Phobia

If there is one little everyday thing I hate and fear, it is this.

Calling someone on the telephone and asking them to do something.

Reminder calls to the Young Women got easier with time. But soliciting somebody to bring a plate of brownies to some function or other will still virtually send me into a cold sweat.

Calling around for a backup babysitter for Z when our regular sitter is sick or has something to do with her kids (she is also a foster mom so life is about as busy for her as it is for me) is paralyzing. I am well aware that stay-at-home moms have a lot to do. And although I consider the women around here to be my friends, let's face facts: we do not get together for pedicures or bunco. I do not have time. So when I call them, they know I am looking for a favor. Even if it is a favor for which I will pay, it makes me feel like a heel. There are several people I am not even comfortable calling anymore. They have said no frequently enough that I just am not going to ask anymore. I can take a hint, see?

So, I have been working from home with Z for the last two days, thanks to the stomach flu in the sitter's house. Looks like I am doing it again tomorrow, unless I can convince G that one day is not going to throw off his dissertation. It's fun, I love it, don't get me wrong. But I can't get squat done, and I have a Friday deadline. Sigh.

It's good, I suppose, to be clear about my reasons for not trying to move into the better-paying, better-dressed fundraising wing of my office. Can you imagine me doing "the ask" for a cool million? I'd be puking on the cool millionaire's shoes.

Assemble, please

Random crap from my brain, it is now time to assemble yourself in an orderly list.

• It is time to find a new babysitter. The current sitter - I love her, and I hope we will stay friends. But she is sick about once a week. And she asks for days off so she can photograph someone's wedding. I hate to pull Z out of her home because I know for a fact there is love there. But I seriously need more dependability. Seriously.
  
• I think I ran over a bunny this morning. I could cry. There was really nothing I could have done differently, but dang it, I love the bunnies on campus. They make me think about Watership Down all the time. I wonder if someday they, and the red winged blackbirds, and the egrets and hawks and herons, will be only memories. I look at our development plans and I think they will. It makes me really sad. But the alternative is unacceptable. When it comes right down to it I still really believe in what we are doing.
  
• I would take a fast forward button for my life right now if I could find out where G is going to get a job. But then I would want a rewind button because other than the crazy-making of not knowing the future, we are doing great.
• I am not writing about my husband's career. But he has applied to a few more faculty jobs. I am trying not to spend too much time browsing real estate in the selected locations and dreaming about the beginning of my real life. That is all.
• Our new adoptions worker, assigned to both cases, is a Mormon guy who grew up attending our current ward. It almost goes without saying that this is a big improvement over the Wicked Witch of the West who was previously un-helping our kids. I really hope we helped get her fired. But I guess we will never know.
  
• I said no to an 18mo foster child who needed a home yesterday. The agency apparently thinks I am crazy. Crazy enough to have two 18mos, three other kids, and a full time job. Maybe they subscribe to the "what's one more" theory. To which I do not subscribe. Every time I have added just one more, it has jacked me up. No regrets on that; there are definitely rewards that make it worthwhile, but I cannot jack up my life right now. I am barely hanging on for the most part. It seems strange to me that I didn't feel at all bad about turning down this placement. But I really didn't.
• My dad said he thinks I am ready to write my own stuff full time. This had such a big effect on me. This and other things in the last week have made me realize that although I have worked hard to care less about what other people think, there are some people whose opinions will always matter a lot. That leaves me vulnerable in a lot of ways but it's also what gives our relationships weight and meaning.
  
• About the writing - I want to do it so much. See list item above about G getting a job. Health insurance is such a ball and chain!
• We took a big step over the weekend. We got a real couch. It was - well, I won't be crass and post the price, but it was about 20% of its original price on eBay and in very near new condition. Tan leather, quite large. We did fit it in the minivan, though, to bring it home from Modesto. Barely. Cross one thing off my weirdo list. I now own a couch. I can now veg in front of the TV like a real American. Next I have to get an antenna that works so I can watch TV again. Actually I probably will not do that. I am back to relishing the control over our viewing that occurs when there is nothing being broadcast to our set.
• I also spent my birthday money on a new stereo for my van. Recommence crying over NPR stories on the way to work. The earthquake. God help us. I know it's probably not true but it sure feels like there is more terrible stuff in the world than there ever has been before.
  
• The veggie garden is doing quite well. We have some first blossoms already on the Early Girl tomato plant. The sunflowers have all sprouted and I saw the shoots of one onion last night. Nothing lost to snails or ants yet. This is because I chickened out and did not go completely organic. I have ant stakes and snail pellets. The ants and snails in our yard are extremely aggressive! I think it's because all our neighbors spray and so we are the most chemical-free zone. At least there is nothing being sprayed on our plants.

Back to work. Y'all are so patient with my occasional brain puke. I do appreciate it.

Roasty toasty

Here's the menu from Sunday dinner last night. Every recipe has two strong flavors and plenty of roasted goodness. It is already really too hot to be doing this. I've gotta quit soon and get my grill going instead.

Orange-ginger glazed pork loin roast with sauteed spring onions
Red pepper and parmesan roasted broccoli and cauliflower
Rosemary and garlic roasted potatoes
Watermelon

Recipes below!

And I am going to start photographing my food. Any day now. I have a new camera, thanks to my wonderful in-laws, and there's no excuse. Life does move fast, but I spend too much time and effort on food to let it lapse into nothingness once it is eaten and the day is past. And I sincerely regret having no pictures of this dinner from last night.

Orange-ginger glazed pork loin roast with sauteed spring onions
1 tsp butter
2 spring onions, sliced, or one bunch of scallions, sliced (white and green parts)

1 2-lb. pork loin roast (I buy a 6-lb. roast at Costco and it makes us three Sunday dinners)
Salt and pepper

juice and zest of one orange
2 tbsp. lemon juice
2 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 c. orange marmalade
1 inch fresh ginger root, pressed through a garlic press or peeled and minced

Heat oven to 350.

Melt butter on medium-high heat in a dutch oven. Saute onions until the green color brightens. Remove from pan and set aside.

Rinse pork roast and pat dry Salt and pepper it, then brown it in the same pan. Cover and place in oven to roast for 1 hour.

Meantime, mix all the ingredients for the glaze. Brush over roast every 15 minutes.

When roast is done, remove from pan. Pour remaining glaze into pan with drippings and boil until thickened. Serve as a sauce with sliced pork roast, garnished with onions.

Red pepper and parmesan roasted broccoli and cauliflower
1 medium head broccoli, cut into florets
1 medium head cauliflower, cut into florets
2 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 - 1 tsp. red pepper flakes
2 tbsp. grated parmesan cheese
large pinch salt

Toss all ingredients together in a large bowl. Pour into baking pan and cover with foil. Roast alongside pork loin (at 350 degrees) for 40 minutes. Uncover for last 10 minutes.

Rosemary and garlic roasted potatoes
8 medium red potatoes, cut in 1" pieces
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. chopped fresh rosemary
2 cloves minced garlic
Salt and pepper

Toss all ingredients together in a large bowl. Pour into baking pan and roast, uncovered, for 40 minutes.

Influential

I first got wind of this on the twangy-good "Trek" CD I got at Time Out for Women. But it's special to me because its author, Sarah Pea Rich, is my ancestor.

Here's the full text of her 1891 autobiography, addressed to her children. I think it is not too presumptuous of me to consider myself one of them.

And then here's the part that's been running through my mind ever since I heard it.

I know, dear children, that the principles of Mormonism, as it is called, are true. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. How do I know it you may ask? I know it by hearing him prophesy what was coming, and have lived to see the things prophesied about come to pass. I have seen the sick healed by his administration; and in answer to his prayers, I have seen many miracles performed in this Church; have been nigh unto death myself, and have been healed by the power of the priesthood. I have seen some of you, my children, raised as it were, from death's door, by the power of the priesthood, by the laying on of hands by those who were in authority.

The Lord has established His work and His Church on the earth now in the last days never to be taken from the earth until He comes Himself to dwell with the Saints.

I want all of my children to do right and to keep the laws of God as revealed through those of His servants holding the power of communing with God our Heavenly Father. Never deny any of the principles of this the Latter-day work; live humble before the Lord; ask him for His Holy Spirit to teach you what is right and to keep you in the faith of this His latter-day work. Go forth and help to build up the kingdom of God on the earth. You, my dear children, if you do right, may live to see the wickedness swept off the earth and the laws of God set up in the land, never more to be torn down. Live so that you may gain favor in the eyes of our Heavenly Father; seek the salvation of your souls; and then live to help save others. This is the wish and constant prayer of your aged mother. ...

