Lessons from Wall-E

Have you seen Wall-E yet? While we were cruising, my parents came and stayed with our kids. My mom said she felt like the robot in Wall-E--the vacuum who followed Wall-E around because his directive was to clean up dirt.

This was funny to me, not just because the kids do seem to leave a little trail of messes in their wake, but also because I kept thinking of Wall-E while we were away. I felt like we were the overweight, hover-crafting cruisers, whose "directive" for the bulk of the movie was INDULGE. We ate and napped, ate and napped. No dishes, no laundry, no cleaning. As wonderful as it was, I really wouldn't want life to go on like that, because I would become less of a thinking/moving person. And over time, there would be a loss of bone density...just kidding.

But seriously, as for the current controversy about whether Wall-E is liberal propaganda, I want to hear what everyone thinks. One commentator called it a 90 minute lecture, an animated Inconvenient Truth. To me it was SO entertaining I didn't think to take offense. I only chuckled at the irony of paying $42 for my admittedly large family (at matinée pricing) to learn that mindless entertainment and indulgence is dangerous, with DisneyPixar as our teacher... hmmm.

Maybe if it makes us uncomfortable, it's because we are deep-down uneasy about our ultra-lux lifestyle. Maybe we know we are too attached to the pleasure-seeker-within. Or maybe we simply don't want our cartoons to preach to us (unless it's veggietales?). At any rate, I can't believe that DisneyPixar has any agenda other than one: selling stuff. This time around, I happened to like the stuff. How about you all? Offended, entertained, validated? What did you get out of Wall-E?

the final frontier

Settle down, trekies, I'm talking about ALASKA. We just got back.

We took a cruise with Mike's parents, brothers, and their wives up the inside passage, to Juneau, Skagway, and Ketchikan. It's funny, it took me a couple of days to wind down and settle into the trip, after all the stress and exhaustion of getting ready to go. And the anxiety over leaving my kids for so long. I couldn't just enjoy--I had to unwind my nerves first.

It was beautiful and amazing and a special bonding time for everyone. What a rare experience to have the adults together for so long--we got to know each other in a different way. We laughed and played games most nights. We had an amazing private sacrament/testimony meeting that lasted 2 hours. Everyone cried and shared their love for each other and the Savior. Mike's family is full of amazing people.

Travel synopsis: At Juneau Mike and I kayaked in a peaceful inlet with a glacier view. We saw lots of jumping salmon and a half dozen bald eagles. At Skagway Mike went mountain biking alone, while I toured the town and found a cybercafe from which to email the kids and my parents. I bought souvenirs and walked a lot. The weather was better than we expected. We hardly saw any rain. It was gorgeous like the northwest, but surrounded by snowy mountains. We had a day at sea in Glacier Bay, where we saw lots of humpback whales, and we saw ice "calving" from the glacier. It sounded like an explosion each time ice would break away then crash into the water. Then we sailed to Ketchikan, where we went on a zip-line/rock-climbing adventure. That was the highlight for me. All 10 of us adults did it together. Grandpa and Grandma were good sports. Then we all went to a lumberjack show. Every night we had dinner together, and we informally met up at other meals as well. It was the perfect ratio of couple time/alone time/large group time. And fabulous food and weather. Overall, a great trip.

So now I'm home and SO glad to bask in my kids' bubbly presence (except Berk, who is not bubbly AND not here--I can't wait to see him after scout camp). Big thanks to my parents, who helped make this possible!

Camp Alpine Reunion 2008

Sam, walking the tight rope.

Me!

Sam.

Maia and Mike.

Syd, under the waterfall.

Siblings.

Berkeley.

Boy cousins at the archery range.

Girl cousins on the bridge.

Maia just can't wait to get her swimsuit on.

