Removing BBQ sauce in the laundry room

If I could go back in time, I would tell the previous owners of our house to set down the paintbrush and back slowly away.

Some people shouldn't be allowed to pick colors.

Seriously.

It took me awhile to name the color that formerly graced our laundry room.  I finally decided:  Barbecue Sauce.

Someone saw this:

And decided the laundry room would look great in that shade.  (Unfortunately other parts of the basement were painted using the same bottle of sauce.)

Here's the laundry room, before:

I have some hand painted Italian tiles that my friend Apryl gave me when we lived in Connecticut.

I'm unaccountably attached to them so I was going to paint the room yellow to accommodate them.  Then I toyed with the idea of blue.

Then I remembered I had leftover paint from Adam's office.  I liked that color and it had the advantage of already being in my garage.  Here's the after picture:

I hung up the word laundry in case any of my children get lost and wonder about the purpose of the room.  I hung it up in a haphazard fashion because that is the only way I know how to live my life.

The colors only marginally work; it's sort of an unexpected combination but I'm OK with that.  In fact, I like it.

From now on, we'll keep the BBQ sauce on the pulled pork, where it belongs.

MTA

1) Emma wanted to get a job.

2) I didn't want her to get a job before she had her license or access to a car.  Also, she had lots of online classes to take to make up for changing schools and all the electives she insists on.

3) She wanted to get a job anyway.

4) She and Braeden decided she could work where he does.

5) So she got the job.

6) She hated it.

7) Seriously. Hated. It.

8) That part of Braeden that loves to talk to people and adores the challenge of winning them over?  Emma doesn't have that part.

9) Emma wanted to quit.

10) She was done.

11) Adam and I thought she should stick it out.

12) After a few weeks her sticking it out seemed a little ridiculous because it was never my idea in the first place that she get a job.  She was completely miserable.  Besides, she needed to work on her online courses.

13) Perhaps the clincher was when my grandma confided she wouldn't like that job either.  (It was the same day my grandma told me over lunch that her milkshake was healthier than my Diet Coke.  She was probably right.)

14) We told Emma she could quit but she needed to give 2 weeks notice.

15) Her boss told her she didn't need to give notice.  She could be finished.  That made her REALLY happy.

16) Emma asked me if I could teach her some skills she would need to be a mother someday.  (I think she was trying to get on my good side.)

17) It worked.  I felt flattered and excited by the idea.

18) The MTA was born.  Mother Training Academy.

19) So far she has made dinner a few times, ironed a shirt of Braeden's (she thought it was an incredibly arduous task), she helped me prep the laundry room for painting and I showed her how to use the washing machine.

20) It occurs to me that I should have taught her all of this stuff already but there's no time like the present.

21) Also, I am enjoying spending time with my girl.

Whether he likes it or not

The other night, Adam told me that he thinks Father's Day is a silly tradition.  "It's just a tacked on holiday that is meaningless."  He said, "Dads don't need it."

I argued that it is good for their children.  It's good for them to stop and appreciate all their dads do.  I don't think it's silly and certainly not meaningless.  I said, "It's important for children.  Father's Day isn't always about you, Adam."

He said OK.

This whole conversation really sums up Adam though.  He deflects attention.  He doesn't particularly like getting gifts.  He really truly is an easy keeper.  He's the last one to dish up his plate at the table and if there's ever a line, he'll let all of us go before him.  He'll quickly change his plans to accommodate anyone.  He's the one our kids text late at night when they're out because they know I've gone to bed.  He works hard every day and freely gives everything he earns to his family.  He expects very little in return.  He wants kids who are kind and good and who consider all sides of arguments and he wants to spend time with them.

Besides that, he's fine.  He doesn't need to be acknowledged.

To which I say, too bad.  We're going to acknowledge him.

Adam is the stricter parent but he is also more fun.  He is smart (so smart) and wise and funny and reliable and unselfish and generous and everything that makes for a good dad and a good husband.

He is also fun to shop with.

 
I found this picture from awhile ago.  I think it was the first time we went to Fake Meyer (which is Smith's Marketplace here, we've named it Fake Meyer because it reminds us of Fred Meyer where we used to shop in Washington.)

Yesterday morning we got going early to make a pancake breakfast for Adam.  First I took this picture:

Then I told them to smile nicely.

Then I gave up.

The boys looked liked the America's Test Kitchen guy in their bow ties and aprons.



At church the primary kids sang to the dads and it was the first time in 15 years we have not had a kid up there singing.  Another first, they had all the men, 18 years and older stand up at the end and they gave them cookies.  Braeden was quite pleased with himself.

After church and lunch and short naps, Adam was put in charge of the activity.  He said he'd like to go for a drive but he didn't think the rest of us would be that interested.  (I'm historically not very interested in taking a drive because 1) where are we going? and 2) how will we know when we got there if we don't have a destination?  I'm truly a lot of fun.)

I told Adam that he needed to stop worrying about what anyone else wanted to do because it was Father's Day.  He said it was hard to go against his nature.

It's good for him every once in awhile though.

We drove to Cascade Springs in American Fork Canyon.  It was beautiful.

The air was warm and the water was cold and it reminded me of the hill behind my Grandma and Grandpa Dahl's house.

These two talked the entire time about a trip they're planning to Disneyland when Emma is 21 and Mark is 17.  Plan away children.  Write the plans in pencil...

Braeden was thoughtful and quiet and companionable.  I like that guy. (I have a pained expression in this picture but I wasn't in pain.  I'm just not photogenic.)

We drove over the mountain and went home through Midway and then back through Provo Canyon.

It was a lovely day.  I'm glad that Adam succumbed to us honoring him.  He's worth it.

