That's it, she's brilliant

Baby Z waves bye-bye with her chubby little paw. She is only 7 months old!

Seriously, so smart!

Be still, my mommy heart!

Time for a cool change?

I substituted in Primary yesterday, in A's class. It was so fun. Mainly because of a darling little girl I really want A to grow up and marry.

This cutie is half white, half Mexican, and she has the exact same coloring as A -- gorgeous tan skin, sparkling light brown hair. The youngest of three children, she is funny and spunky in the extreme. She is always on the move and has the cutest little rubberface -- super expressive. Last fall at the ward picnic she came up behind A and shouted "BOO!" He jumped about 3 feet in the air.

Yesterday, she came up with a couple of real gems.

We were talking about Alma the Younger and what his dad could do when this great big boy who was essentially a grown-up was misbehaving.

She said, "My brother is sixteen, and he still has to put his nose on the wall!"

Then, later, when we were drawing pictures, she came up and whispered very confidentially, "Everyone in my family has their own deodorant. Even me."

So, is it time for me to get out of Young Women?

With a twist

Remember when every TV show and movie was advertised as having "a twist"? Yeah, I hated that. I tend to prefer a straight course. Plus if you know a twist is coming you can drive yourself nuts trying to figure out what is going to be.

But life is twisty lately. Here's the latest.

I talked with S (Z's bio mom) on the phone last night. She had a legit reason to call - there is all kinds of mixup about Z's birth certificate and SS card and basically to get either of those we need her shot record, and nobody will take photocopies. So I have to take her the real thing (don't worry, I will make a photocopy first so the doc's office can make a new record if needed).

Anyway, S said she is looking for a church. Before I knew what was coming out of my mouth I invited her to church with us, and she said okay. I think I am crazy for doing this in some ways (totally inviting her into our world) and yet I think it was the right thing to do. Plus it will save me from the misery of church without Z which was so sad last week.

This whole thing is going in a direction I never expected. It seems like I am becoming S's support system in some ways, and as much as it is not what I ever wanted to do I feel like it is the right thing for me to do. I feel like I am being swept away by it to some extent, yet not really scared or upset. It is so weird.

Ana learns again: It's not all about me and what I want. Bummer.

Brain unload

The blog is sort of becoming my pensieve. It's useful. I absolutely cannot keep all this stuff in m brain.

1. The boys need haircuts, super bad.
2. I need to get the alignment fixed on my van.
3. Also the stereo.
4. Need to reschedule appointment for childcare subsidy for Z.
5. Prepare Primary lesson for Sunday I'm subbing in A's class.
6. Prepare lesson for Cub Scout Day Camp next week. I can't believe I'm taking a day off work for this. Basically what it proves is that I cain't say no. Can I get an Oklahoma hello for that? G? Anyone?
7. G says he will freak out if I forget his aftershave and shaving cream at the grocery store this weekend. Remember this. G freaking out is not good. Sometimes I wonder if he has a Target phobia. I mean, really.
8. I need to see a dentist. It's been a while.
9. Have to schedule a home visit with the county social worker before the end of June.
10. Have to start the process to get permission to take Z to Alaska in August.
11. Have to figure out whether we are going to Arizona in July. Are we dumb? No, just wanna be supportive of yet another family wedding.
12. Must convince family members to space out their weddings. I am running extremely low on vacation time.
13. I need to start my not-gonna-sink plan of exercise and scripture study, because I think hard stuff is coming.

Now I'm gonna go start my list of things I have to do for my paying job today. It will be at least as long and intimidating. Joy!

Sharing the truth

That's right, I've just had a missionary experience.

I've e-mailed a Snopes link to my bishop's wife, e-mail forwarder extraordinaire.

Turns out they actually do still teach about the Holocaust in history classes in the UK. Somehow I suspected as much.

I do really appreciate it that there are people out there checking on all the wild rumors that circulate on the Internet. I just hope that certain people who do a lot of forwarding will feel the same way and not be offended that I didn't take them at their forwarded word. And that maybe next time they will make a little foray onto Snopes themselves before they press Send.