Just a quick post-in-pictures to give a taste of the best reunion ever. I can't go to this place without fantasizing about building a home right in the middle of the meadow and living there. (Operative word: fantasizing.) Happy 70th birthday, mom! Thanks for building the zip-line, Mike. Thanks for teaching the kids soldering and the finer points of electronics, Ken. Thanks for buying all the food and for the geocache and hiking trips, Dad. Thanks for bringing the fun relatives from France, Sheryl, and for planning the fabulous menu. And thanks to all for the wacky talent show. I love my family!

Waiting for the crash....Oh, there it is

Can I tell you about our weekend? Late nights, non-stop fun, non-stop junk food. And the kids kept going strong...until today. But let me back up.

Mike took Friday off and we drove up to the Great Wolf Lodge in Grand Mound, WA. So here is my official review. Skip this paragraph if you don't care about the Great Wolf Lodge. There was a line at check-in. The decor was rustic and whimsical. You can buy a $25 wand that lets you do a series of interactive "quests" all around the premises, which was almost as fun and engaging as the waterpark. They let you start swimming at 1pm the day you check in, and until 10pm the day you check out. The waterpark was crowded but thoroughly enjoyable. There is a wave pool, a playstructure with waterslides. Two tube-slides. A slide that makes you feel as though you are being flushed down a giant toilet. A kiddie pool, hot tub, and a larger pool with toys and basketball hoops and a lily-pad crossing. Did I mention it was crowded? The lines for the big slides lasted 5 to 15 minutes. The restaurants looked overpriced, but we relied solely on what we brought. The rooms had minifridges and microwaves. So we were all set with ravioli, bagels, and sandwiches. After check-out we did eat one meal in the parking lot, which may seem undignified but was truly just fine. The room was fun--with a "log cabin" for the kids. The wrist bands were handy, acting as a room key and credit card, so you could wander around wrapped in a towel and have everything you need. We would go again...just not too often.

So when we walked in I realized right off that I forgot my camera. And my gut feeling was relief. "Oh, I can just enjoy this and not worry about getting good pictures of everything. No scrapbook pages to do, maybe no blog post." We stayed up super late having fun, then were up and ready in time to enter the pool right at 9:00 when it opened. Then Saturday night we went to John's house (Mike's brother) and stayed up even later. I thought the kids would crash for sure, but their cool teenage cousins revived them (and kept them up). We drove home Sunday and everyone stayed awake in the car and was ready and chipper for our 1-4:00 pm church. I thought they would crash early Sunday evening. But no, everyone played happily. This is the girls after church. Totally wired.


But then everyone had trouble getting to sleep, and needed drinks and comfort until well after 10:30. We got up this morning and went to the library and zoo. And finally...there are some tears this afternoon, some whining, and I'm debating whether to turn on the tv. Not because I'm opposed to tv, but because I think it will make them all fall asleep. Which might not be that bad, actually.

Amazing dads

My kids have an amazing dad. All of my nieces and nephews have amazing dads. All my kids' friends have amazing dads. Mike and I have amazing dads.

In a world where dads are becoming an increasingly precious and rare commodity, I feel blessed to know so many amazing dads. Keep it up, dads!

Aye, Where's the rub? (Costco, part 2)

I don't know how many of my faithful readers were converted to Thai Rub (from a previous Costco post). It's a delicious barbecue spread from the deli section. Not a dry spice rub, but an oily, peppery paste. SO good on Bridget's favorite salmon burgers. But it's GONE!!! If anyone knows where to find it, let me know!

But almost making up for that sad loss is "Franz whole grain white bread" with no fewer than SIX grams of fiber per slice. Can't beat that. My SIL Velvet told me you shouldn't eat bread with less than 5 grams of fiber per slice, which is hard to find. Unless you buy the bird-seed bread, which doesn't go over well with everyone. My kids were so excited to see white bread in our kitchen--I was the hero of the day!

Any good Costco finds? Please share!

my birthday month

I woke up this morning with the sad realization that my birthday month has come to an end. As usual, I celebrated more than necessary the passing of another year of life, brendacentric-style.

