how to make an ice cream cake, by Sydney

First, bake a cake in 2 nine inch round pans.
Pop them out of the pans (you greased them well, right?)
Eat one. Freeze the other, loosely wrapped in wax paper.

Put cake on your desired cake plate and
tuck scraps of wax paper under the edges.
Put it back in the freezer.

Line a cake pan with saran wrap and fill with softened ice cream.
It takes almost a whole box of icecream to fill the pan.
Press it down to fill in the edges. Freeze until hard.

Pop the molded icecream out using the saran wrap edges.
Press it on top of the cake. Put it back in the freezer.

Scoop vanilla (or chocolate) ice cream into a bowl. (Less than a quart)

Stir until it is smooth. Add food coloring if desired.

Hurry! Frost quickly.

Quick, it's melting! Put it back in the freezer.
Put some of the "frosting" back in the freezer too, for touch ups.

Make some nachos to kill time.Remove wax paper. Decorate (with actual frosting)!
Quickly.
You may need to refreeze it during this process
to keep the icing from sliding off the cake.
Keep frozen.

Put on one of dad's outfits and see how many kids can fit in with you.

Let cake sit out 5 minutes before serving.

Pile on dad!

HAPPy FaTHER'S dAY!

P.S. what did you do for your daddy?

phase of life

As this year of preschool comes to a close I can't believe how little I've accomplished on my to-do list for the year. I wanted to go through all the closets, the attic, the office, and get organized. I also wanted to get scrapbooks up to date. Now I have one more week, and nothing much to show for the year behind me. I did make long-overdue baby books for Sam and Syd, and my bedroom closet is pretty well sorted. My problem is that I have a hard time buckling down and doing loose, open-ended projects. I also have yet to get used to hanging around a quiet, empty house. I'm better at going to the gym, grocery shopping, and volunteering in the school. Bite-sized, on-the-go tasks.

I've been in a bit of an identity crisis. It's hard to explain. We heard that our elementary school might go to all-day kindergarten next year (Maia's first year at school!) and I felt thrown for a loop. It would mean I would have to face my future a year earlier than I thought--to figure out what I should be doing with that time. Believe me, I am not really disillusioned with a mirage of tons of free time. I know I'll still need to accomplish all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and grocery shopping--and I'm barely keeping up as it is. I'll just be doing all those things without my little Maia running circles around me, like a cyclone. It will be a bitter-sweet change.

The crisis is in the feeling that maybe I should be doing something more. I always thought I would have a plan in place before I got to this phase of life. A passion that had been waiting in the wings, finally able to have a turn. Songs to write and record, a PhD program to start, art classes to take, community college classes to teach. Something. But I haven't felt strongly about anything. I feel uninspired. I know I have talents I could cultivate, but why don't I feel a strong sense of direction?

Maybe I just need time to get my bearings. Anyone out there have a plan for this particular transition? Or been through it and survived, self-actualized and enriched?

happy birthday to me

I'm notorious for stretching my birthday out as long as possible. But just when I thought it was really over (two days after the fact, in fact), I came home to find my lawn covered with balloons, staked into the ground with lollipops. Thanks to all my loving friends and family for making me feel loved!

What a weekend. First, dinner with my parents. Then they babysat while Berkeley treated Mike and me to the next, next generation of Star Trek. Which I recommend with all my heart. Intelligent twists. Romance. Humor. This movie really delivers.


Then off to my sister's house in Bend. She knows me very well: tacos, banana cream pie, strawberry pie, a late night trip to Cold Stone to harass my niece at work.


Here we are, hiking in a lava tube, deep under the earth.

And an amazing new adventure. I feel bad blogging about it, because Sheryl should blog about her new toys herself. So I won't say much. But I'll just throw in a picture of myself, still hip and happenin' at 37:

Thanks, everyone! For the t-shirts, the earrings, the cookies, the balloons, the hanging basket, the saltwater taffy, the phone calls, the book, the pies, the cards, the kindness!

I really do feel loved. (By the way, this is your thank you card.)

good for nothin'

Did you ever take any pass/fail courses in college? There was a required Health class at BYU you could test out of on a pass/fail basis. I remember I was too cheap to buy the text book, so I went to the bookstore and sat there for quite awhile reading through it, then I headed straight to the test center to take the test. When I passed I remember wondering how much of a margin I had, in other words, how much time had I wasted learning things I didn't need to know. The concept of learning for the sake of learning was so far beyond my scope of understanding as an undergrad. Which is why I took any short cut I could ethically take to still get good grades. And which is why instead of attending free lectures and the international cinema, I was more often playing guitar or watching the Simpsons.