501 food

I just noticed that yesterday's dismal self-knockery was my 500th post on Watch Out for Mama. Hurray! Hurray!

In honor of post #501, here is something you would be just silly not to try.

Salmon and veggies en papillote

1 large salmon fillet
salt and pepper
several large, fresh basil leaves
olive oil

About 1 lb veggies of your choice -- try baby pattypan squash or baby carrots, or both

Tear off two large squares of aluminum foil. Drizzle a little bit of olive oil on each one and rub it all over.

Heat your grill to medium, creating an indirect heating area by leaving one burner off (or, if your grill has an upper rack, you can just use that).

Rinse the salmon and pat it dry. Salt and pepper. Wrap it up in basil leaves. They will stick right to the fish.

Place the fish on one square of foil, kind of on one side. Fold it over and then fold up the edges to create a little envelope.

Do the same thing with the veggies, seasoning them with salt and pepper before you fold up your envelope.

Put both envelopes on the grill. Turn halfway through cooking.

I will be really honest with you and say I did not time this recipe. It seems to be hard to overcook the fish this way because the moisture is sealed in the packet. 5-6 minutes on each side seems sufficient.

I worried about overcooking the squash, but they actually kept their shape and just acquired a kind of melt-in-your mouth buttery quality that was delicious.

I have also cooked this without the basil on the salmon, and just topped it with some fresh, homemade pesto once it came off the grill.

It's summer! Enjoy!

Belated day

Yesterday I was more or less too wrapped up in my own misery to be much good to anyone.

Can I do Father's Day over?

I did manage breakfast in bed (sort of) for G -- although he was already up and shaving by the time I got it done. Graciously, he got back in bed to eat his french toast and cantaloupe. And I did make a good dinner. And pie.

But I didn't even get a card or a letter done.

And I didn't call my dad.

What a loser!

Buttkicker

Church without Z about did me in. Tons of people our age were there visiting for Father's Day (our ward is normally mostly people my parents' age). Between all of their cute babies and all the family-oriented hymns for FD, it was hard, hard. I have not had a sacrament meeting that hard since before we had S when Mother's Day used to send me sobbing to the ladies' room. Today I wanted to leave after sacrament meeting, but G talked me into staying for Sunday school. Then I ran away and came home for a good cry all by myself!

It's funny because I was honestly okay with the visit all day yesterday, even though all day I kept thinking, "where's the baby?" We were up at Sally's all day and that helped distract me, I think. (You should see my cute red pedicure with daisies!) But then at night I had a hard time and at church today it was bad.

She will be back tonight ... it can't come soon enough for me!

Hat in the ring

Finally, a candidate I can support wholeheartedly.

Dr. G-to-be passed his qualifying exams today.

We officially have Ph.D. candidate in the house!

Flutter, flutter

Tomorrow I go into court for Z for the first time. I didn't even know I could ask to attend previous hearings. So this is all new.

It's an interim hearing, and we expect that they will order weekend visits. I sure hope they don't start this weekend. Can you imagine anything to ruin G's Father's Day any worse? He loves that baby girl so much. And I believe to my core that she needs a good, loving, stable daddy. It breaks my heart to think there's a chance she could be denied that in her life when he adores her so.

Back to the hearing: I am feeling like any word I say tomorrow could be the proverbial flap of a butterfly's wing. I'm gonna be praying extra hard tonight that I can choose my words correctly and not create any undesired implications.

Last night I had the unbidden thought that maybe the best way for us to have Z in our family permanently is to let the system work, let S have her chance, and be ready to get Z back if or when S can't make it work. A prompting? That, I have to figure out.

Any prayers, good energy, or whatever you've got to send my way would be most welcome. It is a strange feeling, being where I am right now.

A long overdue book post

Sometimes I think my book posts are like a five-year-old gossip magazine. I can't tell most people anything they don't already know. I really am late to a lot of parties.

