All they need to know

Are my nieces going to be unhappy that I am blogging about Mark, again?

Sorry girls.  I will try to give Braeden and Emma equal press time. (Also, you're way too sweet for me to be truly afraid of you. Also, maybe you don't really care what I write about? Also, maybe you don't read my blog anymore? )

Moving on.

All last week, I hung out with Mark and Gavin while Stephanie was off being awesome at Girls' Camp.

This was taken last summer during Girls' Camp and I can't believe how much younger they both look--especially Gavin-- but I still love the picture.

They're quite a pair.  They argue like brothers.  They play complicated games and talk constantly.  They discuss aliens and weapons and video games they haven't played.  They use their shirts instead of napkins.

One night we had "Manners Night."  I would say it's sort of a lost cause but then we were at Costco and Mark ran and pounced on a couch that was on display and Gavin lectured him about how you just can't do that and I saw a glimmer of hope.  At least for Gavin.  (Still waiting for that Mark glimmer.)

I had chocolate leftover from my assignment at Girls' Camp.  (We used it for an analogy which I would explain if I weren't so lazy.)  The boys wanted to know what the chocolate was used for so I told them.  Mark said, "If there's one thing I know about girls, it is that they flip for chocolate."

Gavin said, "Yes.  Girls love chocolate."  They nodded and walked away like they had it all figured out.  They sort of do.  As soon as they get those manners finessed and come to accept that there are napkins in the world for a reason, they're going to get along just fine.

They already know an important truth that will serve them well.

Girls love chocolate.

This weekend

This weekend:

I stewed and fretted about the drama program at Braeden's school.  It's a long story.  And not a very good one.  Who knew drama could be so...dramatic?

I looked for my camera (and didn't find it).

I read this, "This is your home, is it who you want to be?"

I felt ashamed because my home is kind of messy and looks like the home of someone who's been busy with other things.  Like reading a good book.

I read a good book.

I hosted a breakfast for one of my primary classes.

I added another girl to the list of girls my sons could pick from when they decide who to marry.  I am pretty sure they will come to me for the list when they're ready.  That's how it works, right?

I hugged my girl when she got home from girls' camp.

I laughed at my girl when she emerged from a deep nap and couldn't string a sentence together.  Then I felt a little bad for laughing.  Poor tired girl.  Then I thought, She shouldn't have stayed up until 3:00 a.m. just because it was 'the last night' if she didn't want to be so tired.  But I didn't say all that because I'm trying to be a nicer mom.

I'm not sure I'm there yet.  (At the nicer mom destination.)

With raspberries and peaches...don't you love summer and the Olympics and English trifles?

I made an English trifle for the opening ceremonies and was going to make bangers and mash but then couldn't find the potatoes (they were either hiding with my camera somewhere or I didn't actually buy them at the store.)

Adam made bangers and Stove Top stuffing which turned out to be pretty good.

I looked for my camera again.  I found it.

In the balance, a good weekend.  A pretty good life.

Grandpas' boy

When Mark was born, my mom said he looked my dad.  I didn't really see it because he didn't have a mustache.

Also, we gave Mark my dad's name.

Then his hair grew in.  Red like his Grandpa Linn, curly like his Grandpa Mark.

And he didn't just resemble his grandpas.  He loved them.  The youngest grandchild, he was always the one on Grandpa Linn's lap.  He ran into their arms whenever he saw his grandfathers.

Then more and more of his personality emerged.  He's a builder like his grandpa that built a house and creates art out of steel and sterling silver.  He's a builder like his grandpa that was an engineer and built airplanes.

Both grandpas were the go to if you needed anything fixed.  They could repair anything.  One lives far away and one lives in heaven and here we are.

Except Mark is starting to be able to fix things.  Like his grandpas.  He can put together an IKEA bookshelf like I can make a cake mix cake.  (Easily.)

A few days ago I had a new lantern to take to Girls' Camp.  I put the batteries in.  I couldn't get it put back together.  It shouldn't have been that hard.  I asked Braeden.  He shrugged.  Then I asked Mark.  He looked at it, he tried.  He couldn't make it work either.  I moved on to other pursuits.  (Sometimes I ignore problems and lanterns that won't go back together.)  A while later, Mark brought it to me.  He said, "I fixed it."  And he had.