***

Maia and Sydney have been a distraction at cub scout pack meetings lately. Let's just say they are overly exuberant in their role as spectators. On our way to last night's pack meeting I told them IF and when refreshments were announced, they were both to look at me, and I would either nod my head yes, meaning they had been good and could each take ONE of whatever was offered, or I would shake my head no, meaning their behavior had been unacceptable. They both solemnly agreed. Sydney sweetly promised, "we'll just take ONE, ... IF they even have treats." Long pause and Maia asks Syd, "but what if we're good for nothing?"

Don't worry, they were good. They each got their cookie. But I am wondering, when will they be good for nothing?

tiny dancers

I know there is an unwritten rule that you are not supposed to compare your children (maybe it's even written--I should read more parenting books). But still I marvel at how different they can be, and yet how harmoniously they get along. My girls, for example, play off of each others' traits, and each shines in her own way. I just hope each feels fabulous about who she is.

Be patient with me. I adore these little dancers so I had to put some pictures and video up. Maia and Syd are in different classes but they have a lot of the same songs/costumes. Grandma and Grandpa will appreciate how well Sydney smiles and keeps up in the dances, because they got to see the sleepy version at dress rehearsal, when Syd was in a benadryl-induced stupor. She often comes across as shy and tentative, so I wasn't sure myself if she would get into dancing. It's so good for her! It makes her put herself out there. Maia, on the other hand...well, she's Maia. She bounced and skipped through the lullaby song.









First video, Syd is more or less in the center, pink skirt. Next video, she is in the green bandanna and green sash. Bottom video, Maia is the one racing around during the lullaby, "Baby Mine."

the kind of kid

Berkeley is the kind of kid who doesn't really like me blogging about him. To that, I will argue that this is not just his birthday, it is my fourteen year anniversary of being a mom. So if I need to mark it in some outward public way, he's just going to have to cope.

Besides, Berkeley is the kind of kid who understands his mom, and is quick to forgive.

Berkeley is the kind of kid who also makes his mom stop and think. Like this weekend. I dropped him off at the church to go to camporee. I asked him if he had payed his $10 to his leader yet, thinking maybe Mike took care of this. Berkeley said no, but he had his own money on him for that. Oh, your own money, okay. Well let me give you ten dollars anyway, because there is going to be rock climbing and other things that you might want money for. Again, he said no, he had extra money for that. I tried to give it to him, to physically force it on him, and he batted me away. He said "if I only have my own money, I'll be less likely to spend it." This is where I stop and think, you see, because for me that sentence is an enigma wrapped in a riddle.

Berkeley is the kind of kid who believes in self-sufficiency deep in his core. He is the kind of kid who can't stand the thought of frivolous spending. He is also the kind of kid who wants to grow up and avoid any kind of pampering. Not that he's in a rush to grow up.

Berkeley is the kind of big kid who knows how to play like a little kid. He is a loyal friend and loves having his buddies around him. Here are some shots from his "party." At this age, we're finding, a party is food and friends. Nothing more is required. No loot bags, no pin-the-whatever-on-the-whatever. Just music, laughter, and spontaneous games involving pelting each other with grapes, or chanting around the fire.






Berkeley is the kind of kid I count myself blessed to know. Thanks for making me stop and think. Happy Birthday, kiddo.

Trimming the Hedges

Yeah, the arch is cool. But look at Sam's hair. One month ago.
At the peak of its glory.

This was two days ago when I decided maybe Sam would benefit from a clearer field of vision. (The kids are working on their trio version of "Yankee Doodle," which for some reason, involves a lot of elbowing.)

Why did I do it? I worry I may have robbed him of some of his super powers. I grabbed the scissors, just wanting him to be able to see again. I fully intended to keep the shaggy vibe going, but I couldn't stop myself. I didn't know how to stop. And now he's just a regular boy. Sorry, Sammy.

Moab rocks.

Bear with me. Here are a zillion spring break pictures.

First we got in the car and drove. It looked very much like this, hour after hour:

We got to see my lovely aunt Gail. (Am I really taller than you, Gail?)