I pray for you daily and ask the Lord that you may all do right and be saved with your father in the kingdom of God. I have watched over and cared for you ... in all, my desire has been to see you all engaged in the work of the Lord. I have been a true believer in the principles taught by the Prophet Joseph Smith, and all the leading men of this church, I embraced that doctrine over fifty-six years ago. I still love those principles and know they are true. I know the Lord will bear off his kingdom triumphant in spite of all those who are opposed to his work.

Bless this woman! What did she endure for her faith? Persecution, financial losses, personal losses, polygamy, hardscrabble frontier living.

Shame on me if I can't weather a few bumps and a little confusion.

Gay marriage in Cali today

So you have probably heard that today California's Supreme Court ruled in favor of same-sex marriage. My lesbian co-worker came in all excited about the news, and what could I say but "congratulations!" I am really happy for her and everyone who has wanted this to happen.

A lot of my fellow Mormons are not so happy. So I thought I would blog my thoughts a little bit and maybe it will provide some insight why I approach it a little differently from other people who believe most all the same things I believe.

First of all, if you have read Watch Out for Mama or known me personally for any length of time, you know I have some family connections - two gay brothers, to be precise. I blunder around a lot of the time and I know I hurt feelings sometimes just because I am ignorant or have lingering prejudices or maybe I am just still figuring out what I think and feel. I never intend to hurt feelings. I love my brothers and want them to be happy. I think each of them is best qualified to judge what is needed for his own happiness. If they want to be married to pursue happiness (and yes, that is intentionally constitutional language) then - I don't think it's my business to say, "no, you can't do that." Nor would I want to.

So I think the government has to do something about this from a civil rights and equality standpoint, just out of respect for individuals and their natural rights. Admittedly, my preferred solution would be to make the state recognize only civil unions for both gay and straight couples, and leave marriage up to churches to confer according to their beliefs. I think that would be most fair to everyone and still provide religious freedom. But that is not the way the winds have blown. Plus, I am certainly no legal scholar and there's probably some insurmountable impediment that keeps the problem from being solved that way. I mean, why else wouldn't the world adopt my brilliant idea?

California has a state constitutional amendment probably coming up this fall to define marriage as man/woman only. But the amendment as currently constituted has no language to annul marriages that take place between now and the time it is or is not passed. And as I have said before, that is not a political initiative that I will be participating in except to cast my personal vote when the time comes.

So it looks like lots of people are going to be having weddings this summer. Weddings are happy no matter what. Does God recognize anything about these unions? Who am I to say? For us I think is only to love and support those we know.

Don't let me be like that

I am spending my morning listening to a webcast of important people who know how important they are getting ready to make an important decision. It's for work. They know what they're doing to do, but they are spending the morning talking about it, anyway. They like the sound of their own voices.

I can see aspects of that in my personality. When it gets to this level, I don't like it one little bit.

Just don't appoint me to any important positions.

Panic

I think S may have had a panic attack last night - rapid mouth breathing and racing heart, crying, feeling very very scared with no identifiable source.

I think we will be talking to his pediatrician about it ... but I kind of do not want him on another medication so I wanna go in armed with info if possible!

Do you have experience with this? How about your kids? Do you have a good place online to read about it?

700 club

Happy Mother's Day! See past MD posts here and here. I don't have anything new to say about it at this point. Maybe after tomorrow when I have had time to think about it. That makes it not very timely, I know.

We have decided for MD and FD this year we are going to go see REM and Moby in the next couple of months. Fewer things, more experiences. I am down with that! Someone warned us not to expect anything approaching the coolness of the U2 concert we saw in 2006. OK. But it will still be fun. And I am finally seeing REM ... 19 years after being jerked away from the civilized world before getting to see the Green tour. I did meet G in Alaska the same month my friends back in Pittsburgh were watching Stipe & co. singing "Stand," etc. on stage. So, you know, life makes up for things. And now I will see a much more, um, mature version of the band with a wider repertoire and I am thinking (having heard them on Fresh Air a few weeks ago) probably not so much heroin. Just a guess.

This is the 700th post on Watch Out for Mama! Do you think at some point I will find something better to do with my time?

I have been

• writing
• planting
• snuggling
• singing
• shopping
• listening
• planning

Life's pretty good.

I feel a list coming on

Sometimes you just have to let it all out. Here is more stuff I am liking lately. Remember, nobody pays me for this. It is straight from the heart, kids. Me and my love for weird, sometimes stupid stuff.

• Music downloads from Amazon. I told you I was all Amazonny. Now I am even more that way. Every week they have songs that are free, and they are cool. Like, this week, you can get Dolly Parton (I love Dolly, OK?) and Nick Lowe songs. Free. The album downloads are also pretty cheap and they do not have the crappy DRM or whatever encoding that iTunes and Rhapsody have, assuming we are all criminals. Therefore I have recently added the Breeders (yay), Carole King, Gnarls Barkley, the Juno soundtrack and some other fun things to my library.
• To go with that: Sony headphones that wrap around my ears. Mine are pink, not green. They were cheaper that way. These are good for me because I tend to swing my arms around wildly while on the treadmill. I have been known to send headphones flying.
  
• Close your ears, squeamish boys: Tampax Pearl tampons. These are theeee best. Cool, functional packaging plus design innovations to the actual product. They work better and are easier to use. I will not get all graphic on you. That is all.
• Two cute adoption movies: Juno. Martian Child. Get thee to thy Netflix queue and add. (That list item was worth it just for the fun experience of typing the word queue.)
• Spega yogurt. This is fancy Italian yogurt sold in adorable glass jars. I found it, of course, at the dollar store, two jars of cinnamon-ginger flavor for 99 cents. But I might pay more for it if I saw it elsewhere, because I am in love with the cute jars and I want to collect them. These are going to be recycled as little vases in my house. They look like short, chubby milk bottles. If I were a regular milk bottle, Z would be a Spega yogurt jar. (I previously mistakenly thought this yogurt was called Riga. I apparently had Latvia on the brain for some strange reason. Enjoy the spiffy Italian Web site and drool over the cute jars!)
  
• Raley's TableTalk. Great coupons every week. I don't do my regular shopping at Raley's. It is too expensive for me. But it is kind of between home and work, and I occasionally stop there for a jug of milk or a sandwich from their deli or something. With the coupons I can usually get something free along with it. This week: flowers. Free flowers! Heck yes!
• My favorite Facebook applications: (Lil) Green Patch and Pieces of Flair. Why do these things suck me in? Cute plants with cartoon baby faces. Cute buttony ways to show off photos and distribute clever sayings. I am just a sucker for this stuff, in spite of the inexplicable parentheses.
• Online TV. We are philosophically opposed to paying for cable or satellite, at least most of the time. Our antenna got broken a while ago. We do not really miss it at all, thanks to full episodes online. Now that nobody's striking, every weekend we have a little TV party (sing the Dead Milkmen song with me - yes, I have younger brothers) to catch up on The Office and Ugly Betty. On Mondays while I complete certain boring aspects of my job I can watch Extreme Makeover Home Edition or maybe a little Hell's Kitchen. (How's that for polar opposites of reality TV?) The only thing we sadly can't see that way is American Idol. However, my inability to access that favorite show is saving me an awful lot of time this year. I mean, it's on twice a week!

83

My oldest child weighs 83 freaking pounds as of this morning's medication check at the doctor's office.

No wonder the piggyback rides have been hurting.

Good news: He is still fine on his current dose of Adderall XR. No need for more speed at this point.

Before it is jam

It was just strawberry season, backbreaking pickers in the patches
Everything's burning down to ashes and down to the ground

- Indigo Girls

We keep eating all the strawberries before they become jam.

I aim, gentle readers, to introduce you vicariously to the glories of strawberries from Yang's Produce, a roadside stand conveniently located between my home and my workplace.

Some people around here call them Hmongberries, but one of the Hmong-speaking missionaries told us yesterday over our dining-room-table burrito bar that there actually is no word in Hmong for strawberry. I also have some questions about whether it is cool to call them Hmongberries. Although they definitely are special and they definitely are predominantly raised by Hmong farmers in this region.