Because he is his grandpas' boy.

And I am so glad.

Mark and Grandpa Linn

Mark and Grandpa Dahl

Just Mark.   I couldn't resist.  Where did this baby go?

I think Mark loves school

I have spent considerable time in the last month getting prepared for the new school year.  As mentioned, we are doing a completely new curriculum.  I have been researching and conversing with my panel of experts and reading and ordering and organizing.  It is all rather thrilling for me.

I know I'm not alone in the excitement.  Last week when I was on the phone with Enoch, he said, "Jennifer said to tell you all her school books arrived."  He added, "She said you'd understand."

And I do.  That's exciting stuff.

The other day, I got the entire first week of school planned.  Yes, school starts in September.  Yes, it is July.  Whatever the opposite of a procrastinator is, that's what I am.

Anyway, I excitedly asked Mark, "Guess what I did today?"  I think he did something noncommittal like shrug.

"I planned the first week of school!"

I was expecting a big hug, a look of glee, at the very least a smile.

Instead he gave me a look that was equal parts disgust and how-could-you-betray-me-like this.  Then he collapsed face down into a nearby couch, groaning.

I should have saved my exciting news for Jennifer.  She would understand.


I'm off to Girls' Camp for the day.  (Just the day.  I feel about camping like Mark feels about school starting.)  I am looking forward to seeing Emma though.  She left yesterday.  She'll be happy to know that no one slept in her bed last night.  When I changed her sheets yesterday there was a note tucked inside.  It read, "I TOLD you not to sleep in my bed!"  It may be a huge news flash for Emma but no one wants to sleep in her bed.  We all have beds. 

As nuts as they are, I'd be happy if my kids stayed home with me all the time but as you can see, they don't.

I'll be ready

If I ever magically become a cartoonist, I am ready with two ideas.  (Don't you think it's good to be prepared for these eventualities?)

Idea #1:

Deer would be playing soccer with...wait for it...cantaloupe.  The caption would read:  Where the deer with the cantaloupe play.

Nobody around here thinks that's as funny as I do.  Don't tell me what you think and I'll pretend you're rolling on the floor laughing right now.

Idea #2:

Someone would be at Cabella's, looking for clothes.  They can't find them because they are... camouflaged!

I know, that's possibly funnier than the first one.

You don't have to tell me how hilarious I am.  You just may need to tell my kids.  They  keep rolling their eyes at me and crushing my dreams. 

So here's my plan:

1) learn to draw
2) think of more than two ideas
3) think of ideas that people (besides me) think are funny

I think I'm practically ready to be a cartoonist!

Gone hunting

I came home with this picture.

My kids sort of freaked out.  "Why did you buy this Mom?"

I said, "I liked it."

"What?!?"

"Really, Mom.  Why did you buy this?"

"I wanted it," was my answer.

"Seriously Mom.  Why. Did. You. Buy. This?"

They were getting really agitated.  Their world didn't make sense.  Adam said, "Was it free at a yard sale?"  (Does Adam think I would bring home anything as long as it was free?)

"I bought it," I said.  I showed them the price tag.  The receipt.

"But why?!?"

Here's why.  I wanted the frame.  I was looking for a specific size of frame and couldn't find one.  It was the right size. 

I put the picture in it I bought at the Eisenhower Presidential Library.  (I like it a little more than the Gone Hunting picture.

It must be said that it was kind of fun, those thirty seconds that my family thought I'd lost my mind.  It's about as shocking as I get.  (I'm not a very scandalous person when it comes down to it.)

Makes me happy

I love it when there's a pile of my kids' friends' shoes by my front door.

The bigger the pile, the happier I am.  (My kids have good friends.)

It is rare to have a kid from the Pacific Northwest come to my house and not pause at the door to step out of his or her shoes.  It's part of our collective culture.  Kind of like the way we all keep an eagle eye out for slugs when we walk barefoot outside.