We went to a bouncy fun place two days in a row. The cousins had a blast.

Two of my favorite men, two peas in a pod. My brother Carl and Berkeley.

Yeah, we curled Sam's hair. He was pretty stoked.

Then we headed south, to the most surreal landscape in America.
I think the commentary can just drop off here, since the pictures say it all.

Happy Spring!

where the sidewalk ends

I am not a runner. I like to walk and know the sidewalks of my neighborhood and adjacent neighborhoods inside and out. I also like to go to the gym, and feel familiar with the sidewalk from the parking lot to the front doors. I love the familiar rubber of the treadmill, the stair machine, and the elliptical trainer. They are a great substitute for pavement. I also love the TV monitors and my Ipod. They are a great substitute for nature and fresh air.

This morning I got ready to go to the gym, pulled out into the street, and felt that strange deflated thud of a flat tire as I drove the first few yards. I knew the tire was low the day before--so just a slow leak. I got it reinflated, thanks to the mobile AAA guy, and headed to the tire store for what I hoped would be a quick repair. Maybe the duration of one complimentary bag of popcorn. Instead I was faced with a 5 hour wait. One hour until Maia gets home, still in my gym clothes, I set out for a very long walk culminating with a very long hill. Sounded good to me, because I was going to miss the gym after all, and I had my Ipod and waterbottle.

The crazy thing I didn't count on, which I'm sure the runners of this town are well aware of, is that there are no consistent sidewalks. I had to zig zag back and forth over this crazy busy street to try to keep up with the disjointed sidewalks. No shoulder, just ditches and people's junky yards to walk in. And I wondered, what is the point of a sidewalk that just ends? Seriously.

who needs it?

The magical world of television. So much allure in a little gray box. Many times this week I subconsciously thought of flipping it on, only to remember the pledge. I realized, among other things, that I use television to unwind, to reward myself for accomplishing something, to motivate myself to sit down and accomplish something (like folding laundry or sit-ups), or simply to have human voices as background noise. Oh, and I use it as a babysitter. It's the opiate of the masses. I did not miss the act of shopping during pledge week, but I missed the television. I missed watching it and I missed the kids watching it. More than the kids did, even. The kids actually genuinely enjoyed playing with toys, doing crafts, cooking with mom, and playing games. Go figure.

The weekend came, and with it my brother Ken and his super-fun girls. Who needs t.v. when you have a model of a genuine old-school steam logging mill to play with? Thanks, uncle Ken! And who needs t.v. when you have cousins? I don't think anyone missed it.


We did cave and let them play the Wii, though, only while the adults were off at other things Saturday morning. Ken and Grandpa went to a logging model conference, (documented in Ken's latest post).

Grandma, Berkeley, Mike and I went to the district competition for Oregon's Battle of the Books. This was so cool. Berkeley's team played three very strong battles before being eliminated. They were 3rd, (based on points earned) going into the final rounds. It was gratifying to see how much they enjoyed themselves. After working so hard to study all those books, they were laughing and cracking jokes with each other and seemed just happy to be there.

Go team!
Thanks, to those of you who followed pledge week. Mike's take on it has been very positive--and I want to clarify that this is not something he ever asked for. But every day he has thanked me. He believes in doing hard things just because they are hard, and he has a point. Any kind of sacrifice brings a sort of clarity to our lives. Thanks, Mike, for the inspiration.

day four. yes, of pledge week.

Pledge week (no spending, no TV, no video games) is getting a tad bit trickier. Like today we had this cute boy over we've never babysat before. Maia and I were both worried about what we would do with him. There is no ice-breaker like TV, right? Well, instead they got out a game and we played it (or some Maia-inspired version of it) all morning. It consisted of Maia and Andrew taking turns running across the room to show me a "whoonu" card; I read it to them, they discussed whether it was something they both liked, and then put it in one of 4 piles: Maia likes, Andrew likes, they both like, or "the grandma pile." The grandma pile held such things as "knitting," "journal writing," and "poodles." Maia's held such things as "dancing" and "glitter." They apparently share an interest in "political figures," "fishing" and "hot tubs." They got to know each other, that's for sure. After going through the whole entire box.

Now they are playing with a dusty old box of lincoln logs with friend #3. Not bad little architects. Not a bad day.

