? Yes, that's right, not a creature was stirring, not even a 4-year-old until the morning was waxed old. It's funny that every morning for two weeks the kids have been rising between 5:50 and 6:30 and on the most exciting day of the year, they forgot. This year we have what qualifies for us as a giant Christmas tree. We have been using a 5.5 ft. decorator tree that you might see in a small grouping. Our new tree is taller, wider and brighter, but I admit I love that little tree. I am not sentimental about a whole lot, but there are some good memories of that spindly tree that always made it seem homey and Christmasy in our apartments. We set up our big tree in the family room and basked in all 1500 lights. The kids would rather have had colored lights, so I bought some for the old apartment tree and we set it up in our small living room (the piano room without the piano). The kids decorated the whole thing with all their favorite ornaments and all their projects concocted this year in school. When we were all admiring the decor, Ben looked at the tree and said that it seemed bigger before and then wondered if we were poor back then. Yeah, we were pretty poor.... but really what is wrong with the tree? I love that little thing, it will take a long time for me to give it up.

When the kids woke up, they ran to the big tree and found that Santa had not come. They were all worried. Finally we remembered the small tree. Santa was so used to putting the presents there that he put them there again. It was fun to start out with a laugh. Everyone got something to love, my favorite was my new cookbook.... watch out kiddies mommy's going to get experimental with dinner.

We visited Jeff's family and jumped every time the phone rang, wondering if his little brother had gotten engaged yet. That guy... this is three years in a row of waiting for him to call on Christmas. We really enjoyed seeing our cousins and talking to Jeff's parents.

In Christmases past, we spent the day driving from one grandma to the next and then on to the greats, but this year was a lot quieter. What kid doesn't just want to stay home and play with their new toys? Ours really appreciated the down time. My parents came for dinner and were in no rush to go home. We enjoyed them so much. Grandpa was a great sport to play marbles, build legos and engage in dart tag with the kids.

GrammySitting

Last week marked my first turn "grammysitting." My sweet grammy is suffering from Parkinson's and her three amazing kids and husband consented to letting the grand-daughters in on the action of helping care for her. My first round seemed more like the old social visits, just a little slower and quieter. Some would rather not have to see the decline of someone they love, but having loved and lost my paternal grandmother less than six months ago, I feel different. I am relishing all the time I can have with my grammy because it might not be long before she doesn't want me to read to her or rub her hands or try to make her laugh with all my antics, all of which I can still do for her. On top of all that bonding, I got to sit with my grandfather after she went to bed and hear firsthand the stories I love about him. I love that he still loves grammy and remembers her strength even when she is weak. I don't know if I could conquer her brand of adversity with so much grace, but I appreciate the legacy already.

My WillPower is Shattering

After much resistance, I finally crumbled and gave in. Not to the lure of all the Halloween candy, but something more additive-- facebook. It really took the idea of Debi moving to Sao Paulo with only 45 minutes of cell phone time. I mean really, I am so long-winded, she could only afford to leave a message on our voicemail. So facebook it is. I hope J doesn't think I love him any less because I wouldn't make the switch for his sake, but really there is something weird about he and I chatting online across the room.... I am sure that there is some sort of therapy for that-- so I would rather skip it.

I am sure that I will enjoy seeing every documentable thought, idea and moment that my friends will come up with, but I guess for now I prefer the soapbox mentality of this forum.

IV--pics coming soon

Installment Four... now you know why people lined up to buy the latest chapter of a Dickens novel, the suspense was killing them!

And on with the vacation.