You walk up to Yang's and the scent of the berries almost overwhelms you, especially if the weather's warm. They're displayed on an astroturf-covered counter attended by smiling teenagers. Down the line there are rutabagas, snap peas, yellow and green baby pattypan squash, Thai basil, purple spring onions. Boysenberries will arrive next month sometime. Then peaches later in the summer.

But the strawberries are the stars. You buy half a flat for $8.50. They are perfect, glossy and red with fresh green tops - picked today from the field just behind the stand.

If you can keep from eating one, unwashed, in the car, I admire you. If you can manage to save enough for this recipe you are very lucky. If you can save enough for jam, I would like to know your secret and may possibly pay for the privilege.

Strawberry Pie

Crust

1/2 c. cold butter
3/4 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp. salt
4-6 tablespoons ice water

Whisk together flour and salt in a large bowl. Cut in butter with a pastry cutter until lumps are the size of small peas. Add water and stir gently. Add more water, a tablespoon at a time, until dough can be gathered into a ball.

Roll flat and place in pie tin. Shape edge and prick all over with a fork. Bake at 410 for 8-10 minutes.

Filling

3 pts. strawberries, cut to make 4 c sliced berries and 1 c. berries for the blender (The blender is where you use your ugly berries if you don't buy them at Yang's)
1/2 c. water
1/2 c. sugar
3 tbsp. corn starch

Place sliced berries in baked pie crust.

Blend together 1 c. berries and water until smooth.

Whisk together sugar and corn starch in a medium saucepan. Add berry puree. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly with a whisk, until it thickens and boils. Boil and stir one minute.

Pour over berries in crust. Chill 2 hours before serving. With whipped cream, if you know what's good.

The missionaries thought this dessert rocked!

I am going to have to buy some more berries for jam, though.

Just this

You probably have pretty much no idea how crazy we are about this girl.

But since Sally tagged me, I will tell you 10 things about here that make me, personally, cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs about her.

1. She wakes up singing "Patty Cake" - no words, but perfect pitch and rhythm.
2. Her limited communication skills make it a fun (usually) guessing game to find out what she wants. When you get it right, she claps and smiles.
3. If I pick her up, she hugs me. Tight. Same favor for her daddy. She also willingly distributes kisses.
   
4. She likes me to lie beside her and let her pull my hair until she falls asleep at night.
5. She appreciates dark chocolate and snap peas.
6. She has The Cheeks.
7. She is so soft, all over. So much that her nickname is Squishy. When she was in a biting phase last summer it was Squishy Love With the Sharp Part.
   
8. One time she bit my argumentative brother-in-law's toe.
   
9. She is a good little listener for story time. And she folds her arms Sunbeam-style for prayers.
   
10. She loves the wind. When you take her outside in the wind she squints and smiles

I don't like calling people out. But if you want to do this about someone you love, well, consider yourself tagged!

Keeping up with the box

So I am quite enjoying the CSA. Every Tuesday we (my office mate and I) get a big box of yum and divide it up. The biggest difference I notice is greens. There's always a big bunch of chard, collard greens, spinach, or something dark and leafy that I don't usually think about buying at the grocery store. Great chopped up in pasta or soup, or just braised with some onions as a side veggie.

But between the CSA box and the flea market, I sometimes overbuy just a bit. It reminds me of when I was a newlywed in Utah, after several years in Alaska. I was so exuberant about the low prices of produce - and so unused to the quantities it took to feed a household of only two people - that I stuffed the fridge and had things go bad a couple weeks in a row. I learned.

Now I am just trying more consciously to use the veggies. It's one of the best ways I have found to stay satisfied while sticking with my Weight Watchers points. Almost all veggies are free in that regard! So, for example, I have a little Ziploc bag full of asparagus, bell peppers and radishes to eat with my lunch today.

And, for example, this salad, which I wanted to eat all night long and almost did. The color was divine. The flavor was amazing.

Who else loved it? Z. Cutest thing ever to watch her gnaw on a broccoli floret. My girl.

Asian-style Spring Broccoli Salad with Chicken

1 head broccoli, florets cut thin, stem julienned
1/4 head red cabbage, sliced thin
5-6 radishes, sliced thin
2 c. snap peas or snow peas, strings removed
1 yellow bell pepper, julienned
2 sweet carrots, sliced on the diagonal
2 tbsp. fresh cilantro, chopped

2 chicken breast halves, grilled or broiled, sliced
1/2 c. roasted peanuts (or cashews would also be excellent)

about 1/2 c of your favorite Asian-style sesame dressing, or whisk together:
1/4 c. vegetable oil
1 tbsp. dark sesame oil
1 tbsp. brown sugar
1 tbsp. soy sauce
1 inch ginger, peeled and minced or pressed through a garlic press
1 clove garlic
2 tbsp. rice vinegar

Stir it all together. I would say this would be about 6 servings if you were not using the "veggies are free, eat all you want" mentality.

If you are using that mentality ... 2 servings. Enjoy.

Hands on

Have I told you my S has the best teacher in the world this year?

He really does. She is the teacher from that story you may have heard told by Michael Wilcox - the one who finally sees the good in him and only the good - the one who remains unflappable in the face of his antics - the one who knows that teaching is not about testing, but about learning.

She knows they have to do the tests, so she designed an accommodation for my ADHD darling. He has an assistant sitting with him to make sure he fills in the bubbles correctly. She explained to him that she just wants to make sure the computer understands his answers, and she knows he will be able to answer all the questions correctly. Hallelujah for a teacher who knows that filling in bubbles is a giant obstacle for a bright boy with attention issues!

She is not in this picture. She took this picture. It's my S with a wildlife manager, putting a band on a baby owl.

They're also planting an organic garden.

Seriously! Could a third-grade teacher possibly be any cooler?

And can we move her up to fourth grade next year?

Presenting all six of us

I'm gonna try leaving these up for a while and see what happens.

What have I learned?

It is really, really hard to get six people looking good in a picture. But I still would rather do it myself than haul this circus train into Sears for a family portrait.

The birthday report

Lake. Steak. Cake. All with my dear dear Sally and her fam. Who could ask for anything more?

But there was more. Here it is, with links to make it fun for you:

• jewelry I gave myself made by Dana - the April Bracelet of the Month. Watch for it!
• jewelry I got from my in-laws - a jade-and-silver dragonfly and cool green pearl drop earrings. They know I love green
• a birthday card from the ward Relief Society
• Thai food with my co-workers
• an Obama birthday card from G (Headline: Baracky, with Obama in a "Rocky" victory pose - I LOVE IT!)
• the new R.E.M. CD from G and permission to buy the new Breeders CD if I can find it (we live in funny little town that does not seem to have a lot of Breeders fans - I will probably just download it from Amazon)
• an Amazon.com gift certificate (and you know I am all Amazonny) that I used to get a cute watch and a DVD
• lots of snuggling with Z
• watching The Martian Child with G. It had John Cusack and a happy adoption story - I'm a sucker for that
• a very loud burp from the solitary boy in my Primary class. It took the class about ten minutes to recover fully from their giggles after that
• new episodes of Ugly Betty and The Office to make me laugh
• new issues of Sunset and Everyday Food to make me drool
• Corn muffins from the aforementioned new issue of Everyday Food. ("Some chicken and a corn muffin well that feels more like love" - Paul Simon)
  

Really, it was awesome, and I don't mind at all being older than Jesus (I am now 34).

It's a Darfur day

Do your part today. Do more if you can.

I told you more was coming

K: Mom, can I have my canna-lope?
Me: We don't have any cantaloupe.
K: [holds up toy]
Me: Oh, that's a catapult.

Funny conversations

G: I'm not getting you anything for your birthday.
Me: That's ok.
G: You haven't told me anything you want, and time is running out. Am I supposed to read your mind?
Me: Go for it. There's nothing there.

---

K's teacher, calling roll: K----- F-----?
K: I'm not K----- F-----, I'm K----- S---!

(S--- being our last name, and no, it's not the bad "sh" word, although maybe it should be.)
(I guess maybe he does understand that he is about to be adopted!)

---

More to come, I'm quite sure.

One, two ...

Three, four. Thought you might need help there.

What's the significance of this series?

34 is the age I will be this Saturday! I am going to the temple in the morning with the stake Relief Society. Then in the afternoon/evening, Sally and her tribe are coming down to help me celebrate. She is even making me a cake! Any birthday where you don't make your own cake is a great birthday in my book!

The forecast is 81 degrees, partly cloudy. Could it possibly be lovelier?