Back to the psychoanalysis. Bridget says we stay busy to avoid falling into the stay-at-home mom trap. I'm with her 100% on that. I think we all work very hard to avoid becoming frumpy, under-stimulated, and dull. Plus, we all feel genuinely better when we are contributing to the family and community. So it's valid to want to avoid "the trap." But it still hits me that there are many other traps to navigate around. Overeating, overspending, overcomitting, vanity, insecurity...despair. It seems like we should have the ability to stand still and face ourselves--and like what we see. Not just physically. But to really be content, and not want any of the trappings to complete us.

Oh, which reminds me. I spent money yesterday. Driving the kids to dance class I realized I was out of gas. Drove to the gas station. Realized in the nick of time that I didn't have any money. Pretty funny, eh? I made it home, dug out the debit card, and went back for gas. I thought about brining my jar of change instead--I haven't counted out coinage to buy gas in many years and thought it would kind of funny. But then I thought about how the men at the gas station have always been so nice to me... When Mike walked in the door Maia was quick to tell on me, as if I had really done something wrong. That gave us all a good laugh. Another good laugh was when I ran out of eggs this morning. Oh wait, that wasn't funny at all. I guess I'm going to use my $4 to buy eggs.

day three of pledge week

On the "no credit cards," I decided to not buy anything unnecessary at all. Which, as it turns out, means nothing so far. Three days. And I know a lot of people are laughing at me thinking, three days without going to a store? Who goes to a store more often than that? ... I do. I rarely keep a shopping list, so I pretty much go whenever I need something.

Moreover, I go whenever I have the time. So if there is ever an extra 30 minutes, or an hour, I can run to get groceries. Accomplishing this little task makes me feel that much more productive. And I'm always running low on something, or have some new idea about what to fix for dinner, or what to bring to a party, etc. So I keep on running to the store...but what am I running from, Dr. Phil would want to know? What emotional need is filled by staying busy? Do I need to feel ultra-productive to feel validated?

And here is the "ah-ha" moment: I have a compulsive need to pack my schedule as full as possible. And it's really not about shopping. I am not an out-of-control spender by any means; I don't carry a negative balance on my credit cards, but I do carry a negative balance on my sanity, so to speak. And I am drawn to certain time-fillers to a degree disproportionate to their need to be done. Sometimes I just like to be "out," doing something.

So I think I need to transfer that emotional need to other tasks that are more fulfilling, like writing music, scrapbooking, and blogging. And maybe some tasks that actually need to be done, like painting my trim, getting acquainted with my shaggy yard, and cleaning out closets. I don't want to feel like I spend my days running in circles.

Hmm...20 minutes was not enough time to fully figure this out, but I have to pick up the kids from school. More tomorrow.

day two of pledge week

If you're just tuning in and don't know about pledge week, read all about it.

I'm not really feeling the pain tonight. There's nothing on t.v. on tuesdays anyway. I had a busy day of teaching art lit; the kids played with friends and had piano lessons. Tonight, the girls and I did watercolor and read Anne of Green Gables. Mike and the boys had scouts. The kids went to bed. Then Mike and I ate pie (thanks, Heidi) and played a high scoring game of scrabble--314 to 307. Yes, Mike won. Mike always wins.



This pledge week is starting to feel like the snow days--an excuse to slow down.

Also, I'm having a little breakthrough about my emotional connection with shopping...(my emotional connection with t.v. is a little more obvious) but I'm not sure I can articulate it yet. Stay tuned. Okay, one hint: it's not what you might think.

day one of pledge week

The kids and I struck on the perfect birthday gift idea for Mike. And if you could have seen his eyes light up when he opened the bag full of t.v. and wii remotes and my debit and credit cards, you would know we were spot on.

Here is the card that came with the gift:

On the "no credit cards," I'm quite seriously going to try not to purchase a single thing. I only have about $4 of cash, and limited memory of how to write a check. And Mike has my cards. So that's the goal. No purchases whatsoever.

And of course, this is the week Maia has no preschool, so it would have been fun to take her to McDonald's and even just to Costco, and it would sure be easy to let her watch t.v.! But we're going to interact instead. Like people did in the olden days.

I'll keep you posted on how this little experiment goes. After all, I won't have anything else to do! Ha ha ha ha! Happy birthday, Mike! Here's to quality time!