Good things

Last night Adam surprised us with a trip to the movie.  We saw the new Pixar movie, Inside Out.  We loved it!  I can't sing its praises enough.  For one thing, the character moved to a new state.  We could relate.

All of us except Mark, who is still young enough to not be infected with our leaky eyes, cried.  There was a big burly man with a beard and multiple piercings on the other side of Braeden.  Braeden reported that guy cried too. 

It was that sort of movie.

After it, Emma asked Braeden, "Is my make-up smeared all over my face?"

He said, "Is my life smeared all over my face?"

That Pixar.  How can they make an animated movie that hits us all so close to home?

We hit Sonic for half price milkshakes on the way home.

This summer is turning out to be just about perfect. 

When we got home, Stephanie was here and we chatted on the deck for awhile and watched the moon set across the valley and speculated which planets we were seeing in the night sky.  Nights like that are about as lovely as my eyes can hold.

In other good news, Emma has broken the curse and passed her driver's test on the first try.  There are a lot of factors at play here:

I may get in trouble for this but 1/3 of my siblings are good drivers and the rest are not (I won't say which 2/6 but it's Enoch and Ammon if you must know).  Maybe Emma is the 1/3 of my children that is a good driver?

Maybe it's because she took the driver's test in Utah?  Just drive on the freeway here or the PGHS parking lot and you realize it must be really easy to get a driver's license.

Maybe she truly is a good driver?  She can parallel park.  I didn't even know that was a thing. Can people really parallel park? (Well, Adam can...)

So maybe that's it.  Maybe she gets it from Adam.

In any case, every mother dreams of having a daughter better than she is.

Nailed it.

Adept with an allen wrench

First, I should note that a complaint was registered when Braeden read my last blog post.  For one thing, he is pretty much convinced he should be my favorite.  For another thing, he thought he had to clean up more of Mark's toddler messes than I did.

Yeah, that probably is(n't) true, Braeden.

Since Mark had more room in his bedroom, we stopped at IKEA for a new chair.  Adam and I bought a similar one several months ago.

Mark had an easier time assembling it than we did.  Give that kid instructions and parts and tools and he goes to town.

He spins an allen wrench like it's his job.

We may never get him out of his new chair.

I told him I am not getting him a mini fridge, otherwise he'll never leave his room.

Did I tell you?  Mark is finally, completely a reader.  It was a lot slower in coming for him than his siblings.   He has lots of other pulls on his time...there's the Legos, the money making schemes, Minecraft, the trampoline.  It makes me happy when I find him reading though.

In other Mark related news, Emma refuses to believe it, but he is passing her up in height.  I'll be next.

I won't say he's my favorite, but...

Every summer there is the dreaded ritual of deep cleaning the children's bedrooms.  I need to poke and prod and cajole and it takes time and patience and big garbage sacks.

But now, Mark.

When we moved here, I turned them loose on their own bedrooms.  I certainly had bigger fish to fry (like an entire house to organize).  Mark has his bedroom which ebbs and flows in organization and he has his toy room in the basement which is basically a shrine to Lego bricks.  He's tried several times to bring some order to the room because like his school desk, he uses it and wants it tidy and usable.  He came to me with the quandary that he needed more storage in there.  And then I realized that he really had no storage and I should have addressed the problem a long time ago.

But that's what summer is for.

Mark is enthusiastic about the undertaking.  Unlike his recalcitrant siblings, he wants to get it done.  Instead of me having to poke and prod and cajole, he feels like I am doing him a huge favor by helping him with the project.  He has thanked me profusely a few times.

While Braeden and Emma would have argued long ago that it was good enough and who cares anymore, Mark is careful and purposeful.  He contemplates how best to utilize the space and storage.  He went through a box and created a pile of things he wanted to get rid of.  Without me asking him to!

All the toddler messes that boy ever made are forgiven.  Throwing away stuff of his own accord!  Mark for president!

I hardly know what to do with myself.

We still have a ways to go but here is the behemoth that was in Mark's bedroom. (It looks deceptively small in the picture.  It is about as tall as I am.)  Adam and Braeden made short work of two flights of stairs.  Turns out marrying a strong husband pays dividends when you have strong sons.  Win win.  (Except for the feeding them part.)

the white box on top is chock full of toy guns, swords, light sabers, and wands...we're pretty much ready for anything

This table is for the in progress and completed creations he isn't ready to disassemble yet.  There are always plenty of those:

Not shown is the tremendous pile of stuff outside the room that we still need to sort through, contemplate and ultimately (hopefully) get rid of.  It's a good start.  I'm hoping Mark will help me clean Braeden's and Emma's rooms.  (Maybe while they're at work...)

Good old summertime

I don't have a lot to say this morning but I am too afraid of incurring the wrath of Desi if I don't blog.  (She got rather disgusted with me when I was at camp and not blogging.  Then she found out I was at camp and all was forgiven.  Then she gave me a hot tip on where to shop for a dress so I still and always have thought Desi is awesome-sauce.)

Anyway.

We've embraced summer full tilt around here.  The fridge is full of fresh fruit, we had corn on the cob last night, and Braeden smells like chlorine and sunscreen.

He got a job teaching swim lessons in the morning to supplement his insurance job. 

Another really happy summer thing is that Stephanie is here.  Her daughter is at basketball camp at BYU.  We have shopped a little (hence the need for a hot tip from Desi of where to buy a dress ).  Last night we sat on the deck and watched the sunset and then the lightening (and then I went inside because I am afraid of lightening.)  We played cards. We have chatted.  We took a walk this morning and then fruit smoothies on the deck. 

It's nice.  It's relaxing.  It's summer.