I need help deciding what we should do!

1. Hassle-free: picnic in the park. Food by Port Of Subs. Kids playing. Adults chilling. No structure.

2. Harder but funner: Barbecue at the lake. Steaks for the bigs, dogs for the littles. Kids in the freakin' freezing water. Adults lounging on the grass, playing cards and gabbing.

3. Stressful but spectacular: Exploratorium in San Francisco. Leaving as soon as I get back from Fresno at noon. Lunch would be pb&j on the road. Dinner at In-n-Out. This would put me on the road for a total of 6 hours on my birthday, and that does somewhat suck. But the Exploratorium is mega cool and I have been dying to go with Sal and her kids.

What would you choose for your 34th birthday?

Speeding train

The TPR hearing for K this morning was successful. The biological mom did not show up and had not contacted her attorney or social worker. The judge proceeded in her absence. It went very quickly!

Back in January when everything looked so scary with Z's case, I was of course praying my guts out and had - I don't want to say a vision, that sounds a little grandiose - but a mental movie that I knew was associated with this situation. A train track curved through the countryside toward houses in the distance. The grass was green, and a white fence ran beside the track. On the track sat a rusted-out old 1940s pickup truck. Heavy. Ugly. Scary. Not moving, not movable. A passenger train (think the Blue Streak Express from Lois Lenski's "The Little Train") sped toward it. Impending doom! Then the train ran right through the truck as if it were not even there.

Four months later we are in the clear to adopt both our foster kids! How great to be a speeding train.

Lessons from Alaska

Dora at the Exponent Blog is in France. Jealous much? No, I'm just planning to use her experiences when I plan my trip!

She did ask for experiences from other cultures and places. I've never traveled outside the U.S., but I have spent quite a lot of time in one very unusual place.

Lessons from Alaska

For two weeks in September the world is on fire. Birches and cottonwoods blaze yellow. There's a feeling of imminent disaster. It's so beautiful.

Open your eyes.

Sometimes there's a big storm, and everybody is going to be late - they just are, and there's nothing anybody can do, so you might as well relax. And when the forces of nature are this strong, people are going to wear bunny boots to formal events.

You will be so much happier if you just learn to roll with it.

School will not be cancelled unless it is 60 below with ice fog. Go from your heated house to your heated garage, drive to your destination, plug in your car and run like heck before the insides of your nostrils freeze. Do not go out with a wet head. You may end up breaking off a haircicle. Dress for the weather.

Find ways to cope with the day-to-day realities of life.

In the dead of winter if you dare to venture outside, there is enchantment. The only colors of nature on the ground are black and white. The gangly youths among cottonwoods and birches bend under the weight of snow, forming archways over roads and paths. Stunted black spruce in the permafrost take on human characteristics, knobby and twisted and charming. Go out at noonday for a long creep of melded dawn and dusk with muted light in pink and lavender. Go out at midnight and lie down in the snow - ignore the cold - to watch the aurora borealis in green and purple and red, waves and lines of light tripping through a clear, starry, dark sky.

Sometimes it takes bravery and pain to find beautiful moments.

After it has been double digits below zero for five months or so, when the snow is so deep you have had to shovel the roof off to avoid collapse and pulling into your driveway is like driving into a roofless tunnel of ice and dirt, when you think you will die if you don't see the sun soon, when you haven't shaved your legs since September because why bother, then spring comes. Zero degrees is shorts weather. Mud is beautiful. Dandelions are reason to shout for joy.

After bitter, you taste sweet where you never noticed it before.

In the summer, pray you are a student or a teacher or a bum, because there is no time to waste working. Absorb every minute of light and warmth. Early morning is best for blueberry picking or working in your garden. You should pick up a sandwich at the trailer on the corner and eat it sitting at a cable-spool table. Ride your bike along Farmer's Loop in the afternoon. Eat on the patio, vegetables from the garden grown with sun that never stops. Go to the fair, or an outdoor concert, or a backyard party. At midnight, drop your canoe in the river and float as the sun skims the horizon, threatening to set but never having the heart to do it; it was gone for so long.

There is balance in the universe. If you felt forgotten for a while, wait. Bounty is coming.

To help me get more done?

Is anybody else feeling a little haunted by this General Conference quote?

Avoid any kind of substance abuse, mistakenly thinking that it will help you accomplish more.

-Elder Ballard

Anyway, the Diet Pepsi in the machine costs $1.25. I dug $1.15 out of my purse, mostly in dimes and nickels.

Guess I am not abusing today.

Feeling rich - help me choose

I finished the taxes. Nothing like the last minute for a nice little adrenaline rush. In reality I was done a few weeks ago, but I had to make some calls to get Tax IDs from childcare providers and stuff, and just didn't get all the pieces put together until tonight.

So we are going to be feeling kinda rich in a few weeks, methinks. One part of the plan is a nice, kidless vacation for G and me after he defends the mountain hydrology masterpiece of a dissertation sometime later this year.

We are going to have our 15th wedding anniversary this August and this trip will be a combined celebration of that along with the Ph.D. and (we think) the fam being complete. Lots to celebrate! Plus, our original honeymoon in 1993 comprised 3 days in Park City. Not to complain about that, but it is time to do it up right.

Here's what we want: Something warm, probably with a beach, quiet, romantic, not too touristy but with amenities - we don't want to feel like we're camping.


Here are the contenders:

• We went to Hawaii 12 years ago, to the Big Island and Oahu. Loved it, would totally go again. Might want to explore another island. Suggestions welcome.
• A long time ago when I worked at WordPerfect Magazine someone mentioned Ixtapa. I was interested. I'm still interested. Somewhere on the Mexican Riviera might be great.
• Somewhere Caribbean might also be fun, but I think it would cost us more since we are straight up West Coastin'.
• Possibly, for a wild card, some funky beach location in Southeast Asia, Australia, or New Zealand. Again, cost is a concern, but you know, maybe we could find a deal!

So where would you go with your husband?

The photo, by the way, is Playa Linda in Ixtapa. Looks nice, huh? Good dream fuel.

I am also squirreling away some money for my own dream vacation when I turn 35 next year. By then of course I will be totally fit and strong and hot stuff and fighting off Parisian men with my chic little umbrella. And I'm not talking about Paris, Idaho, although I love it there, too.

Heaven is in a cloud

of words.

Renewal

This weekend I went to Time Out for Women in Fresno.

Yep, I did. A whole weekend of full-on Deseret Bookness with cheese on top. I even paid for it, but not very much, because I was offered a generous pay-what-you-can "scholarship" for the event. (I guess there are some benefits to being married to a grad student, even when you do work full time and make a perfectly reasonable salary.)

Springing for stuff like this does not come naturally to me. It takes up my money and time. It sometimes feels a little priestcrafty. It sometimes grates on my inner snob.

But I am learning not to be proud of that last one. What's the use, after all? Maybe if I get disgusted enough with that snob she will finally beat it.

I think I managed to kick her out for the weekend. I really enjoyed the whole thing. Well, except for one whispery-sweet musical group. I don't wanna be mean, but everything doesn't have to be my style, does it?

It was so nice to go and just be fed - not chase kids, not distribute Cheerios, not sing in the choir, not remind a Primary class that we are talking about the Holy Ghost instead of the dead mouse you found at the lake. I really did come back with a renewed spirit and determination to do some things better.

Specifically, the Sabbath. Not that anyone really talked about that much, except a brief mention from Sharon G. Larsen about how she negotiated that in the early days of her marriage. It's just something I felt like I could work on and improve. And yesterday, we had such a sweet, peaceful day, just because I said no to Star Wars and video games. Simple, yes?

And G gave a talk in sacrament meeting, and I sang in the choir, and I walked the halls with Z. S and A talked in Primary, and G taught Elders' Quorum while his friends entertained Z in the classroom. I told my 7-year-olds about the time the Spirit told me to slow down to 55 mph in the Nevada desert and I coasted into the gas station in Fernley with literally nothing left in the tank.

When I was at Time Out, sitting in a darkened auditorium listening to dynamic speakers and contemporary-inspirational music, it felt a lot like the time I visited the local non-denominational megachurch with a woman whom we were helping our missionaries to teach. Not a bad experience. There was a good feeling there. It was focused on the Savior. I think the Spirit was present. But it would have been the same without me. It required nothing of me but my money.

I'm glad the Church is not Time Out for Women. When it seems hard, I will remember that.

