Glad it's not a contest. I'd lose.

When I send Adam an email that is trying to be funny, he sends me an email that is funnier.

When I tell Adam that I feel worried/insecure/lame, he makes me feel safe/happy/successful.

I almost always feel like I got the better end of this marriage thing.  (Except I'm better at finding things...no, not geographical things.  He knows where things are, inexplicably,  in cities we've never been to.  I know where things are in our cupboards and closets.)

When we hiked to the Ice Caves recently, I snapped a few pictures.  Adam did this with his phone:

(click on the image and drag--it will take you 360 degrees)



On the second panorama, can you spy (with your little eye) Geri and me helping Raelyn with her shoes (our niece)? Can you see Emma being The Thinker in Rodin fashion? The boys are there too. I don't know what they're doing.

Life with Adam is a pretty good gig.

The upside of rain

Around here, there's been talk of breaking the record for the longest period without rain--51 days.  It has made some people a little crazy.

I recognize the irony of us being excited about a dry spell when a lot of the country is suffering from a drought.  I grew up in a place where we prayed for rain.

Friday night Braeden and Emma went to a high school football game.  He is very sweet to welcome his little sister along at such times.  (He did however absolutely forbid her from wearing her red jeans which she wanted to wear.  Glacier Peak was playing Snohomish and Snohomish's colors are red and white.)

The weather on Friday was glorious in its dry sunniness.  I thought what a marvelous night for a football game.  It wasn't even too cold when we went to pick them up in the 10:00 hour.  Fabulous.

Then as we arrived at the game and saw wave after wave of people leaving, I saw wave after wave of high school girls wearing really short shorts.  Apparently that is the thing to wear to football games.  That and little tutus.  (?)  I looked at otherwise very cute girls who appeared to have unflattering thunder thighs with their short shorts. Don't they have mothers?  Mirrors?

With a teenage son, I especially regret partially clad teenage girls.  The forecast for today?  63 and rainy.  Thank goodness. 

Golden tickets of happiness

I took Mark to his first day of a home school P.E. program that I had signed him up for at the YMCA.  It is two hours long, once a week.  I set up a meeting during it with the primary president from a different ward.  They have stuff in a closet and it's our closet.  (I have the key!)  Closet space is a golden ticket to happiness.  At home and at church.

I also had a list of errands to knock out while I was footloose and fancy free.

We got to the YMCA and learned that parents have to stay there.

Rats.

I hurriedly called the other primary president to tell her I had to cancel and I grabbed a book out of my car so I could read.

(Having a book with you at all times is a golden ticket to happiness.)

My errands didn't get done.

Mark started in the pool and swam for an hour then got changed and went to the gym for the second hour.  After swimming he came dripping to the lobby to find me and tell me that he'd lost his t-shirt.  I went into the room with the pool and found it where he'd left it, right next to his backpack.  His flip flops were there too.  Then we saw a guy carrying Mark's goggles to go turn them into lost and found.

(Is this why they don't let parents leave them behind?)

As I was walking Mark to the gym, he informed me that he'd forgotten underwear.  (He had worn his swimsuit to the pool.)  There was nothing we could do about that.

He had a good time and told me all about it on the way home.  We saw Emma and her friend Hannah walking home from the bus so we stopped to give them a ride.  Emma got in the front.  (Shotgun is a golden ticket of happiness for that one.)  Hannah got in the back with Mark.

Mark told her he had no underwear on.

Hannah said, "OK then."

"Mark!" I exclaimed, "Too much information.  You don't need to tell people that."

(sorry Hannah)

Later I told Janet this story and she asked me if it was going to end up on my blog.  I said no.  Then here it is.  It's a mystery where Mark inherited his over sharing.

I had a hair appointment and Megan--with the amazing and mysterious blow drying skills--styled my hair into smooth waves.  (Something I have neither the ability or willingness to devote time to.)  I like having her transform me for a day.

Last night we went to Back to School Night at Braeden's school.  The evening started with a meeting in the gym.  First, Janet and I were reprimanded for not finding a seat quickly enough by the principal (fondly known in our house as Papa Bear).  Then Papa Bear gave all the parents a little speech with parenting advice.  Things like:  always know where your kids are and who they're with.  Whoa!  This is good stuff!  I should be writing this down!