Day Three: San Diego Zoo

What to say about the zoo... First there is the deal. Bramwells all have season tickets and therefore free entrance passes to go with it. We paid for Caitlyn to get in and a little more for the premium rides and that is it. I guess the Bramwells must really like us. Second, there is the buckets, arial buckets because the SD Zoo is soooo big that little legs need a little easier way to get there. Third, thei,elephants of many varieties in different enclosures. We spent at least an hour on elephants alone. Jeff's curiosity paid off because we got the full private discussion of elephant foot therapy from a couple zoo keepers that were starting an elephantine pedicure process. Just one minute later the whole zoo seemed to get the vibe that zookeepers were interacting with us and that they were invited. Lucky for us, just as the throng mobbed the area we were safely snacking in the distance.

From there we went to polar bears, who were nestled in their private den, but we lingered to take advantage of the shade. By the time we made it to the hippos I was tired. No one else seemed to be dragging, so I kept hiking up one flight of stairs after another until finally I wished I could settle in for a nap like the gorillas. While we watched them sleep, it occurred to me that the dramamine was still mellowing me out from the day before. This my friends is why I will deeply consider being sick instead of lathargic next time. It took nearly an entire frozen lemonade to perk up my energy... I see now why it is a great idea to have a season pass to this zoo--no kid, not even Bindy, the jungle girl, could really see the whole thing in one day-- unless you made use of the bus tours. Our kids saw all their priority animals and we went home for a nap and a swim.

Day Four

All our three generations of Bramwells live in a suburb of SD. We spent the morning exploring their hometown, visiting their childhood neighborhoods, seeing the tree Kyle hit with the Jeep, and casing the scene of their Prom pictures. Their town has a lot of great history and a great old train that goes around the park. We rode the train, which Jordan and the other kids loved. I guess a slow old train is more their speed. By this day, it was REALLY hot! Apparently we towed a heat wave in town with us.

Day Five

Sunday... ahhh. I will admit, I worried about Primary for a minute, but I got to bounce Baby Bramwell all through Relief Society and I enjoyed every second of it! We got to meet some of Kyle and Juli's friends and their bishop. Our vacation was seeming to wind down with just one more day of fun and then a long drive. Little did we know that the Bramwells had other plans. Dick and Jennifer played our kids against us and held an unianimous vote that we should stay a few extra days. We gave in... because we weren't ready to leave yet either. (That is where you gasp and wonder how many installments this can possibly take).

That night we paid a visit to Juli's parents. They were very gracious. Traditionally, they would send a cheesecake to Kyle and Juli for their birthdays from the Cheesecake Factory. Since they both worked during the day, my apartment number was always on the delivery. I usually held said cheesecake ransom until such time as they decided to share it with us. While we were in California, we decided to return the favor and brought a cheesecake to celebrate Jeff's birthday with them. They were awesome. They had gotten us a Julian apple pie to take home (a big must do in SD area) and some authentic Slovac kolache (pastry with nuts rolled inside). That was really generous. We got to see Juli's mom's art studio and some of her paintings. Noah was totally unnerved by the skull she uses to get faces right, but Benjamin ate it all up. Jeff was mesmorized by Juli's dad. He is a physicist and an amateur astronomer, so you can imagine the awesome conversation that they had in the backyard amongst various giant binoculars and telescopes. One by one the rest of us managed to wander off until Jeff and Joe were the only ones outside discussing the heavens. Around 10:30, we persuaded them that the kids should be in bed and that our next trip Jeff could bring a sleeping bag and camp out in the yard.

Summer Vacation Three

Day Two... Jeff's Birthday

After a whirlwind day at Legoland, who could ask for anything more. We joked about a new family car. This was about all we could afford...

Then again a Volvo made entirely of Legos might not be a whole lot less than the real thing.

If you didn't notice so far, our trip has a theme color: Orange. While we couldn't wear orange

every day, the kids all had orange hats so we could easily keep track of them.

Back to the birthday, when we got home, the Bramwell's garage was decorated with toilet paper, a sure sign of love, with a trail leading into the house. This is the first thing we saw.

Yes, Kyle completely mummified in TP. Jennifer & Juli had decorated with giant candies, balloons, and a decadent chocolate cake. We had a great day... Happy Birthday Jeff!