22 years

Today's our anniversary.  We've been Mr. and Mrs. for 22 years and it was a smart move on my part.

Adam's a good man and a good husband and a good father.

Even after 22 years there are things I don't understand about him though.  He likes to referee.  Why would anyone like to referee?  People yell at you.  You do get a whistle; there's that.  But people yell at you.

We like a lot of the same podcasts but he likes weird podcasts too.  His repertoire includes but is not limited to First Mondays which is a podcast about the Supreme Court and Brock and Salk which is Seattle sports radio.  I don't understand it.  Literally, I have no idea what they're talking about.

I also don't understand Adam's willingness--no eagerness--to inconvenience himself to help other people.  I would like to fancy myself as a person that is happy to help other people but I realize I'm a self-centered brat when compared to Adam.

Tonight he's going to help Robert with the Ruby Mountain Relay.  Adam will stay up all night and sit on a dark country road and manage runners so Robert can get a little sleep.  He does it because Robert is his friend/brother-in-law and he wants to help.

He's not normal.

But he's mine.

And I love him.

My morning routine

Every morning I go down to the basement to get on the elliptical runner.  I dig through the blankets to find the remote.  I consider that we have the worst AC in the world.  Our top floor is hot and you need blankets in the basement.

I find the remote and switch on HGTV.

Lately I've discovered Gilmore Girls is playing on the adjacent channel to HGTV.  I switch channels when there's a commercial and it's multi tasking at its finest.

(And look at me, knowing how to find two channels.)

After I'm done exercising, I gather up the dishes our lovely children left the day before.  Yesterday a bowl was literally stuck to the coffee table with some sort of sticky substance.

I walk up the stairs, rethinking my whole life and feeling like I failed in mothering but it's probably too late but they'll move out soon and they can stick their own grubby bowls to their own sticky tables and it won't be my problem any more.

It's a heart warming morning routine.

I am almost jealous...but not quite

Braeden and Branson--Branson is recovered from surgery and back in Virginia

A new crop of missionaries went to the Virginia Chesapeake Mission.  Facebook has been littered with pictures of their district, pictures from the MTC, pictures from the airport, reports of who is going to be companions with who, mothers connecting, reports of phone calls from the mission office letting mothers know their missionaries arrived.  There's talk of a site where there are regular updates and newsletters from the mission.  A group of mothers of missionaries in that mission are setting up a regular lunch group in the SLC area.

When Braeden went on his mission, there was no Virginia Chesapeake Mission Parents group.  I got this one really blurry picture from the airport that some kind soul sent me.

I had no idea if/when he made it to Virginia.  I didn't know who his companions were until I heard from him a week later.  There was no connecting with other mothers.  There was no newsletter.

I would have loved any one of those things. (I love more that I'm counting down days until my missionary is home.)

Rebecca texted me this picture last night:

I love everything about this picture.  I love how over the moon happy Braeden looks (and I know he was over the moon happy because he loves the Justesens).  I love that they drove to Gloucester to say good-bye to him.  I love that there are so many good people in the world.

A drive to Green River

Last night Emma was working and Mark was at scout camp and it seemed like the perfect time to go to dinner to celebrate our anniversary that is later this week.  We had a reservation at a posh restaurant at Sundance and I was looking forward to it.

Then, Mark called.  He had gashed his leg on an unseen underwater pipe when he was jumping into some water.  We needed to go get him.

I cancelled the reservation and I called Adam.  He said, "OK, I'll pack up my stuff right now and come home."

It was doing what we do.  Side by side.  For 22 years it's been us together, figuring out what needs to be done, trying our best to take care of business.  We listened to podcasts and talked and held hands while we drove.  It seemed like a good way to celebrate our anniversary after all.

Mark doesn't need stitches and his tetanus shot is up to date.  He's hoping that a day of resting at home instead of hiking in Arches National Park with the rest of the scouts will cure him sufficiently that he can go back tomorrow for river rafting (Adam was planning to go anyway so he can take him back).  He will recover, his swimsuit not so much.