(Sorry, Papa Bear.  I guess I outgrew principal lectures about the same time I outgrew caring about tardy policies.)

Adam stayed in the commons during the speech because he's rebellious like that.  Someone approached him and asked him if he was there representing ROTC.  He told them to start doing pushups.  (He didn't really but that would have been funny, don't you think?)

We then had to follow our students' schedule.  I think Michelle Obama would be proud of Braeden's schedule and it's contribution to fighting childhood obesity.

Sheesh.

We started on the 3rd floor then went to the first floor on the other side of the building then back to the 3rd floor.  Up and down, back and forth.  No wonder they have tardy policies.

That was the least intimidating part of the schedule though.  That kid has some challenging classes.  I hope some sort of Freaky-Friday-you-have-to-trade-places-with-your-teenager doesn't happen.  I feel like I should step up the lunches I pack for him.

We sat by Jill during AP World History.  I asked a question that Adam thought was embarrassing.  Jill wrote "Cute Hair" on my paper with her red pen.  (Because we're good girls and don't talk in class.)  Then my pen died and Jill gave me her red pen and fished another out of her bag.  (Good friends with extra pens are a golden ticket to happiness.)

All my notes were written with Jill's red pen so at the end of the evening, Adam saw "Cute Hair" written on my paper and he wondered which teacher I had written that about.  And probably more importantly, why I felt compelled to do so.  I explained Jill had written it, about my--you know--cute hair.

Speaking of my cute hair, when I said goodnight to Braeden after giving him all my opinions about his teachers (and their cute hair), Braeden said, "I can't get used to you with your hair like that."

I said, "Don't worry.  It will be back to curly tomorrow."

Mark said, "How much does it cost to have your hair done like that?"

I asked him why he wanted to know.

He said, "Because if it only lasts one day, you can save your money.  I could do that for free."

Books I read in August 2012

First, I tried to read a memoir and it was boring.  I want to like memoirs.

Then, I started reading two other books.  I was a few pages into each of them and decided they were trashy.  Trash-y. 

In a last ditch effort to find something I liked to read while waiting for books to come in that I'd placed on hold at the library, I picked up a Sophie Kinsella book.  They are always entertaining.

Shopoholic and Sister by Sophie Kinsella ***

Sophie Kinsella writes books that make me cringe and make me laugh out loud.  Her characters are both extremely likable and extremely unlikable.  Flawed and funny and kind.  Works for me.

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett *

I feel like this book blindsided me.  It was good.  It was interesting.  There were compelling characters, a fascinating setting, a captivating plot.  Then in about the last five pages, the characters completely disappointed me.  They ruined everything and I felt really disgusted with them.  If I hadn't liked them all along the book, it wouldn't have been so bad.  So don't read this book.  Unless you love being completely disappointed.

Then I read something and I can't remember what it was.  You can see why I record books I've read here.  I can't remember after a few weeks if I've read a book.  That's sad.  I should write this earlier in the month...

I started to read The Paris Wife by Paula McLain.  It was about Earnest Hemingway's first wife.  In the prologue, it talked about the end of their marriage.  Depressing.  So I couldn't really get into the book and it wasn't all that compelling.

I also started to read Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout.  It had been on my To Read list for awhile but it was hard to follow and depressing and I didn't like the characters very much.  I abandoned reading.

Bright Side Up by Amy Spencer ****

I usually prefer novels but this sort of self-help optimistic book was a good one.  It had simple strategies to give a positive spin to things life throws at you.  I recommend it.

(If I remember that other book I read, you'll be the first to know.)

First day(s) of school

Emma had to go to school yesterday, she doesn't today.

Braeden didn't have to go to school yesterday, he does today.

It's kind of strange.

Emma has a brand new school so they were easing the kids into it--8th graders the first day, 7th graders the second.  As for Braeden, it was freshman only the first day and since he's a sophisticated (maybe sophisticated?) sophomore he didn't have to go.

(Mark had to go both days.)

On Emma's first day, she was feeling fine:

Braeden, because he's That Sort of Brother, got up to wish Emma well. (Emma is not so much That Sort of Sister.  This morning Braeden woke her up to say good-bye.  She groaned at him.  He said, "Well...good-bye.  Have a good day."  She mumbled something.  Braeden smiled at me, like 'there's Emma for you.')

