Unless you're related to me...

Unless you call Braeden grandson, nephew or cousin, you may want to skip this post.

(You may want to skip it anyway.)

This is the post where I indulge in pictures from Seussical.  Bear with me while I get it out of my system.  I sort of can't help myself.

These are from the opening scene:

two very talented girls

The Wickershams:

torturing poor Horton the elephant

I want a dress like the Bird Girls'.

swooning over Mayzie

the one in green is my favorite

I loved the Circus McGurkus scene:

The circus train:

notice the sign...they're in Snohomish!

One of Adam's favorite characters was General Genghis Khan Schmitz.  He scared children out of their wits.

These kids are so funny...

I couldn't get enough of the Cat in the Hat and Thing 1 and Thing 2:

Or Gertrude:

And I loved the Whos:

Mark's favorite part was the cameo played by his T Rex:

I watched the play six times.


I could watch it six more.

OK.  I'll stop now.


All photos courtesy of Sam Freeman at Northwest Theater Events.  What?  Did you think I suddenly got some camera skills?

May I suggest

Maybe I'm the last one to know, but recently I discovered Bar Keepers Friend cleanser.  I had heard about it and seen it recommended in magazines enough that I decided to give it a try.  I didn't think it would be much different than my old standby, Comet.

I love this stuff though!  I am not a bar keeper but I am a house keeper and my housekeeping can use all the friends it can get.  It made my kitchen sink SO clean.  (Sometimes it feels a little pathetic, the things that thrill me.  Other times, it seems quite reasonable.  A clean, really clean sink! Fabulous!)

I also love it for my glass cooktop on my stove.  It works better than the other cleaner I have for that, the one whose sole purpose in life is supposed to be to clean my cooktop.

Here's a caution:  if you have an enthusiastic nine-year old who is generous and liberal in his use of cleaning products, you may want to ban them from this product, as I have done.  Mark cleaned my tub with it and he used A LOT.  I don't think the Mississippi delta has that much silt.  After I finally got the tub all rinsed, I gave Mark some spray cleaner and told him to lay off the Bar Keepers Friend.

It is no friend of his.

Desi, don't go!

Marianne told me that her daughter, Deseret, said, "I am going to stop reading Thelma's blog.  It's too depressing."

No, she wasn't talking about my blurry pictures or grammatical errors or narcissism.  She was comparing her school to Braeden's school.

I don't want Desi to stop reading my blog because 1) frankly, I need all the readers I can get (see blurry pictures, grammatical errors and narcissism) and 2) I love Deseret and don't want her to feel sad because of me.

Desi goes to the same school I went to, the same school her mother went to, the same school her grandparents went to.  (And I think our combined efforts have compensated for the trouble my dad caused when he was there.)

It's a good place.

They don't have a large drama department, complete with a costume room, make up room and workshop for set design.  They never will. 

That's the thing with comparisons.  You can compare yourself to someone else all day and night and nothing good will come of it except you'll feel bad.

Dear Desi, consider the wonderful things about your school.  Because they are there.  In six years at that school (7th -12th grades), I didn't have a lock on my locker and it would have been inconceivable to have something stolen.  I didn't lock my car either.  No one did. You are likely given the benefit of the doubt 9 times out of 10 by your teachers.  They know you.  They know your mom and dad.  They know your older sister.  When I went there, I was a Dahl and I was Marianne's sister and that helped.  You're Marianne's daughter.  Wowee wow wow.

You'll have the same teachers over and over.  Whether they're good or bad teachers, this can be an advantage.  You will learn their style.  You will learn how to get good grades from them.  You will learn which teachers will let you get away with things and how often. 

You have all sorts of opportunities.  You can participate in just about any activity you choose, concurrently.  They'll work around you.  If you have sports practice, play practice will be later.  If you're in the pep band and on the basketball team, you can do both.  You'll slip from the court to the band and it will work.  (Ask your mom about running off the basketball court to play the drums.)

And on maybe the biggest payday of small school life, someday it will be your graduation.  The whole town will show up and they'll all know you because they've watched you participate in everything just like they watched your mom participate in everything.  They'll be rooting for you.  Your teachers will have an invested interest in your after high school plans because you are such a part of their lives.  Your graduating class will feel like your family; kids you've spent enough time with that you know all their birthdays, you know their brothers and sisters and where their parents work, you know their plans and dreams.

Someday you may move away from your small town and infrequently visit your high school but if you're like me, when you once again walk down those halls, you'll feel the support of a tiny school in a tiny town permeating you still.

At Wells High School, I was somebody and I was loved.  And that matters.

The Pinewood Derby

Mark explaining the finer features of his car...he was a little (or a lot) red faced from running around with his friends.

Here's what I appreciate about the Pinewood Derby:

1) Adam to help Mark with the car.

2) The Design Mom for a design idea.

Mark's car:  complete with headphones.

3) Mark didn't place in the top three so we are not moving on to the district championships.

4) The good good leaders that patiently organize and run the race.

5) Mark's car made it down the track. 

6) Adam sent me home afterward and he and Braeden stayed to help to clean up.

Cub scouts in general is loud and head-ache inducing.  It is always chaotic.  It's sort of great too though.  There are cute boys who are sweet and enthusiastic combined with diligent leaders that make it all happen with a smile on their faces.

What's not to love?  (Especially when Adam sends me home afterward and he and Braeden stay to help clean up.)
 

My boys

1)  Mark has been missing Braeden.