I try to control my birthday, because I am a control freak and I don't react well to surprises. I'm sure hours of therapy could unravel that mystery, but anyway, my most embarrassing moment was screaming at my kids to get in the car and then opening the door to find (to my horror) several of my friends singing "happy birthday." They delivered a sumptuous breakfast and a birthday balloon. I doubt any of them love me anymore, but it was nice, and yummy.

I requested a slip-n-slide party, which Sarah delivered, along with strawberry shortcake. And here I am in a swimsuit. You're not going to see that every day, especially not on my blog. And here with Breezy, Heidi, and Sarah.

So then we left for Utah, and arrived, in time to tour temple square on my actual birthDAY. Cool, eh? A big highlight was this lemon poppyseed cake, (a recipe will appear on a future post). It was a cake-doctor kind of thing Velvet scouted out. So I have to give a major shout-out to my sister-in-law, Velvet, who patiently listened as my brother Carl outlined my ideal menu, and kindly agreed to take care of it all. And THEN found out that it was my birthday. I would have been like, "Your sister wants what? Who is she, the queen of Sheba?" But Velvet is just nice like that. Coming to town? I'll bake you a cake. Whatever kind you like. Nice. I could do a whole post and more on how cool Velvet is.

A funny side-note about cousin-bonding (it doesn't all have to be about my birthday month, right?) Maia, Sydney and Grace, Laura and Kate decided to have a sleep-over the first night. They were way too keyed up for that. Kate (18 months, in a big-girl bed) understandably thought it was a "party-in-their-room" and had no intention of sleeping. As I went down to bed, there was still a ruckus going on, and I saw Maia surreptitiously open the door, place bewildered Kate outside, and shut the door. Of course I put Kate back in, took Maia out, and that was the end of that.

Then the next morning Angela, who thank goodness didn't know it was my birthday, made this fabulous praline-topped french toast casserole. (Am I focusing on food? Is that a problem?) Angela and Mark are our marriage twins--we got married on the same day--and the BFFs of our pre-kid/first-baby stage, before they moved away to pursue advanced degrees. (I have to be clear about who left whom. Sniff.) We hadn't seen each other in many years and honestly, we all look GREAT. Better than ever, even. We aren't quite the hippy, musician, artist, poet, idealist, commune-dwellers that we used to be (Mike and I never lived in a commune, but we hung out at Mark and Angela's), but we are still cool in our hearts. Just busy and loving the regular things in life. Like our kids. It was good for my soul to see them. And to see Angela's post about our visit. Stop by and see what a talented writer she is.

And then there was the night at Aunt Gail's in Pleasant Grove. Sitting in her dining room that used to be my grandpa's library, I felt transported as my mind visited so many fancy family dinners in that same spot when it was my grandparent's house. My happy place. I used to love Grandma Norma's homemade rolls (which mysteriously had no recipe) and homemade raspberry jam...but I realized those were not the necessary things. We sat at the same table and ate PIZZA (sorry, grandma) and I was just as happy. Almost to tears. If I could just have Oregon AND the people in that room I'd be in heaven. And the people in Oregon. Hmmm...too much to ask for, I know. Gail broke out s'more stuff and we had a fire on the equally familiar back porch. This is me feeling joy. Blissed out by the fire.

Here is everyone at Carl's. Carl is in the center, standing over Velvet, Grace and Laura (oh shoot, where is Kate?). Grant and Ruth are on the far right, next to Aunt Gail, holding their little Hazel. Grant, to me, is still the kid who used to be Mike's play-mate and co-conspirator when we lived in Utah. They rode their bikes the length of the Oregon trail with my brother Ken. They got lost and suffered hypothermia in Wyoming, in August. They built dirt jumps and sustained injuries goofing off. A broken bone, even. They designed and built ski bikes and dreamt of starting a company together. They got lost and stranded half a night on Mt. Hood, resulting in frost bite for Grant. And it wasn't all adventures--it was a lot of late night pizzas and conversations and laughing at "deep thoughts." And now Grant is all grown up and heading for his PhD in Texas. Not to mention married with child(ren).

It's almost hard to go back because things change so much you never can go back. But these new memories are hard to beat too. For example, here is Mike's butt on our last day.

