15

Is this real life?  My baby?!?

Mark at fifteen:

1) Some nights he won't go to bed until we've snuggled.

2)We are going to the DMV today to get him a book to study for a driver's permit.  He's ready.

3) He is stubborn and has strong opinions.

4) He is funny.  He told me the other day that just because American doesn't mean Ameri-should.  He is all the funnier when he is with Braeden.  Their latest idea:  a new version of the LDS Tools app.  It's for all the people in your ward that annoy you.  Mark said, "For example, the guy who can dunk the ball but won't show up for church basketball.  You think, what a tool, and you put his name in LDS Tools."

5) He's also all the weirder when he is with Braeden. (They've started calling each other "youngblood" for some reason only they understand.)

6)  I made Mark French toast for his birthday breakfast.  He ate nine pieces.  They were small, but still.  He eats an astonishing amount of food.

7) Every time we pull into the garage, he asks if there's anything to carry in from the van.

8) He loves music--a great variety of genres, including but not limited to 80s rock ballads.

9) We went out to dinner Saturday night to celebrate his birthday.  He wanted to go to a buffet.  I tried to talk him out of it, because blek, but he told me about the categories of restaurants. Fast food restaurants are for just getting food fast, fast casual is for going with your family, sit down restaurants are for formal occasions (not sure what that means exactly) and buffets are festive.  He said, "A birthday is festive, so I want a buffet.  And also a lot of food."  (I had been blissfully unaware of all these rules.)

10) He's the kind of kid who smiles when you ask him why he's limping and tells you about playing tackle capture the flag with his friends.  He happily told me his friend "laid him out," but Mark still scored the winning point.  Then he proudly showed me the big scrape on his arm.

11) Nearly all of his friends have been hit by cars.  Seriously.  (Mark has been too.)

12) He likes to tell me he's "not as smart as Braeden and Emma," but he can transform his D in Spanish into an A- in less than a week if that D means he can't hang out with his friends.  (Also, I homeschooled him so he's not fooling me.  He's smart.  He just needs to, you know, turn in his assignments.)

13) He is good at building things and fixing things.

14) He loves cars.  He loves reading about cars, looking at cars, telling me about cars and I know he'll love driving cars too.  Pray for us.

15) He has spent most of his life firmly believing he is my favorite child.  (He probably still thinks that.)  He isn't my favorite, but he's the best Christmas present I ever got.

If Mark had a uniform it would be a white t-shirt.  I'm pretty sure 90% of the pictures I have of him, he's wearing a white t-shirt.  Here he is opening his gift from Grandma Geri.  

Mark wanted his cake decorated with Lego candies.  I gave him the candy and told him to decorate it.  His brother and especially his sister had a lot of comments/criticism.

He didn't appreciate their opinions.

I love this kid!

School

I finally decided enough was enough and I was pulling Mark out of his English class where he isn't learning anything.

I mulled over options and called the school to get an appointment with the counselor to discuss.  He called me back but wouldn't let me have an appointment.  I even said, "So you won't make an appointment with me?"

He said with all sorts of false friendliness, "I really don't think we need to."

I said fine, he could send home the class schedule for me to pick another class.

But I didn't really want to pick another class.  I wanted to talk to the counselor about options.  And what I really wanted was for Mark to not have a class that period so he could be home and we could work together on his online English course.

Mark was skeptical.  "I don't know if they'll let you do that."

I am my mother's daughter.  I said, "Oh, they will."  Pretty much the only time I'm 100% confident is when I'm going into battle for one of my children.  Because I will die on that hill.  (Whatever hill it is.)

I went to the school yesterday with a book in my purse.  I was prepared for a stakeout in the counselor's office until he would meet with me.  I tried to think of Adam (who insists that to get results I will get further if I'm not too concerned about being right) and my dad (who taught me you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar) but in the end I was a little vinegar-y after all.

I sat in the counselor office waiting room for 45 minutes waiting for my chance.  There were a fleet of students in line ahead of me with green slips because they needed to change classes for next semester.  I was very grateful I'd brought my book.

At one point an English teacher (happily not one Mark has ever had) marched in and scolded one of the boys waiting to see the counselor.  "You've missed all this class time!" she shrieked.

"I'm waiting to see the counselor," he said meekly.

The teacher spoke to him with astonishing disdain and disgust.  She said, "Get back to class, now!  You've wasted all this time."  She stormed away.

He sunk lower in his chair, but to his credit, he stayed where he was.  He was, after all, next in line.  I wanted to put my arm around the morose boy with greasy hair and bring him home and feed him cookies.  After he met with the counselor the receptionist in the counselor office quietly apologized to the boy and told him he had done nothing wrong.