Um, hi out there

Folks, my google analytics numbers are through the roof (I had a low roof), and it's all about that Oprah's Church post.

I want to say welcome to the folks who are new here and thanks for the respectful tone from the couple of new commenters who happen to disagree with some things I said. (My friends are allowed to disagree disrespectfully ... to a point!)

There are a couple of things I want to say, given the idea that more people than I thought may be reading that post - people who don't know me. Just wanna be clear.

1. In addition to several evangelical Christians who have scared me, I have known several who were kind and good examples of the faith. I don't want to paint with a broad brush when I shouldn't. I know there are good and bad "apples" in every denomination - certainly including my own, sadly enough.
2. If anybody shows up to tell me that I'm going to hell, please just don't. The comments so far have been passionate but respectful. Let's keep it that way.
3. If anybody's thinking about telling their neighbor they're going to hell for whatever thing they do (being Mormon like me, or watching Oprah, or whatever) please just don't. Your neighbor is likely to be a lot like me in that I tend to tune out that kind of warning and lose respect for the messenger.

Think SD

Do you love San Diego? I have food for you.

I got some freshwater bass from the local Rancho San Miguel Market, which is a distinctly Chicano store. It is the best fish I have bought in this town. Soooooo fresh and light and yummy. Considering its origins (well, its store anyway) I had to make it into tacos.

They make some amazing fresh corn tortillas at Rancho, as we have now affectionately termed the purple-and-orange grocery store with the brilliant yellow shopping bags.

Digression: Have I ever told you about the time I wanted a hot pink lining in the bolero my mom was making to cover the turquoise spaghetti-strap circle-skirt dress I'd bought on deep, deep discount ($5, ok?) for my senior ball? Mom said it would be "so Mexican." Well ... yeah, she was kinda right. I love the brazen colors under the California sun. In Alaska, I'll confess, it may not have seemed so fitting. But I did get the pink lining I wanted.

Back to the taco swoon, now. I also had radishes and avocados from the local flea market. So cheap, so divine. Thanks to Daravanh who turned me on to this, I am never buying produce anywhere else ever again.

Except for the CSA. I still like that, too. Without it I would probably never remember to buy chard. Mmmmm, chard. But that's a recipe for another day. This is the recipe for today.

Fish tacos my way

4 basa filets (freshwater bass, or you could substitute any light-textured, white fish)
salt
pepper
chili powder
2 tsp. vegetable oil

sliced radishes
sliced avocados
pico de gallo
sour cream or full-fat plain yogurt
cilantro

Corn tortillas

Season fish on both sides with salt, pepper and chili powder. Heat oil in skillet. Cook fish 2-3 min. on each side (I cook only 2 fillets at a time). Break into taco-size pieces with the spatula.

Warm tortillas in skillet (same one, different one - whatever makes you happy). Fill with fish and veggies and yummies.

Makes about 4 servings of 3-4 tacos each.

Oh my gosh. Just now while I was looking for a link to put in above, I discovered that Rancho is a Food4Less store. Shocking because the meat and fish I've gotten at F4L have never been satisfactory. What's the diff? How mysterious!

Peevish

Here are some things that bug!

• People who think they can do the work of a communications professional when their expertise is clearly elsewhere
• Falling rapidly through three layers of backup childcare givers who decline to be with my baby all day when I wish, only wish, I could do that myself (Their excuses? Emergency oral surgery, a sick baby, and ... a concert? OK, whatever!)
• This insane desire for peanut M&Ms when the office chocolate supplier is out of town and his usually-dependable candy jar is mournfully empty
• Uncertain future
• Not knowing where to start on my task list at 4 PM. What the crap can I do in an hour? Oh, I know. Blog.

Sorry if you thought you were my best friend

It's really this.

It shuts up the parts of my body that are whining so loud I can't hear my brain. I won't mention which parts because I know some people are uncomfortable with the word uterus.

Haha!

In other news, here is Z's vocabulary:

• Hi
• Hat
• Hot
• Daddy
• Baba (bottle)
• Mom
  

That's six words.

Here are the songs she sings, without lyrics but with near-perfect rhythm and pitch:

• "Z-- is a Baby" (this is a proprietary family composition; I'm pretty sure you don't know it)
• "High and Low" from the Little People airplane
  
• "Patty-cake, Patty-cake, Baker's Man"
  
• "The Eensy-Weensy Spider"

So she almost knows more songs than words. She walks around singing all the time.

Someday this girl will be a famous singer and I will be telling this story to reporters, or maybe an extremely aged Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul and Randy. (What's Randy's last name? I forgot. I don't have TV right now and have missed this whole season.)

Anyway, yet another evidence (along with the fondness for very dark chocolate) that she is my girl.

That "Oprah's Church" video

Have you gotten a link in your e-mail to that YouTube video about the new church of Oprah? I've seen it linked three times now from different sources. I'm not linking here. Honestly, you can find it on your own. I just can't bring myself to make a connection.

As some of you know, I enjoy the sound of my own voice, can't keep my mouth shut and think I know everything. And it's even worse when I'm typing instead of talking. So I had to respond when the video popped up on the Yahoo group that serves as a connector among local LDS moms here.

Here's what I said. I tried really hard to be nice.

I agree that Oprah mixes a lot of truth with misinformation about spiritual things. I don't watch the show. I think it's a time-waster and for me, not constructive.

However, she does a lot of good in the world, too, and I hate to see someone judged on a personal level when they are trying to look for truth the best way they can (and maximize their TV ratings because that's their job).

I am also really concerned about the widespread dissemination of that YouTube video among Latter-day Saints. I saw it from three different sources yesterday. The makers of the video clearly have a political agenda. Maybe you agree with that agenda, and of course that is fine. But make your decision about that without the far-fetched connections that are made at the end of the video.

I would be interested to see what the makers of that video have to say about the restored gospel and members of the Church. I have met many far-right Evangelicals who think we're as scary and Satanistic as Oprah. It makes me less inclined to get on their side and believe their propaganda.

Your thoughts? Oprah? Obama? YouTube? Evangelicals? Come on, get into it.

Early morning, April 4

Below are some YouTube slideshows set to Martin Luther King, Jr.'s last speech, the "Mountaintop" speech.

Just commemorating the anniversary of his assassination, tomorrow. Don't just listen to U2. (Although of course as a 30-something white girl, I still love U2!) Listen to Dr. King.

What is your mountaintop? Have you been? Are you going? If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, would you be able to say you have done enough?

I've Been To The MountainTop 2/2 (Dr. Martin Luther King )

I've Been To The MountainTop 1/2 (Dr. Martin Luther King)

Chills

"If Obama were in any sense mediocre, he would be forgotten by now. He is, in fact, a remarkable human being, not perfect but humanly stunning, like King was and like Mandela is. We look at him, as we looked at them, and are glad to be of our species. He is the change America has been trying desperately and for centuries to hide, ignore, kill. The change America must have if we are to convince the rest of the world that we care about people other than our (white) selves."

- Alice Walker

The whole article is here.

Kid prayers

So, K is almost 4 now. He makes sure to remind me of this at least once a day. Sometimes this means he's big (i.e., big enough to drive the car) and sometimes it means he's little (i.e., little enough to be wrapped up in a towel and carried like a baby after he gets out of the bathtub). It all depends on what he wants at the time.

This is also the age when I do completion-style prayers with the kids as they learn how to say their own prayers. Meaning, I start with "I'm thankful for" or "Please bless" and they say what they want to say.

Here's K's prayer from last night.

"I'm thankful for dinosaurs. I'm thankful for my class. I'm thankful for [unintelligible]. Please help me to kill all the spiders when I get big. Please help me to climb up a ladder with daddy.
Please help me to get my butt clean when I poop."

He's pretty much got all the bases covered, don't you think?

On another branch of the same topic, Z has learned to fold her arms and bow her head through the prayer. So dang cute!

Ding-dong, the witch is dead (no foolin')

They trailed the hearing again because the bio mother was not able to get permission to travel from her probation officer, and she does have a legal right to be present.

That is the only issue, though, and we are looking forward to a successful TPR on April 21!

In other news:

Instead of the scary mean social worker -- the one who told me that if I made waves I would never see Z again and never have another baby placed with me again and that when she moves kids she just gives them a toy and "they're fine" -- someone else was there, the social worker who taught our foster parent training class in Sept-Oct '06. We asked what she was doing and she said that the witchy SW quit - she was essentially forced out!