I know, it's super cute, isn't it?
The way he's playing with the kids, I mean. With childlike abandon.

Ken and Neil

Two posts in one day? I just had to throw in the picture of my big brothers together after Neil's 50K. He was first in his age class again this year, and I learned that if you go cheer him on, he shares his loot. I got a beautiful MacForest 50K mug. I feel guilty I didn't earn it the hard way, but that ain't gonna happen in this lifetime.

Great job, Neil! And thanks for letting me hang out with you, Ken. Great picnic, good times. Oh, literally seconds after crossing the finish line, Neil pauses to look at a cricket caught by our cute niece.

Mother's Day

What a great day. I spent the morning at my mom and dad's. My dad pampered us with a deluxe breakfast. I drove home and found that Mike and boys had made MAJOR progress around the yard and house. (We're prepping for siding and patio people to come in and give our house a face-lift.) Even did a load of laundry. Hurray. Then the kids piled me up with homemade cards. Tender thoughts from Berkeley: "Sorry I'm a grumpy teenager. Just ignore everything I say for the next 5 years." Sydney must have made a card a day for the last week and had them all carefully stashed and ready to present today. The kids sang in sacrament meeting, then I went home with sick Sam. I got a long nap and a long walk, and Mike's specialty barbecued chicken dinner. I'm so grateful to be a mom to these fun children. The greatest gift I have been noting lately is the way my girls love each other. They play happily and peacefully (for the most part) and just really adore each other.

I'm trying to remember that feeling gratitude for all the little shining moments can erase anger and anxiety. I focus too much on all the things I want to be doing...all the great programs, plans, and parenting techniques I mean to implement. When there are truly so many great things we already are doing. And the kids are thriving. Focusing on the shining moments clears away the hazy film of stress and despair. Thanks, Angela, for your post on shining moments. She refers to where M. Russell Ballard says:

What can you do, as a young mother, to reduce the pressure and enjoy your family more?

First, recognize that the joy of motherhood comes in moments. There will be hard times and frustrating times. But amid the challenges, there are shining moments of joy and satisfaction.

Author Anna Quindlen reminds us not to rush past the fleeting moments. She said: “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”(Loud and Clear [2004], 10–11).

I'll end on that note. Happy Mother's Day!

~30 of my favorite times with you, Carl

Watching you laugh when you were a toddler. Being the only one in the family who understood your language. Watching you demolish the newspaper until you were covered in newsprint.

Sheryl and I dressing you up as "Carla." Beads, clip-on earrings, dress, make-up. Why did you never resist us?

Having you call home when you were at Olympics of the Mind, and having your team sing "Happy Birthday" to me.

The summer you were 13. Taking you to high rock (...sorry about the naked people). Getting you to jump first off the unfamiliar cliff (sheesh...sorry about that, too. glad you're not paralyzed).

Same summer. Taking you to the fish ladder and shouting back and forth in the tunnel to be sure you hadn't drowned. Getting mad at mom because she wanted you home by a certain time. (What's wrong with hanging out all night with college kids???)

Playing ping-pong and pool at the Institute.

Churnin' butter.

Pulling into a McDonald's on a road trip, bleary-eyed and hungry. You were a teenager. You walked up to the counter and the McDonald's worker just stared at you. You waited for awhile, then asked "shouldn't you be taking charge of this conversation?"

Mountain biking with you and Mike in Brandis Woods. Cleaning mud off the bikes after.

You grabbing the squeegee from me at the gas station, because I was doing it all wrong. Being genuinely impressed by your window-washing skills.

Taking you to the M.T.C. (almost as good as picking you up 2 years later).

Talking about books. And libraries. And books about libraries. Talking about religion, history, philosophy, alchemy...developing ESP...(insert Twilight Zone music).

Maintaining stoic faces on the roller coasters at Disneyland, while everyone around us screamed.

Seeing my very first nutria, ugly as sin, on the way home from the Cure concert in Paul's vintage Jag. Thank goodness we didn't hit the thing.