I felt ashamed of both the receptionist and myself that we'd let someone bully a child and we'd done nothing to defend him.  I was thinking with regret that I always seem to miss these chances.  Then I was startled to realize that the last time I felt regret about not speaking up, it had involved the same English teacher.  She and I had been selling tickets for The Importance of Being Earnest and she'd said something very racist and I'd been stunned into silence, only wishing later I'd said something.

What is it about that woman?  Maybe I should look up her email address and send her all the belated things I want to tell her.

I finally got my day in the sun and was able to see the counselor.  He looked around the waiting area with a big smile, like he was proud of his popularity.  "Everyone wants to see me today," he said.  "Yesterday no one did."

So that's when I got a little salty.  I told him that I was the one who had called him yesterday.  I said, "Since you refused to make an appointment with me, I decided to come and just wait until you'd see me."  Then he was suddenly Mr. Helpful.  He tripped over himself trying to be accommodating.

To my credit, I didn't roll my eyes.  I told him what I wanted.   I asked him about online courses.  I told him I was considering using BYU independent study and he said that was a great option.  He said it was a very simple process to get Mark out of a class period and I just needed to talk to the registrar.

The registrar sent me to the district office (which is in American Fork so not quite the promised simple process).

The people at district office cautioned me to use an accredited English course.  I said, "I'm considering using BYU independent study."  They told me that was not on the district's approved list.

It was 20 degrees outside and the counselor who told me BYU was "a good option" had been wearing sandals.  I should have known not to trust him.

All's well that ends well and I came home with my notarized paper giving Mark permission to stay home for A1 next semester (they have an AB schedule and I'm going to have to start paying attention which day it is!).

Our kids have had some really stellar teachers.  They've had teachers that inspire and motivate them and encourage and love them.

I wish we could box all the rotten teachers up and send them away somewhere.  Somewhere with no cookies.

Online Shopping Wizardry

Or voodoo.

I don't know.  Strange things are afoot.

A few days ago a package arrived on my doorstep from Lowe's.

It had my name on it but I didn't open it because I hadn't ordered anything from Lowe's.  I waited until I could ask Adam if he had ordered it, in case he ordered something for me from Lowe's that arrived in a medium sized box?  Maybe?

Adam hadn't ordered anything from Lowe's either so I opened the packing slip.  It was addressed (and obviously delivered) to me but someone name Ki Fani had placed the order and used a MasterCard to pay.

I have a MasterCard debit card but I never use it.

I called Lowe's customer service.  In case you were ever thinking of making a quick call to Lowe's customer service let me save you the trouble.  Don't.  After going through a dizzying maze of options, none of which resulted in talking to a person, I finally pushed 2 and listened to their really horrible hold music while I waited to possibly talk to a person.

(Why is all hold music in America terrible?  It's like the terrorists are winning on that one.)

While I was on hold, I tidied up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher and then got online to check my other packages that were on their way.  (They were experiencing longer than normal wait times, like they do.)

According to Amazon, I had had a package delivered on my front porch.  My immediate thought was that maybe my package had been stolen because a few people in my neighborhood have had packages stolen recently.  Then I decided to rip the box from Lowe's open and just see if it was what I had ordered from Amazon by chance.

And it was.

I have zero explanation for any of this and I'm really hoping that Ki Fani got what they ordered, which probably arrived in an Amazon box with a packing slip of what I'd ordered.

Who knows.

Sometimes you just need your grandma

Grandmas were a wonderful invention.  I was blessed with grandmothers that inspired me and loved me and helped me to be better.  I love them both.

I'm blessed with dear grandmothers for my children.  (And really, when someone loves your children, that's pretty much the best thing that can happen to you.)

Both our kids' grandmas are fun to be around, generous with their gifts and praise, and good women worthy of emulation.

We loved having Geri here.  It made our kids so happy to see her and spend time with her.  Some of them are better at showing it than others, but I can tell.  Those kids love her.

Grandmas are always on your side and I can't wait to be one someday.  (Well I can wait, I'm not in any rush, but I will welcome the adventure when it comes!)

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

Last night we went to the Hale Theater to watch A Christmas Carol.  Often when we go to the theater, Emma is working but last night she didn't have to work and we got a ticket for her too.

As the intermission was drawing to a close, Emma noticed something was amiss that the ushers should have taken care of.  There was a barrier across one of the stage entrances that had been placed there for the intermission but that needed to be taken down.

As the lights dimmed, Emma went to the booth to let them know of the problem.

When she came back she whispered to me, "I just saved Christmas."

And Christmas is worth saving.

Sunday a little kid was bearing his testimony in church and he said that Christmas is a time to give, not a time to receive.

Braeden whispered to me, "That's not true."

And it isn't.

I was struck once again (I cried and had make-up smudged raccoon eyes to show for it) by Christmas during the show.  There's something about live theater and the way they portray A Christmas Carol at the Hale Theater.  It gets me.

