touching base

Have I been checking blogs this summer? Not very frequently. So I have low expectations of anyone checking mine. But if you are here, please say "hi" to me! Here are some pictures of our crazy times.

The summer began with a mother-son trip to Lincoln City with great friends. We were fortunate enough to enjoy historically low tides, as you will see.

(low tide)

Boys will be boys, and boys will build fires.

Next trip? Fort Stevens.

Camping...well, yurting.

Mike and Berkeley start out for part one of their summer adventure:The rest of us were the support crew, picking them up in Tillamook
later in the day.
Next adventure? Family reunion!

WOW! The gang's all here at the 2009 reunion.
All my siblings, their kids, even a great-grandchild, and another on the way!

New, ultra-safe platform for the zipline. Takes some of the fun out of it, because now you don't have to perch precariously on a tree branch. Ha ha ha. But on the upside, the little kids can board it without help. (Or is that a downside?) Yes, that's Mike's ultra-white belly.

Esther's frog.

Sam's snake.

...they all fall down.
Cousins worked hard making flower clips between trips to the pond.

(POST-REUNION)
Emily, the Independence-day birthday girl, with Maia, her cheerleader for the day

Berkeley on stilts and Sam on his unicycle for the annual 4th of July parade
(down a quiet culdesac)
While cousin Gideon and Maia ride the easy way.

Above you see some of Mike's fancy camera work. He and Berkeley are riding the entire Oregon coast this summer; after two installments, they are about half done.

We also had a lovely visit from Mike's parents and a trip to see his side of the family in Washington. But I guess we were burnt out on picture-taking.

This week? Nothing, thank goodness!

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!