That made me almost as happy as a successful TPR! She will not be intimidating any more people or treating any more kids callously in that job, thank heavens!

I love you and that's no lie

Strawberry shortcake, huckleberry pie
I love you and that's no lie

Sundays are dessert days. A lot of times G makes one and I make one. So yesterday we had some really decadent Scharffen Berger brownies, and also this, because it is spring. It's a little premature, because our local strawberry stand is not yet open. That should be coming in a couple of weeks. But I just couldn't wait.

Strawberry shortcake

4 c sliced fresh strawberries
1/2 c granulated sugar

1 c all-purpose flour
1 c whole-wheat flour
1/2 c granulated sugar
3 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 c. chilled butter
2/3 c. milk
1 egg, lightly beaten
additional sugar for sprinkling - coarse baker's sugar would be great for this if you have it

1 c whipping cream
1/3 c granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Heat oven to 425 degrees.

Combine strawberries and sugar in a bowl. Set aside to macerate while you do the rest of this.

Combine dry ingredients with a wire whisk, or sift together if you like. Cut in butter with a pastry blender. (I have the Pampered Chef one now, and although I had high hopes for it, I will just say that I am still on the hunt for a pastry blender that will not bend when I am working with really cold butter.) When you are finished, the mixture should look like pea-sized crumbs. Add milk and gently blend just until there are no dry spots left.

Drop dough in 8 spoonfuls on a cookie sheet. Brush with egg and sprinkle with sugar. Bake about 15 minutes, until golden and crusty.

Meanwhile, beat cream, sugar and vanilla until stiff peaks form.

To serve, cut cakes in half. Place strawberries inside, like a sandwich. Close and top with more strawberries, and then cream.

(Why do you think I am failing to lose weight?)

Reminder: court tomorrow

Tomorrow morning we will be back in the county courthouse for a trailed hearing for termination of parental rights for our sweet little K.

His biological mother is contesting the TPR. It is ludicrous considering that if things had been properly done (instead of her placing him with gang/drug/prostitute friends) she would have lost him 2 years ago if not sooner. We need to hope and pray the judge is not feeling particularly compassionate toward her tomorrow. The compassion needs to be directed at a cute little boy who has made us his home and his family in the last 8 months.

Yep, today is our 8 month anniversary with K and our 16 month anniversary with Z. What a ride!

Please keep K in your thoughts and prayers today.

When they call you to teach Primary

I don't think they're anticipating that you will play play play all day on Saturday and then stay up until the wee hours making a giant paper doll missionary and pages for a book about Ammon and the arms (favorite scripture story of every video-game-loving boy) that the kids can illustrate.

I have too many ideas; that's my problem.

Good night!

Something to do

I dare you.

Go into a restaurant. A nice restaurant. It doesn't have to be expensive, but someplace where you have to be seated and order your food. And not a chain. Please.

Ask for a pleasant table. Or a seat at the window, that will do.

Order yourself a salad and an entree, and a drink if you like.

Eat by yourself. Think about your food. Watch people go by. You can wear headphones and listen to music, or read a book, if you want. But the main point of this is to be by yourself.

It's kind of scary. But its also kind of empowering.

Don't hurry. Don't be embarrassed. Don't apologize.

This is what I did tonight. I had roasted beet salad with orange vinaigrette, feta cheese and almonds, and peppery Spanish-style chicken canalone at Chez Shea in Half Moon Bay. Aside from some decidedly pink-not-red March tomatoes (chef: slice up some oranges, instead! It ain't summer yet!) it was quite perfect.

Then I went to watch the sunset at Poplar Beach. I walked a bit and the waves quickly erased any trace of me.

All by myself. I like it a lot.

Tomorrow: back to the crazy house. I like that, too.

I never breathe

One thing I do for my job is creating little announcements podcasts every week. Well, mostly every week. Today I got to make a PSA announcing an event to distribute to local radio. It was like a trip back in time, back to when I used to do the weather for K101 FM in Fairbanks.

The difference, of course, is that now it's digital. It is super easy to edit my voice. I use Audacity, which is a nice little open-source application that my brilliant intern from last year found.

So in order to get my PSAs down to 30 and 60 seconds, one of the things I did was to just delete all my breaths. Now I sound oh-so smooth, and everything is done in the properly required amount of time.

It occurs to me that it would be useful to have a similar application to use in my life.

Doesn't seem likely, though.

Good thing you know so much

Tonight's title reflects what I used to say to S when he fed me a line of little kid BS. He had a lot of it. Sometimes he still has some. But he also has a lot of accurate information.

S likes to read science books. My dad and mom send them by the box, culled from their own collection or found at Deseret Industries.

The cute thing is that he reads these big words but has never heard them pronounced. So he does the best he can. I remember when my brother M used to do the same thing. There was probably a time when I did it, too. We are a bookwormy family; what can I say?

Gems from S:

"Do you know what the Hawaiian Islands are made from? Obsdan. (Obsidian. -ed.) It comes in lots of colors."

"Maggots are baby flies. They eat whatever they are born on. Even your flesh."

Dumb Donald he ain't. Whatever it may look like.

Why pie

My Grandpa Irvine taught me how to dribble a ball and throw a Frisbee. He paid me a dollar to learn the "Books in the New Testament" song. He let me feed the baby goats with a bottle and eat all the strawberries I wanted, dusty and warm with sun, straight out of the patch.

He had a sailboat that was most excellent for all kinds of pretend games and a hill in the backyard made for rolling races. He cut a playhouse from a dishwasher box. He taught my sister how to pull her ears while sucking in a long piece of spaghetti, creating quite an amusing effect - even before the little girl's earlobes turned orange with marinara sauce.

He fed the neighborhood cats on his back deck, to the irritation of my grandma.

He served in a bishopric at the Utah State Penitentiary. A story: once at the prison, he left his meetings to find his car would not start. He prayed for help. The car started. He said this was the first time he experienced direct, unmistakable assistance as an answer to prayer. He was in his 60s. Yet there he was in a bishopric. (What did he survive on before that? That's what faith is, if you ever need a definition that does not involve a seed.)

When I was almost seventeen, Grandma and Grandpa visited us in Alaska for Christmas. It was one of those times where I was aware that everything was about to change. This Christmas and one more, I was thinking to myself, and then I will leave home and grow up. It was nearly the end of my life as I knew it. So I paid attention. The kitchen steamed with the combined cooking talents of Grandma and my mom. We sang carols. We rode over snowy roads to eat at the Old FE Mining Company, sitting on rough-hewn logs and drinking from jelly jars. The whole time, I thought to myself, "This time is precious. I have to remember this."

I was taking voice lessons that winter from a crazy lady with four dogs, two cats, six birds, a rabbit, and a live-in lesbian lover she described as merely the person who cared for the animals. She could identify all my vocal bad habits, but couldn't describe to me how to correct them. (Only years later when I took lessons from a voice teacher at BYU did I start to understand what she meant when she told me in her affected genteel accent that I was "impinging upon" myself.) And for some reason she was teaching me arias from Messiah.

I sang "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" for my grandparents. Grandpa's response didn't surprise me. He asked me to sing it at his funeral.

This used to drive me nuts about my maternal grandparents. They talked all the time about dying. It was morbid, weird and scary. Death was mostly an abstraction for me - I had lost great-grandparents I didn't know well, and I vaguely knew a couple of kids from school who had died in accidents or by suicide. But I had never lost someone very close to me. Thinking about it was alarming. I would have preferred not to. I didn't know why they kept bringing it up.

I did have some idea of manners and respect, and so I told my grandpa that I would sing "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" for him. I also told him I didn't expect to have to do it for many years.

It was three and a a half years later. I had married - young and happy. I was going to Girls' Camp on a June morning when I heard from my mom: Grandma and Grandpa were in a car accident. They hit a horse in Sardine Canyon. It landed on Grandpa's head.

I almost didn't go up to camp. I thought it might be time to brush up the song. But it wasn't. Grandpa survived that accident, which you would think would be something to be grateful for. If you have lived with someone with a severe head injury, you know it is more complicated than that. It was five more years before he left his body. During that time, it slowly changed, shrunk, lost abilities, decayed. One moment he was delusional and frightened and mean, and the next he was just sweet and slow and forgetful. It was a long, long, confusing goodbye. It was exhausting for Grandma, most of all.