Last night I finished the second book in Margaret Young and Darius Gray's Standing on the Promises series, "Bound for Canaan." This is a book that I meant to read forever. I read the first one as soon as it came out and gave copies away as gifts.

Specifically, I remember getting one for the family who scooped me up at church in Raleigh with a newly-placed, five-day-old baby A in my arms and found me places to stay within their ward for 11 whole days while I waited for interstate compact papers to clear. They had several adopted African American children. They were awesome and deserved a whole lot more than a book, but it was the best I could do.

And then, you know, I had two little kids and not a lot of reading got done for a very long time.

Not that I have more time now, but at least I can usually be reasonably sure that nothing really horrible is happening while I neglect the children -- nothing beyond too many videogames or a nine-hour Pink Panther marathon, that is.

Back to the matter at hand. Can you see why I am late to everything? No focus, I tell you.

This was a hard book, and a wonderful book. It documents the beginnings of the policy that prevented Black members of the LDS church from holding the priesthood, and how that affected individual lives of those members at that time.

It also resoundingly affirms those members' determined faith and provided a great deal of insight for me. By the end, I was all teary and at the same time trying to figure out how I can get another baby boy so I can name him after the absolutely amazing Elijah Abel. (Honestly, if I had as many children as I have cool names for them I would be in serious bad trouble!)

I'm trying to figure out when my kids will be ready for these books. I am so grateful to have them. I really hope they will help my boys understand the way they have helped me. The careful documentation gives them so much credibility, and I know my fact-focused S will really appreciate that someday. ("My stories have to be real," he said to me once.)

Thumbs up from the latecomer's corner.

Visiting daddy

I remember when I was at BYU, seeing little families having lunch or dinner together on campus. I assumed that usually it was mom and kiddos coming to see daddy mid-day. It was sweet.

Now I realize that it was probably the only chance to see daddy for families of grad students and young professors.

We did our first on-campus daddy visit last night. It is vastly more complicated when mommy also works on campus, of course. But worth it, I think.

I picked up the kids at 5 (Z) and 5:15 (S and A) and motored home to make some dinner. About 6:15, G called to see if we wanted to come up to campus and eat with him. Fortunately I was making a very lovely salad that turned out to pack well. So I put it all together, cut up some watermelon, packed crackers for the boys and formula for Z, and off we went. (Well, after I gave $6 to a guy who knocked on my door looking for money so he and his little daughter could stay in a motel. That was very weird and something that would never normally happen in my neighborhood. I really think the guy was honest, though. So sad.)

I felt a little trudgey as we drove onto campus -- after all, it is just going back to work for me. But the kids were excited, of course. And when we got out of the car the breeze was so lovely and the light so gorgeous, it seemed like a different place.

We sat on the very lush grass of the quad and ate. The boys rode a skateboard and ran an obstacle course around all the baby Chinese pistache trees and their supporting stakes. Z discovered she does not at all enjoy the feeling of grass between her toes. Ah, well, she'll learn.

We told the boys about when we were newlyweds at BYU and all the cheap and free things we used to do on or near campus -- International Cinema, riding our bikes around at night very fast and dangerously, Rock Canyon hikes, weekly (!) temple dates. I am amazed that we went every week. How lucky we were.

We talked about S's baptism coming up in August. We called Grandma and Grandpa in Utah and invited them. I think they might come -- how cool! We decided on brownies and lemon bars for refreshments. S is hoping he can be baptized in the river up at Briceburg. I hope it will be okayed, and I hope the river has enough water for it in this very dry year. I think it would rock!

It ended up being a pretty cool family-not-at-home-evening.

Here's the salad recipe.