Speaking of Paul, the time you two came to Provo fueled by that suspicious homemade root-beer. (Somehow Mike and I ended up stuck with a broken-down Jag.) Having you sleep on our couch for weeks at a time. Lounging all day, really. Then magically awakening to go for a run around midnight each night.

Sharing, more-or-less, the same taste in music.

Meeting Velvet at the Chinese buffet.

Seeing you baptize Velvet.

Seeing you marry Velvet...and watching Berkeley-the-ring-bearer do the potty dance throughout the ceremony. Seeing you dance with Mom at the wedding.

Seeing you and Velvet sealed a few months later.

Buying computers from you and torturing you with expectations of life-long technical support.
Getting life-long technical support.

Asking you questions and having you answer in a humble fashion, embarrassed that you know more than me, about just about everything. Watching you love your little girls.

Playing Settlers with Carl-and-Velvet rules.

Going to Washington D.C. last year. Talking to you on the airplane.

Seeing you plagued like Job. Shingles? Who gets Shingles? The same guy who is struck by appendicitis and pneumonia. Maybe that's not really a favorite, but how about when you Googled shingles, just so you could know the full spectrum of symptoms you could fake? Happy 30th, little bro.

Count Your Blessings

Last night Mike had the brilliant idea that we should make a long list of our blessings, as a family. Would you believe we got to 152? (before it started getting just plain silly)

Sydney's contributions included such things as "clean water" and "trees that give us oxygen."
Amen, sister! Berkeley is thankful for such things as all the systems of the body, listed individually of course, and books. Maia is thankful for her family and her buddy Hannah. Sam is thankful for prayer, his body, his bike and his ripstick.

Among other things, I am thankful for our church leader, President Dalton, for helping us think about what we are thankful for. We had such a wonderful stake conference on Sunday. The main theme being that it is hard to be angry or discouraged when we look at the many blessings that grace our lives. Even our trials are sent to strengthen and refine us. Life is good. God is great.

Feliz Cumpleanos, that's how they say it in Spain

Happy, Happy Birthday, Berkeley Dear. Oh, sorry... Burquellii dear. Happy days will come to you all year. If I had one wish then it would be, a happy, happy birthday to you from me.

I love this kid. This teenage kid. Who will get a drivers permit a short 2 years from now. And then date girls a year later. Then graduate and move away. Forever. (Insert "cats and the cradle" chorus.)

Okay, back to me. Do you all ever feel like you don't even look at your kids properly? Like they are an extension of yourself and not their own person? But then there are these moments when they are so original or interesting or deep and you realize, this is a person, and I am privileged to know him, let alone parent him.

It's great knowing you, Berk. (And I hope you don't take the whole "extension" thing the wrong way, you know, like a whiny teenager might do.)

"It's a Brendacentric Universe"

Once when I was at the doctor's office, the nurse mentioned her teenage son. I responded with genuine amazement: "no way are you old enough to have a teenager." Long pause. "I had him when I was fifteen." Long pause. "Soooo.....you're NOT old enough to have a teenager." Nervous laughter.

So on Saturday I am going to become the mother of a teenager. A teenager I had when I was 23. I have contemplated, just for fun, telling people I had him when I was fifteen. Because I really enjoy nervous laughter (when it's not my own).

------------------------------
When we were in college, Mike and my roommates coined the popular phrase "It's a Brendacentric universe." I'm sure they meant it in the best possible way--being the devoted fans they were and are. Of me. Brenda. Center of the universe. The type of mom who will post about herself instead of writing a tribute to this amazing kid turning thirteen on Saturday...

More to come...

Tulip Fest

Sydney wrote in her journal today about the Tulip Farm:
"I went to the tulip farm. It was fun. I liked the cow ride. I loved it."
So perhaps I should leave it at that.
And refrain from editorializing on the crazy long drive, the heat, the cost of carnival rides, the lines (even for the portapotty), the exhaustion, and the sunburn.
It was fun. I loved it.