When he died it was February 1999. The day it happened, my mom called in the morning. We had all expected it so long, I didn't know what to feel. I went to work and spent the day interviewing customers and writing profiles - the same work my grandpa did as a newspaper reporter his entire career, I realized on my drive home. Suddenly there was a giant hole somewhere in me, where the bond that tied me to him on earth had broken, and I wept with abandon.

He had written, profiles like the ones I was working on, news stories, editorials, humor columns that left people (ok, mainly my mom) shaking in silent, uncontrollable laughter. He had written letters - long, affectionate, typed epistles to his grandchildren, sometimes as a group and sometimes individually, before his decline began. When he died, I was working on an adoption application, the notorious 52 questions on the old LDS Social Services packet, dreaming of the long-awaited arrival of my first baby. I took my three days of funeral leave, thinking my mom would need my help. She didn't. And so the last thing he gave me was time to write, time to move the family forward, as I answered all those questions. I wrote some, and then I sang along with my Messiah CD, and I cried, and wondered how on earth I was going to hit that high G through my tears.

It turned out that I didn't, and it turned out to be all right. The real standout on the program at that funeral was "O Mi Padre," reflecting my grandpa's two Spanish-speaking missions - once in the Southwest as a young man, and once in Mexico City with Grandma in the mid-'80s - and his faith. The Spirit whispered to me that the words of the last verse of that song described Grandpa's true present state.

With the benefit of years and with the raw and humbled heart left by loss, I saw why my grandpa could speak of death in almost-cavalier fashion. He had no fear of it; it had no sting for him. He knew that his Redeemer lives. And though worms, in a way, did destroy his body, the grim advance of dementia and disability did not dim his belief. And the quality (or lack thereof) of my rendition of Handel's lens on Job's testimony was not so important as the way Grandpa told me that it was also his testimony. And I think it was more than my sense of growing up that whispered to me that winter in 1990, "Pay attention. Remember this."

I told my kids this story today over Grandpa's favorite dessert. Thus the photo and the rhyming title. Happy Easter.

Banana Cream Pie

Crust
1 1/2 c. flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cold butter
4-6 tbsp. cold water

Combine dry ingredients. Cut in butter with pastry cutter. Add water and toss lightly to combine. Start with 4 tbsp. and add more until the dough gathers into a ball. Roll out and place in pie tin. Prick with a fork. Bake at 410 degrees for 8-10 minutes, until very lightly browned. Remove and cool.

Filling
2 bananas

3/4 c. granulated sugar
2 tbsp. corn starch
2 c. whole milk
3 egg yolks, lightly beaten
2 tbsp. butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Slice 2 bananas into bottom of cooled crust.

Combine sugar and corn starch in medium saucepan. Gradually add milk. Cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until mixture thickens and boils. Boil and stir 1 minute. Add half of mixture into egg yolks and stir. Return egg mixture to pan. Bring to boil. Boil and stir 1 minute. Remove from heat. Stir in butter and vanilla. Pour into crust. Cover with waxed paper and refrigerate to set.

Topping
1/2 pt. heavy cream
1/3 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 banana
1 oz dark chocolate for garnish (optional)

Beat cream, sugar and vanilla until stiff peaks form.

Slice remaining banana and arrange all but 8 slices on top of pudding filling. Spread whipped cream over the top. Garnish with remaining banana slices and curls of dark chocolate made with a vegetable peeler.

Women's history alive

It's Women's History Month all over the blogs, and I thought I'd say a little piece about an amazing history-maker I was lucky enough to see last year when she spoke on our campus.

Five years ago Dolores Huerta wouldn't have meant that much to me. I was just another white girl living on the east bench of the Wasatch in Salt Lake City. Sure, I had a couple of African-American kids, so I had spent some time educating myself about Black cultural history and civil rights. I know there were Spanish-speaking immigrants in my community. But I was isolated from them. Other than my mom's mission in Ecuador, I didn't have much of a connection to any Latino culture. And I really had no idea who was picking my grapes.

Moving to California, especially the Central Valley where I live, changed that in a hurry. Within a few months I was working with a cadre of beautiful, strong Chicanas in Young Women - our new ward has joint auxiliaries with the Spanish Branch in our town. I learned about their challenges, their joyful days, their ambitions, their discomforts and their triumphs. Mostly, though, I learned to love them.

Then I got a Chicana for a daughter. Well, technically she is probably only about a quarter Mexican, I learned last week. (The other quarter that I thought was Mexican is actually Central Valley Portuguese.) But she has a Mexican surname and some rocking awesome Frida Kahlo eyebrows. And I embarked on a new phase of cultural education. I totally believe it's my responsibility as a transracial, transcultural adoptive parent to learn enough myself to provide my children with connections to their birth heritages. And so, I learn.

I was lucky enough to see Dolores Huerta speak last fall. She was powerful and moving and true. She ain't no well-behaved woman. But she has made history. She is not free from controversy. But she has affected change. And because I have gained just a little knowledge, her history does mean a great deal to me.

I hope you will take the time to read about Huerta. I intend for my daughter to know her story. It's not every day that we see an inspiring history-maker who lives among us.

(Well, right now it is, because Obama's on the news every day. But normally.)

One more viva!

New things in life

• New favorite pill: Augmentin. They look as if they were made for horses, but man do they work!
• New diagnosis: Possible asthma for Z. Poor pretty. She is going to be on Prelone for 5 days and we will see how she does.
• New feeling: Not stressed. I didn't know what a big weight I was carrying until it was lifted on Tuesday with Z's TPR.
• New goal: Bust the next big weight mark by April 1.
• New plan: Stay here for at least a year. We think.
• New surprise: Actually feeling grateful that it looks like we're not doing an interstate move this summer.
• New lease on old dream: Maybe a trip to Europe in a year. Therefore, a few ads on Watch Out for Mama to add to my penny jar.
• New movie we want to see: Horton Hears a Who. I'm always so relieved when my boys who think they're big - S (8) and A (6) - still want to do kid things.
• New love for old movie: Persuasion with Ciaran Hinds as Capt. Wentworth. Catch me as I faint ... (I know, he's almost the age of my dad. That is kind of creepy. I prefer to picture him as he appeared in 1995.)
• New project: Crocheted shopping bags. I'm gonna be greener, I am!

I enjoy having a girl

This print is in my dining room. I pretty much love it. Babies and chocolate, right? The two best things in the world?

It's right by Z's high chair. She loves it, too. She points at the babies and babbles. I respond with, "Babies and chocolate! Babies and chocolate!"

In the last two days, she has started with a new word of which I am very proud:

"Tot-tot!"

I have to give her a little bit of Scharffen Berger 82% cacao as a reward, and to make sure she gets the association.

She loves it. That's my girl.

Gratitude

This morning, some unabashedly mushy and probably horribly bad poetry. I am a little too close to it to tell for sure.

* * *

For emptiness, confusion, false starts, stones and the need to search,
For promptings, promises, proxies, signs, coincidences, reminders,
For strength, sight, comfort and endurance
For pain preceding empathy, for angels on an errand
For dreams, pigtails, speeding trains
For a daughter

Glory and praise be to Almighty God.

Court report

We were in court from 8 until 11 AM (and then I went to the doctor and got some antibiotics for my sinus infection).

K's case was trailed again because his bio mom's attorney has not yet spoken with her about the case. This guy is a loser with a capital L - our attorney says he gets $70k/year from the county to represent people in the CPS system and basically blows it off. Same attorney who represents S on Z's case and caused all our cases to be trailed LAST week. Apparently his policy is "do no work until the case has been trailed three times." So we go in again for K on April 1.

Z's case was much more productive.

The judge heard "change of circumstance" petitions from the bio dad and from the cousin. The bio dad's came first and it was basically heard on the basis that he is now in rehab instead of jail, and denied because his "change of circumstance" is not complete - he is not done with his program and ready to take Z.

Then the mom's attorney pulled this shenanagan saying that our attorney had a conflict because she briefly represented S when her older kids were detained in 2005. They never met on the case and she never appeared for S in court. Nevertheless she excused herself for the purposes of the TPR hearing so that the case could proceed. That was fine because we are not in a position to say anything about TPR anyway.

S tried to say that the county had not offered relative placement earlier in the process, which is the opposite of what is stated in their court reports - they investigated options and found no suitable relatives to take Z a year ago and then again in September when Z came back into care. So the judge terminated all parental rights and at that point our lawyer was back on the case since her supposed conflict was no longer a party. So Miss Z officially has birthparents now ... not parents. Yet.