Lemon-Basil Couscous Salad

2 c cooked whole wheat couscous
1 head cauliflower, cut up and steamed until tender (I used the pretty green kind)
1 yellow bell pepper
1 pint grape tomatoes
1 c cooked garbanzo beans (just open a can!)
1/4 c pine nuts
1/3 c good olive oil (seems like a lot but it makes a lot of servings so it's not so bad)
juice and zest from 1 large lemon
1 c fresh basil leaves, chopped

Just mix it all together. Easy cheesy, pretty, colorful, and makes a great picnic! I'm guessing this could serve 6 for a main course with some fruit on the side.

Pick of the litter

Litter meaning garbage ... just some random thoughts to spew before I get my Monday going:

• It's the week of G's qualifying exams. They are Friday. I expect not to see him much between now and then. How is the house going to stay clean? We are just going to have to be gone all the time, I think. Swimming pool, McDonald's, park, library ... what else can I do to keep the little messmakers away from the TV, the computer, the back yard and their own bedroom?
  
• Speaking of housekeeping, I worked my butt off all day Saturday and the house still looked the same. G came home and had it sparkling within an hour. How is it done? (Actually, I know. I spend a lot of time sorting and organizing. G confessed that he just puts things in piles, confident that I'll fix it later. Which I do. So I guess we complement each other.)
• Speaking of my detail cleaning work, A got a super cool birthday present from my parents. It is the Crayola washable paint sprayer. Really fun. The problem was that Sam liked the idea of painting the driveway so much that he thought he would continue the fun with some acrylic paints. Namely, the sparkly blue, peach and yellow paints from the tutu project. I scrubbed a long time on Saturday with a wire brush and got most of it off, but we still have a slightly sparkly driveway.
• I have six, count 'em, six, volunteer tomato plants! I am hoping they are yellow pears. Seems likely since that was the plant that was completely bonkers last year. Guess we'll see. And it's looking like the Roma plant is gonna be the big producer this year. She's doing great.
  
• Z is freaking cuter every day. She gets peek-a-boo now. Pulls the sheet down from her face and laughs and laughs. Also, she has six teeth!
• Just as S was exiting the bad-word-fascination phase, A seems to have entered it. To wit: "Mom did you know that sometimes bad words are in words? Like password?"
• It is such a gorgeous morning, and I had such a cute purse and comfy sandals, that I thought I would park in the faraway parking lot and walk up the hill to my office. This turned out to be not such a hot idea because of two things: (1) wrap dress, and (2) wind. Having to hold onto your skirt really dampens the carefree effect of the adorable red straw purse.

In fact

I am about to go over to the courthouse to turn in my application for de facto parent status for baby Z.

Basically all this does is give me the right to attend all hearings and speak in court. And get a lawyer. Which I think I can do without much cost because we have legal insurance. Woot for my benefits through my job! They are excellent!

It is supposed to be basically a given that this is granted, considering that we have had full-time care of Z for 6 months now. So that will mean I tell the judge that I believe the current reunification plan is not in Z's best interest, rather than just complaining to the social workers whose goal is reunification. And I can have an attorney look into what I believe are some irregularities in the case.

I'm hoping this can be granted before the next interim hearing on June 14. Supposedly they are going to start weekend visits for Z with bio mom S in her inpatient facility at that time. All kinds of crazy, ain't it? Babies in rehab.

I learned about the de facto parent option from the mom of one of A's friends. She is a social worker in the county just to the north of us -- coincidentally, the county where bio mom S's "rehab" facility. Interestingly, this social worker friend says it is not an actual rehab facility. The child and family services agency in that county won't even work with them. Interesting.

Anyway, I know this guarantees nothing about the outcome of the case. But it is a tremendous relief to me that there is an option for me to make my voice heard -- that I don't have to just stand by essentially as an employee of an agency whose goals for this case I don't agree with.

The downside: When I do pipe up in court, I know it is going to hurt S. A lot. I don't know how to frame it so that it will seem like anything but a betrayal to her. And that sucks. Because I do like her and hope for the best for her. But I think the reunification plan is premature. She has got to get out and prove her ability to live clean in the real world before I will believe she can do a good job mothering again.