Overheard:

Mark:  Do you even know what's been going on in this family?  I will tell you.  I started algebra yesterday!

Braeden:  Really?  With variables?

Mark:  um...

(editorial comment:  Mark didn't start algebra.)

2)  Braeden put on some pajamas he hadn't worn in awhile. (It's possible he's grown a bit lately.)

3)  Mark loves nothing more than taunting me about corn dogs which are nasty and shouldn't be consumed even in dire circumstances.  He and Adam texted this picture to me:

Notice Mark's extended pinkie.  We're pretty aristocratic like that.

They went to Wienerschnitzel.   Without me.  (Thankfully.)


4) Sunday afternoon I was tired (and uncharacteristically quiet).  Braeden was trying to cheer me up.  He said, "Mom, I don't know what we'd do without you.  I mean, after the party."

5) Mark built a little Lego something and I guess decided the architectural wonders of the world should be paying homage to it.

6) We stopped by at Whitney and Kelly's house.  They are moving (sniff) and had some treasures in the Goodwill pile that our boys intercepted.

Denim overalls (which were pulled on over Braeden's shorts, right there in the front yard), fur coat, blonde wig, hat.

I am so glad I have Emma.

One weekend down, one to go

I don't have any pictures of Braeden's Seussical performance...maybe after next weekend.  Instead you can see the treats I made for the concession stands.

I took the idea directly from pinterest.  I'm really not that clever on my own.

Are you getting tired of me writing about Seussical?  It's hard not to write about something that's been filling me up so completely.

Opening night was spectacular.  I loved every minute of it.  Except maybe the part when I was sitting next to one of the vice principals at the school.  We were having a lovely chat.  I mentioned that I'd homeschooled--it made sense in the context of the conversation--and her face soured like I'd squirted her with lemon juice.

(A lot of times, after I talk to a stranger, I wish I hadn't.)

But there are also plenty of strangers that I am glad I now know.

I loved after opening night exchanging exclamations of joy with other parents whose acquaintances I have made.  We were all exultant.  It was a thrill to watch our children have so much fun.

Saturday afternoon the show wasn't full.  I wanted it full!  They've worked so hard and I wanted their efforts rewarded by a full audience.  (It didn't help that it was a rare gorgeous day...people probably wanted to be outside.)

So now I keep "casually" mentioning the show to people and then I feel really awkward.  I am not a fan of promoting myself.  Promoting my children isn't much easier.

(A lot of times when I talk, I wish I hadn't.)

Saturday night's show was well attended.  Also, it made me laugh and made me incredibly happy.  One of the other mothers told me she'll cry when it's over and I think I will too.

Afterward, Braeden was full of energy and adrenaline and pure joy.  We relented to him going off with some of his friends.  I am young enough to remember how fun that was. I am old enough to feel nervous about him being with a carload of exuberant teenagers.  I am young enough that this is a new experience for me.   I am old enough to believe Geri when she told me to relax.  We were sitting at Applebee's and I was anxiously scanning the parking lot, waiting to see where he was.  A riotous group of ecstatic teenagers congregated on one side of the restaurant (heaven help the waitresses) and we were on the other. 

After Braeden and his friends arrived, he came over to our table because he didn't have any money.  His uncle Kelly slipped him some money amidst our protests.  Braeden took the money and kissed Kelly on the top of his head.  He was giddy and it was that kind of a night.

Here's something I know for sure:  seeing your kids happy is the most direct route to happiness.

May I suggest

I want to suggest an easy way to take care of family dinners.

Oh, did you think this was going to be a post on great ways to feed your family?

Because it's not.  And when I say I suggest, I don't really mean it.  (This has been a little crazy.)

I have found that the easiest way to make mealtimes easy is to not have them.

My little cog in the huge wheel that is the production of a musical at Braeden's school is to be the coordinator for the meals.  The last week plus of practice they go late into the night and the parents feed them.  So I've been feeding over a hundred people every night.  Cast, crew, orchestra musicians, parent volunteers, directors.  It's quite a production (and wouldn't be possible without all the monumental help from other parents...here's looking at you, Janet).

Here's who I have not been feeding:  my own family.

Last Friday we started the meals and I have no idea what my own family ate.

Saturday we had an evening adult stake conference session.  I had an apple before we left and Adam and I (and some friends) went out to Applebee's afterward and I had an ice cream sundae.  I don't know what our children ate.  (I know, I know, at this point, you're wishing I were your mom, right?)

Sunday:  we actually had dinner as a family.

Monday:  I brought home some leftover lasagna from the dinner we fed the masses.

Tuesday:  I took everyone to Shake and Go for hamburgers to repay them for the slave labor of helping me serve.

Wednesday:  I think Emma and Mark had fish sticks.  I also brought home a pizza from Little Caesar's because 1) it is on the way home and 2) Mark had called me a few times to tell me the fish sticks weren't doing it for him and 3) I knew when Braeden got home at 10:30 he'd be famished and cold pizza would make him happy.  It did.

Thursday:  I brought home leftover clam chowder because I made about three times too much.

I don't know what else we'll eat this weekend with all the hullabaloo surrounding the performances.  Sunday I am going out on a limb and making dinner, though.  It will be a big moment.  (Assuming I still remember how to make dinner.)

Two good things about all this:  Emma and Mark are remarkably resilient it turns out.  Good kids.  And, we've had very few dishes to wash.

Bonus.