I've lost that bloggin' feelin'

I feel I should apologize, even though, really, who cares? I just haven't blogged in awhile, okay? I have my reasons.

But if I had blogged, I would have told you all about my feelings on the stupidity of the celebration of GREEN, in other words, St. Patrick's Day. Can I get a shout out from anyone who is annoyed by the superfluity and frivolity, and who is offended by the very existence of products related to St. Patrick's Day? Let's hear it. And how amusing that it should fall so close to Easter, so that there is a veritable collision between the shamrocks and the bunnies in all the seasonal aisles of stores. (See, aren't you glad I didn't blog about it? I'm March 17th's answer to the Grinch.) Then I would have gone on Charlie Brown style, a mere 6 days later to blog about my grief over the commercialization of Easter, and then my grief over my OWN spiral to hell in a pastel colored handbasket. Because at the end of the day, who can resist the fluffy bunny ears? Not me. I'm such a hypocrite.

But a few notable things have happened, that got me back on the bloggin' train. The peeps torture was a highlight of the Easter aftermath. Thanks, Bridget. I feel now that Sam's airsoft gun has fulfilled the measure of it's creation. (Hmm, still don't know how to add a link. Somebody come show me.) Bridget has pictures.

Sam broke his thumb on this cursed rip-stick, then jumped back on it the next day to try some "sweet new tricks."

Sydney graduated to Sam's bike and Maia almost learned to ride Syd's bike. Can you hear the chanting? "go Maia, go Maia, go Maia." I love the team effort.

I've been forgetting my camera everywhere we go. Silver Creek Falls (with my sib's Sheryl's and Neil's family, and of course mom and dad in their RV) was beautiful--amazingly rain-free. But cold. Then a night in Corvallis with the folks. Got to see my other brother Ken, who is thankfully recovering from a crazy-long bout of vertigo. Also got to see a highschool BFF I haven't seen in 15ish years. (Thanks for not lurking, Dale, despite your disdain for blogs.) Then on to Lincoln City where we experienced all manner of weather: hail, rain, hail, incandescent sunshine, hail, WIND, hail. Did I mention hail? Sam stood outside the window pretending to be a newscaster who gets swept away during the newscast. That got so many laughs that he did it about 87 more times.

And we're home, doing laundry and repacking, so we can get up early and brave the snowstorms between here and Bend. Hmmm..."winter snow watch." Maybe we'll stay home.

Happy Almost-40th!!!

Just kidding. Mike is 38 today and he is being such a great sport. He was going through a slump earlier in the week, so I planned a fun trip to make him feel young again. We stayed at McMennamin's Edgefield last night, caught some live music, ate great desserts, got up early and cross country skied the Teacup Lake 6 mile loop. The reason I call him such a great sport is that I'm the one who loves funky hotels, live music, great desserts and cross country skiing. It didn't even dawn on me until today that I planned my ideal getaway, instead of his. So what's his ideal getaway? He just wants to do anything I want to do. That's why I love him. (Side story: the other day I asked him which celebrity he would most like to meet. His quick response was, "If you were with me, Alan Alda, because I know how much you like him. If I were alone...nobody comes to mind.") He even happily left the live music as soon as I declared it "too country" (sorry Darilee) and shared his creme brulee when I liked it more than my bread pudding. And when I realized I forgot to pack my snowpants, he insisted I wear his. Wow. What a champ.

The girls have been sorely vexed all week because we didn't know what to get Mike for his birthday. Maia helpfully suggested "How about a new truck? Me and all my imaginary friends think a new truck would be good." She asked him outright what he wants and he said he just wanted some time with his family. Maia was concerned "but we can't wrap that, Daddy." Of course the kids knew my get-away plans, so Sydney gently let me know later that Mike meant he wants time with everybody, not just me. Needless to say, we hurried home from skiing so we could do some family things, including dinner at Chevy's and some fabulous treats at home, compliments of some dear friends. Thank you Heidi, for remembering Mike's favorite pie (and caring enough to make it!). And Nathan, for the fancy drink. When Sam saw the bottle (and verified that it was non-alcoholic) he said "I just feel like this is going to be a great day."