I'm grateful for the good scout leaders who are away from their jobs and families for the week, taking care of my boy.  They were concerned about him and patched him up and are the kind of men I would love for Mark to emulate.

Sometimes a gashed leg shows you how good you have it. 

Emma and Mark

During lunch

Emma (shaking head):  You're just like your dad.

Mark:  So now he's my dad?

When Adam bought Echo Dots for Emma and Braeden and not Mark

Mark:  Well, I got something they didn't get.  Good looks.

(Then Mark talked to Alexa and preempted Emma's request.)

Emma: (with dramatic anguish) Can't you let me have this one thing?



By the way, Alexa's best joke so far:  How do you wake up Lady Gaga?  Poker face.



These two enjoy each other.  They are sufficiently weird to crack each other up.

In two weeks from tomorrow (but who's counting am I right?) the third weird one will be here to add his razzmatazz.

I like my life.

Grateful Friday

Since Emma started her two jobs, she's not been working on Snapfish books for me anymore.  (Which is a tiny bit tragic because I felt like I was getting a good deal there.)

Anyway, I'm back to being the responsible one for the Snapfish books and I decided I'd better get cracking.

I looked at the pictures Emma had sorted into albums for 2015.  It's fun looking back at the past and remembering what a good life you've got.

2015 was the year the kids swam in Walden Pond:

It was the year we crammed three (fairly) good-natured kids in the backseat of a car and drove them all over New England:

2015 was the year this kid finished public school...

...and this kid started public school.

2015 was the year I left a big piece of my heart on the sidewalk outside the MTC.

(I mostly recovered...I'll be all better in 18 days.)

2015 was the year we discovered The Great British Baking Show--here's my Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry now:

It was a good year.  That's what happens when you hang out with the right sort of people.

I'm pretty grateful for my present too.  I picked two ripe tomatoes out of my tiny garden yesterday and popped them in my mouth on the way in the house.  Are store bought tomatoes and garden tomatoes even related?

Also, we had book club last night and it's a high point of each month.  We laugh a lot.  And last night we, the handful of old ones, taught the young'uns about the glory of Gunne Sax dresses. 

I'm looking forward joyfully to my future.  Did I mention 18 days?  Then I'm looking forward to our trip to Seattle, our trip to Washington, D.C. to be with Stella, holidays with all three of my darlings (four if you count Adam and I do).

I'm feeling grateful today.

We are family

Yesterday Emma was rejoicing that today she only has to work at one of her jobs.  Adam said, "You should trade cars with me and when you get home, you guys should drive up to Tibble Creek."

"To what end?" I asked.  He's really the one that likes to go on drives.  I like being with him, but when he's not there, the drive seems pointless.

"I think I'd rather just be home," Emma said.

Adam shrugged.

*****

Last night we sat on our deck and watched the lightning.  It was a spectacular show punctuated by a few stray fireworks left over from past festivities.

While we were out there, Adam was looking at pictures and videos his family sent him from their vacation at Banks Lake.  Adam said, "Next year I want to go to Banks Lake with them."

"Let's do it," I said.

They were texting back and forth and Adam said next year we are coming too.

Brian texted back, "But Thelma doesn't like the boat or waverunners."

Adam replied, "But she likes pontoon boats, I'll rent one of those."

I don't know that I do necessarily enjoy pontoon boats any more than other boats or waverunners.  I like them all fine, for about 10 minutes.  Then I'm ready to find a place to sit and read.

From the first New Year's we spent with Adam's family and they were all watching football in one room and I was reading in the next room, I've been sort of the weird one.

They love water (boating, swimming, waverunners) and camping and sports.   I love sitting on the beach, reading and hotels and eating garlic fries at Safeco Field. 

The other day when Marianne and Clarissa were here, we were talking about the inevitable in-laws that will join our families some day.

If one of my children marry someone that doesn't like theater or British television or moving furniture or discussing current events (I don't know...trying to come up with things that define our family here), I hope we're as nice to them about it as Adam's family is to me.  They're a little mystified by my boring preferences, but they mostly just shrug and are happy to see me anyway.

It's nice to belong.  Even if you're the weird one.