Because, let's get real. We're talking about meth. We're talking about something like a 4-5% addiction recovery rate. Depending on who you ask and how long you expect them to stay clean, sure, that can go up. I've heard numbers as high as 50%. Still.

That is just not good enough for "my" baby.

[Okay, trolls and meanies, go to town. I'm feelin' mean. Bring it on.]

Enough with the sad

Here are some funnies.

After bedtime last night:
A: Mom, S said "F-you" to me!
S: That means "Fank you!"

Earlier today:
A: Daddy, why doesn't my friend H's daddy go to church?
G: Some people don't choose to go to church. When I was your age, my dad didn't go to church.
A: Maybe that's why he's so naughty!

(He is!)

Overflow

Today I so intended to focus on work and get back to normal as much as possible. I am just having a really hard time. And a lot of it is about stuff not related to my friend who passed away this week. Stuff that I was coping with okay before. It just seems like that has put so much sad into my emotional cup that everything else is spilling out.

Crying at work, never a good thing. Trying really hard to rein it in right now.

No rug

It's pulled out from under me today and I'm sort of flat on my back on a very hard floor.

I have a group of Internet friends. I know how nerdy this is; whatever. The thing is that we have known each other so long they are really just my friends now.

We lost one last night. She'd been depressed, hospitalized, released mistakenly before she took her life. She left three amazingly gorgeous, much-longed-for children and a very wonderful husband. It is so wrong, so wrong, so wrong.

I've met most of the girls G calls my "imaginary friends." Not this one; she lived in Australia. But I've walked with her through infertility and friendship and humor and sadness. She loved her family. She was so funny. She had the guts to shave her head for a good cause.

I sent her a little package when she was in the hospital. It seems so pathetic now, so ineffectual.

I didn't know, until now, I could mourn a friend I've never seen.

Group read

Our Young Women are reading the Book of Mormon together this summer. We are going to finish the whole thing before school starts.

Each girl (and each participating leader) got a new copy of the book, a journal, a cute little book bag, a red pencil and a chart to track her reading along with a letter from all the leaders challenging her to read the Book of Mormon beginning to end before school starts.

At the end of the summer we will have an outdoor testimony meeting out at the lake and share our experiences. But I don't really want to wait that long.

I am loving this so far. I'm a little behind (when is that ever not true for me?) but I am reading and finding new things to think about and feeling the Spirit more in my life. God has things to say to me and to give me, and all I have to do is just open the door a little tiny crack. I take one little step and I get these gigantic rewards. I am so grateful.

Anybody wanna join? It's not too late!

Rrrrrrrrrrrip!

I am going to get my eyebrows professionally waxed for the first time ever at 4:30 this afternoon.

I am honestly trying not to be such a low-maintenance girl anymore. I am finding that in my 30s I just can't get away with it as easily as I did. You know, before my 30s.

Wish me luck!

Birthday salad

Three things are necessary for a good potato salad: good potatoes cooked well, a collection of yummy savory ingredients, and a dressing to blend it all together.

I happen to like the version where the savories are celery and pickles and eggs and the dressing is mayonnaise. Sally does not. So I made her this one, instead.

The potato salad with no mayonnaise

12 - 16 medium red potatoes, washed, trimmed and quartered
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp chopped fresh sage leaves (just because it's what I happened to have, but you can use other herbs. I'm also of the opinion that garlic is great in a salad like this!)
salt and pepper

Toss together and roast at 350 degrees until beginning to brown, about 45-60 minutes. Cool.

1/4 c olive oil
1/4 c vinegar of your choice (we used unprocessed cider vinegar; it is soooooo good for you)
1/4 a small red onion, diced very fine
A handful of each of the following: bacon pieces, pine nuts, parmesan cheese, chopped pepperoncini

Mix it all together with the potatoes. The longer it sits, the yummier it gets. And I would say it places you at only the very lowest risk for salmonella -- also a big plus for hot summer days and picnics.