Happy Birthday, Mike!!!
Love ya!

Happy Birthday, Dear Sammy, Happy Birthday to You!

9 years ago I held my little Samuel Grant and swore nobody would ever call him "Sammy."
Oh, well. It's been a great nine years, kid. You bring excitement into every day. I never know what you're going to think of next. Great job putting your new bike together--I'm sorry I even suggested you might want to wait for daddy to get home. And yes, the pegs are sweet.

Here is my favorite gift-find. Sammy's been collecting state quarters, thanks to Grandma Andrus, so I found this super cool collector's folder/map at Amazon. $8. (Okay, so I guess I still don't know how to add a link.) It's full of details about each state. The kids gathered round and enjoyed it together, except Maia who wasn't fully awake.

my brother can run farther than your brother

Okay, I stole that title from Berkeley's "my uncle can run farther than your uncle" post. But my brother, Neil Olsen, yes, THE Neil Olsen, won the Hagg Lake 50 K on Saturday (and set a course record), so I just have to brag, even though I personally can't run more than a few miles. 50 kilometers is like... a LOT, more than a marathon, about 30 miles? And he kept a 7:20 pace, on muddy trails. Crazy. Here he is, presumably about to pass this joker in yellow. Or maybe yellow man is doing the 25 K. Anyway, Neil is in white.

Stay tuned for his first 100 mile race, the Western States 100, in June. For pete's sake, Neil, start a blog! http://roguevalleyrunners.blogspot.com/2008/02/hagg-lake-50-kilometer-trail-race.html

A cautionary tale

You all know me to be an IKEA evangelist--I love the whole concept and culture. Flat boxes, do-it-yourself. Storage. Small spaces. I also love to mix my pepsi with lingnon berry juice, and I love a cup of meatballs. Well, today IKEA finally let me down.

I went this morning expressly for the purpose of buying ONE thing, a rope ladder for Sam. It's his birthday tomorrow, and he needs a way to get up to his newly-elevated bed (hmm, I should photograph it, but he's sleeping). This would have been his ideal gift. He would have thrown his arms around me--at least that's how I imagined it. Anyway, it's a bit of a drive to go to IKEA for just one thing, especially since I know I have to go back to get the shelves to complete our new garage unit, which were "temporarily out of stock," but were supposed to come in a few days. Alas, the rope ladder was "temporarily oversold." (Is there a distinction between out of stock and oversold? I feel they are blaming us, the consumer, in the latter. Or maybe the checker, who shouldn't have been doing the overselling. I haven't figured it out.)

There is a moral to this story: Online stock check. I called Mike in dismay. He got on the website and said, "yep, they're out of rope ladders" (thanks, Mike) "and incidentally, the shelves are in."

The day wasn't a total waste: the girls had a blast, as usual, trying out all the chairs and beds. Sydney said out loud, but to herself, "this place is a dream," and I said "I've always wanted to live in a dream" (See Corduroy). And the highlight was a Merilyn (or is it Darilee?) sighting. I just love those hip chicas. Hope they had better luck today. And hope they blog about it.

Will you be my valentine? And you, and you, and you, and you?

A few years ago I realized Valentine's day is for kids. They get into it so much more than I do, so why not give in and make it totally about them? So we have a tradition of making a fancy, romantic dinner all afternoon, getting dressed up and "surprising" dad when he gets home from work. And after that, chocolate fondue is pretty much required, with donuts, strawberries, bananas, mandarin oranges, pineapple, and marshmallows. And we all get a little "sauced," and end up laughing our heads off. Then Mike helps clean up and goes off to his meetings. Very romantic. I put the kids down and watch TV, then read a book, then doze off. Everybody is happy.

So how did you celebrate Valentine's day? And I won't even be sad or jealous if you did some magical couple thing with your Valentine. (Just don't give too many details.) I'm so at peace with having 5 Valentines.