In the last scene of the show, Ebenezer Scrooge sings this:

God rest ye merry gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

Remember Christ our Savior

Was born on Christmas Day

To save us all from Satan's pow'r

When we were gone astray

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Because of Christ's birth, because of what He freely gave us, we are saved when we have gone astray.  We are lifted when we sorrow.  We have Light in the darkness.  Comfort and joy indeed.

I'm grateful for what we receive on Christmas.  It is about receiving, receiving the glorious gift of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  

(I also like giving gifts.  Especially wrapped in red.)

A jolly holiday

Braeden gave Hobee (Braeden's favorite bear) a ride on Horace

Well, we've been having fun.

Geri came on Friday evening (and so did Braeden).  We introduced her to Quiplash (and she soundly beat us) and we spent the evening visiting and enjoying.

Saturday people sort of came and went but we had lots of together time too.

Except we missed Emma.  (She had a performance Friday night and Saturday afternoon and homework and the like.)

Saturday night, we went to her concert.

How I loved it!  As part of the concert, they showed this video.  You can see Emma really briefly several times.





I can't get over how blessed we are 1) to be able to go to lots of BYU stuff because those kids are amazing or 2) that our kids get to go to that great place.

Each choir was spectacular and then the philharmonic orchestra played the Nutcracker suite and Sleigh Ride.

No one can be uncheered by that sort of business.  The entire evening was uplifting and we cried except Mark (who possibly has ice water in his veins or perhaps is too young for the curse of crying).

We happily greeted our songbird after and Adam and I took pictures at the same time so no one is looking at the same camera.

Emma had a gala event for choir after so had to rush off to get ready for that.

After every other concert, we've taken Emma out for celebratory ice cream after.  When we were driving home, Braeden said, "You know...I don't need Emma here to eat ice cream."

Adam stopped at McDonald's.  Because if you give a son ice cream, they're going to want a burger to go with it.  That's science.

Mark introduced Braeden to the "McChuckle."  It's Mark's own invention where you stick a McChicken inside a McDouble.

Mark is giving Braeden a bite but keeping his hand on the creation so Braeden doesn't get any ideas.

I stick with the Hot Fudge Sundae.  That and Diet Coke are the only palatable things McDonald's has to offer.

Sunday we celebrated Pikkujoulu.  Last year whenever I heard Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, when I heard, "next year all our troubles will be out of sight," I thought about this Christmas.

Nestled next to Braeden on the couch (both sons = world champion snugglers), I realized that my last year's Christmas wish had come true.  Life is never perfect but it is better and I love having my boy back.

We ate all the normal spread (clam chowder in sour dough bread bowls) and the treats.  The kids opened their ornaments (from us and from Geri) and Adam read A Wish For Wings that Work.  Mark read parts of the Christmas story from the scriptures in Spanish, Braeden played music for us and testified of truth.  Emma read Who's That Knocking on Christmas Eve.

Two exciting things happened amidst our celebration:  the first snow and the Christmas bear arrived.

Braeden built a mini snowman in the skiff of snow:

The Christmas bear is a girl and guess who was thrilled by that:

We named her Noëlle.  

I love my people.

Grateful Friday

Wow.  This week has been a busy one.  Starting with Thanksgiving, I feel like I've been running on a treadmill that keeps speeding up.

Marianne and I were talking about stress yesterday.  She and I are the same.  We are do-ers (you can't be Coralee Dahl's daughter and not be a do-er).  We get stuff done.  But we have a threshold and when we have more to do than we feel like we can comfortably do, we get stressed.  Marianne told me (based on an article she read) that stress is bad for your health for people like us but some people thrive under stress and it isn't bad for their health.  So we need to be like those people.

Embrace the stress.

I don't know if I can teach this old dog that trick.

Here's something though.  One of the things taking a whole lot of my time this week was the Relief Society Christmas party.  I'm on the RS board.  (Apparently around here if there's a committee, put Thelma on it.)  This week I spent hours with the other women on the board.  We made ornaments together and planned and set up and cleaned up and carried stuff across the street from Susan's house (Susan has all the party stuff you ever need in your life) to Michelle's house (Michelle decorated her house in a stunning magnificent way to host the party).

Initially I felt a little (or a lot) begrudging about all the time spent when I had a busy week anyway.  Last night when I drove home late and with sore feet (because I wore the cute shoes that aren't super comfortable) the only thing I felt was grateful though.

I like those other women on the committee.  I enjoyed laughing with them and working together.  I loved the very real conversation we had about raising children.  Sometimes these things just happen when you're sitting around a table, painting and mod-podging.  I need time and shared experiences to make friends.  I'm grateful for opportunities to get to know good women, even when I thought I was too busy.