After that the judge heard the petition from the cousin, which was nerve wracking because he really listened carefully and the cousin's attorney was starting to make up stuff about us (saying that our older two kids were also adopted from the foster care system - trying to make us out to be some kind of child collectors). The judge assured us that he was not considering any of that and our attorney explained that he was just listening so that nobody can say they were not heard and have basis for appeal. Anyway at the end of it all our attorney corrected the misstatements about us and the petition was denied.

We are still the county's recommendation for adoptive placement. As long as there are no appeals we should be able to get this wrapped up in a few months time. WOOHOO!

A big family can get a lot sick

So far this morning we have had the following diagnosed:

• 5 infected ears on 3 people
• 1 infected set of bronchii on one of the same 3
• potential pneumonia

Suspected ailments as yet undiagnosed:

• 2 sinus infections (me and G)
  
• 1 ear infection (G)

We are so ready to be not sick. When 6 people get a bug it settles in all kinds of awful ways.

Curses, trailed again

Tune in next Tuesday the 18th for some real news on both cases. I hope.

The same attorney who represents S? He also represents K's biological mom. Another S, so that's confusing. Anyway he is in a murder trial and didn't bother to find himself a sub. I hope he gets reamed. I am getting annoyed.

S (Z's bio mom) did show up today. Still pregnant, so what we heard Tuesday was not true.

Cousin's attorney is still deluding himself that he knows dependency law. Right. Our attorney, the county attorney, and the kids' attorneys ALL agree that we should be able to keep both kids - not just because it's morally right but because it is down in black and white in the 366.26 code. How nice that the law and the right thing coincide, huh?

I so hope this baby is born clean. I really really do.

In K's case, we got de facto parent status and prospective adoptive parent status before they trailed the TPR decision. So we are now in the same strong position for him as we are for Z. That's a very good thing.

I am not worried. I am just tired of waiting for this all to be resolved. And worried about taking yet another morning off work for court next week. And sick as a dog - cold sweats, sore throat, raw nose. Staying home in bed today in hopes of getting better before my mom and my sister and her husband arrive tomorrow.

Still fantasizing about G getting a job offer so I can blow off some key things. But the week is marching on with no word.

Funny how the dream job pales in comparison to the kids, though. It's all about perspective, isn't it?

News from the TPR hearing

They trailed the hearing again because ... this is so great ...

S (Z's biological mother) is down in San Diego giving birth, so that our county will not detain the baby immediately. At least that is what the county human services agency's attorney said. I sure hope for her sake and the baby's that this baby is not born testing positive for meth ... it is the saddest thing ever.

Her attorney also did not show up, because if she had any representation they would have done the hearing without her. So all of us sat there for 2 hours waiting for her attorney to show up, and he never did. Our attorney thinks he is going to get censured for that because it really is disrespectful of everyone else's time. I can kind of see why he did it, though.

The good news is they trailed the hearing only until Thursday morning. And we have to be there for K that day, anyway.

Also good news: the cousin hired an attorney and he is a doofus. He doesn't know this type of law at all and basically doesn't have a leg to stand on because of the orders we gained at the last hearing (designating us as de facto parents and prospective adoptive parents).

From everything we are hearing the county is still going to recommend us as the adoptive placement, even though the social workers on the case wanted the cousin. Their bosses and their attorney are telling them it legally has to be us.

We met the county attorney and he is totally on our side. He is hilarious and has a bad attitude that will serve us well! He has very little patience for all the stall tactics and b.s. people have tried to pull. He really believes Z needs permanency and she needs it now. That's a very good thing.

So things are not resolved today but only a couple more days and I think at that point the judge will not have the patience to trail this case again.

Wha-wa-wa-whine

I am sick. Z is sick. G is sick. S is sick.

Z's social worker is freaking me out. I got a copy of her report for next Tuesday's court hearing. It says the agency's recommendation for adoptive placement is "confidential." Our attorney confirmed this is not a good sign. It makes me want to throw up. Also to hide. I am trying to ignore this and shore up our defenses. This week we saw a family therapist in Modesto and secured her commitment to testify that moving Z at this point would create substantial risk for an attachment disorder.

I still feel like I am walking on eggshells at work. Whenever I take a day off, be it sick or vacation I feel worried. Things have changed. I just don't feel as comfortable as I used to. No one is rude or mean or harassing. But *I* know I have bitten off more than I can chew in the last year, and I am sure others do, too. It creates some pressure. And as my workplace grows, relationships are naturally less personal and casual. I miss that, and the new dynamic also creates more pressure for me.

I am tired of people saying to me, "I don't know how you do it." I don't know, either. Most of the time I feel like I don't do it, at least not well. I am just going to stop telling people I have four kids.

This pace is going to kill me.

I am getting all PMS bloated and crampy not to mention asthmatic, thanks to the amazing, beautiful valley in bloom. I have a new theory that if you catalogued all my whiny posts you would find them on a pretty reliable 29-day cycle.

Produce and productivity

If Austen were writing about my life today, maybe that would be a good title for her to use.

Anyway.

If we leave California, I am going to miss my friends and my job and the weather. And the beach. But I am really, really going to miss the produce.

I mentioned previously that I finally joined a CSA. I've gotten 2 weeks of boxes now. It is so cool. It brings me vegetables I don't normally buy, like chard (divine sauteed with cumin and cinnamon) and leeks and collard greens, and rapini (going to try it tonight alongside a mushroom omelet).

And then there was the old standby, broccoli. Something so hated by a member of the Bush family is right up there on my list of favorite things, just because of that fact.

Anyway, here was a nice little meal I put together last week using the CSA produce.

Pasta with leeks, greens and beans

1 box whole wheat spaghetti
1 lb mild Italian sausage
1 big leek, sliced and cleaned
1 bunch collard greens, stems removed, chopped and cleaned
1 can garbanzo beans, drained
1 can diced tomatoes
1 small jar marinated artichoke hearts, drained
1 tbsp dried basil
salt and pepper
parmesan cheese

Cook pasta while you do the rest of this.

In a large pot, cook the sausage. When it's mostly brown, add the leeks. Stir until they begin to turn transparent. Add the greens, beans, basil and tomatoes. Stir gently and cook on medium-low heat until the greens are wilted. Then stir in the pasta.

Just before serving, add the artichoke hearts. No need to stir; they might disintegrate. Also, lots of parmesan. Most pasta is a good excuse to eat lots of parmesan, and this is certainly no exception.

Have it with this:

Lemon roasted broccoli

1 large head broccoli, cut into long-stemmed florets
Juice and zest of one lemon
About 2 tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper

Toss it all together in a big bowl. Spread it in a single layer on a cookie sheet. Cook it at 400 degrees until you see a little brown on it. This is an amazing counterpoint to the rich, complicated pasta.

After I made this meal, I went out of town and G ate all the leftovers. I know I shouldn't be mad. I mean, I left him alone with 4 kids for 4 days. He deserves all the pasta he wants. Really, he is the best. And I got hecka good food while I was gone. But dang, I wanted some more.

I keep my promises

I told you this was going on the blog ... a nephew funny from this past weekend:

Ana: So, N, what's your favorite song?
N (age almost-5): Oh, I don't know ... pretty much "Lady Banana."
Ana: What?
M (N's mom): You know, "Lady Banana, children at your feet, wonder how you manage to make ends meet ..." ?

In the corner

Alternate title: When the nerds finally get comfy

Alternate alternate title: Calling John Hughes

My dear old friend Carrie, recently found on facebook, made my post for me today.

Mostly when you see photos from your past, they are photos that you took yourself or photos you have had in your possession for a while. So it's not particularly surprising.

This one, Carrie had. I hadn't seen myself this way in a long time. Eighteen years. In the corner outside the art room, eating lunch with my friends.

Notable features:

• pegged pants
• imitation Converse (they were actually Esprit; I got them at a deep-discount store called Gabriel's in West Virginia. I wonder if it is still there?)
  
• thrift-store plaid vest
• army-surplus backpack
• notebook containing manuscript of soap opera about Greek hotel magnates, written by me and two friends during our uber-boring World History class
• bad-attitude girlfriend
• skinny but cute guy friend trying to look hot

And lest you miss the vital element of the John Hughes movie that was my life in 1989, here is the boy I was falling for at the time:



We grew up and got married.

There's a lot more in the middle, but can't you see this as a movie starring Molly Ringwald?