He kind of got up with her yesterday.  He kind of lay on the couch.  He was chatty with Emma though.  They speculated about everything there is to speculate about before the first day of school.

I made Mark put a shirt on before school.  He did about 2 seconds before this picture.

He could hardly contain his glee at going back to school.

Finally a smile.  Maybe because he gets to wear his pajamas to school.

Mark and I had a good first day of school.  There was a brief panic (from Mark) and drama (from Mark) when he forgot how to subtract but this isn't my first rodeo so we worked through it.  (Every summer I vow to take steps to stop the summer brain drain.  Every year I don't take those steps.)

It's OK though.

We'll fill that brain back up.  During history when we snuggled on my bed and he went and found a blanket and carefully tucked it under my chin because he doesn't want me cold and I read to him, I felt supremely content.

I was right where I wanted to be.

Emma had a lovely first day of school.  She had a sheaf of papers for the helicopter parents to carefully read.  I signed my name at the bottom but I didn't really read them because I stopped worrying about tardy policies and grading procedures when I stopped going to school.  I can't imagine a scenario where I will need that stuff.

"Mrs. Davis, your daughter was tardy."

"What?  Why wasn't I informed there was a policy?"

"You were.  You signed the paper right here. You were supposed to commit the intricacies of this policy to memory."

"Noooooooooooo."

Anyway.

Braeden went to school today.  He was happy.

(It was early enough that this picture didn't look blurry to my blurry eyes.) What I lack in photography skills, I made up for with breakfast.

I woke up early and prepared a wonderful breakfast for my boy.  (Or I bought some frozen egg McMuffin type things from Costco.)

Braeden was both opinionated and witty about the concoction.

Hopefully he'll come home as happy as when he left.

And... we're back.

Ready or not

The other day I mused to Mark, "What would I do without you?"

He said,  "Probably cry all day."  (Poor kid, no self esteem.)

The only good part about school starting is homeschooling Mark.  It makes me excited and fills a creative need and provides a challenge.

The really rotten part about school starting is the dark cloud on the horizon that is invisible but there reminding me that Braeden is a sophomore and I have three short years left with him, five years with Emma.

How is that possible?

I am grateful that they will have the opportunity and ability to go out on their own someday.  I am.

Can you be grateful for something you dread?  Apparently.

It occurs to me that I can be melancholy about all of this...or not.  It won't change anything either way.  So yesterday when we took a hike, I just enjoyed our children.

I also enjoyed the scenery which, it must be said, is spectacular. On perfect days like this, I think the rain is not so bad...it means all these trees get a drink.

 

I soaked it in (the sunshine and the children) and tried not to think about it being the last. Day. Of. Summer.

Years ago, as she was preparing for her youngest and fifth child to graduate from high school, I asked a friend how she could possibly cope.

She said, "They have a way of preparing you."

I see glimpses of that from time to time.  Sometimes my teenagers are self-centered and cheeky and demanding enough that I just want to say go away.  But they're going to have to act like that a lot more to get me prepared to let them go.

Cheap trumps pretty

I spent an uncharacteristic amount of time deciding about which mixer to get to replace my old KitchenAid.  I valued the valuable comments from my valued readers.  I can see how a Bosch is a good machine but I decided I wanted a KitchenAid because they are familiar and I liked my old one and they're prettier.

Pretty trumps practical sometimes.

Then I couldn't decide between red and white.  I like red because, it's red! 

All my appliances are white and I like white and white is versatile and the other night I had a dream that I had a turquoise kitchen.  You never know when I might decide I want a turquoise kitchen and white would work.

White or red.  Red or white.  (I loved aqua too but couldn't commit to that.)

Then I went to Costco and saw that they had KitchenAid mixers...the exact ones I wanted..for $50 less than I had seen the white one and $100 less than I had seen the red one anywhere else!

They didn't have white.  They didn't have red.  They had silver.

Silver matches...my wedding ring?

Appreciate the challenge of taking this picture since I am left handed...I'd do anything for you. (As long as it's not harder than taking a picture of my left hand...don't get any ideas.)

And in the same way pretty trumps practical, sometimes cheap trumps pretty.

And it is kind of pretty...