I am now thinking some artichoke hearts would have been divine in this salad. Maybe next time.

Sally's cake this year was a lemon pound cake from Everyday Food. Appropriate since Sally got me my subscription. I love, love, love that magazine. But I can't find the recipe on their site. It will have to wait until another time.

Enjoy your potato salad!

Six

Six years ago today he was born in a small county hospital while I strolled the beach nearby, on pins and needles waiting for news. In the afternoon the social worker brought us his footprint card.

Today he is such a happy, easygoing, fun, affectionate kid. It's amazing all these years have gone by. Time does fly when you're a blessed mama!

Happy birthday to my little sweet potato.

May your next year of life hold great wonder and growth.

Reasons for the rules

There was a time when I had only one hard-and-fast household rule. This rule was as follows:

1. You must wear at least underwear at the dinner table.

Those were the days of triage parenting. You who have toddlers and preschoolers at home right now know what I am talking about.

Today we have more rules. The interesting part to me is to consider that every rule is made because someone pushed a little too far, things went horribly wrong and we had to set a boundary there. For instance:

2. No sticks in the house or car.
3. Biking and scootering may not be done barefoot. And wear a gol-durn helmet.
4. After being tucked into bed, you get one last request. More than that earns a freak-out from Mom.
5. You may not go outside in socks unless you are also wearing shoes.
6. Close the #$&*! door!
7. No bugs in the house. Not even in a jar.
8. Stay out of the food coloring.
9. No scissors, Game Boys, or toy airplanes at church.
10. Bathing, complete with shampoo and scrubbing, must occur at least three times a week. An adult must supervise the use of any liquid soap products.
11. You may dig only in the specified dirt area. Not in the grass. Even if you are looking for ants.
12. Children must not use eBay.
13. No toys in the washing machine. Or the dryer.
14. The ability to ride a bicycle does not equate to total freedom. Stay in the neighborhood.
15. Almost 8 is still not old enough to drive.
16. Almost 6 is still not old enough to carry a baby across a tile floor.
17. You may not walk through a closed screen door, even if it is already ripped a little bit.
18. No spray paint, ever, ever, ever. Especially not on the new landscape boulder in the neighbor's yard.
19. A power drill is not an earth moving tool. (Wah! My beloved drill!)
20. All is forgiven any time you use these words:
a. Good morning
b. Thank you
c. Okay, Mom
d. I hope you had a good day, Mom
e. I love you

Some guys

• Orlando Bloom: much more attractive as a dirty pirate than as a blond elf. With a big old scar on him, even better. Surprising myself by liking him more after seeing Pirates 3. Hope I didn't give anything away there for those who haven't seen it yet.
  
• Johnny Depp: at his hottest in Chocolat, but funniest in Pirates, of course. (Although I think Jack's alcoholism is getting the better of everyone, including the writers, at this point.)
  
• Hugh Laurie: knighted last week, and I forgot he was in Sense and Sensibility! I had to watch it again. He was, of course, brilliant.
  
• Ari Hest: have I mentioned my new music crush? Some people might be getting sick of me telling them to listen to Ari Hest. But really, you should listen to some Ari Hest.
• G: still a way better housekeeper than I am, and hotter than all these guys put together. Too bad for all you other ladies.
  

Body miraculous

There's a great conversation about body image over at FMH. In a comment I wrote that I think I am not very well connected to my body. I live in my brain a lot. I don't think that's particularly good.

I don't usually notice, for example, whether eating too much fat, sugar and salt really makes me feel bad. When people say they feel bloated and uncomfortable, I don't really know what that means. I think I do have a pretty stalwart digestive system -- otherwise I wouldn't be able to ignore my poor choices. I'm sure that's a blessing I am taking for granted, though I do try to make healthful choices most of the time.

Failing to exercise doesn't generally bother me. Sometimes it does guilt-wise, but as far as just how my body feels, I really don't notice much difference. Frankly it is a miracle I am not much, much chubbier than I already am.

I am supremely uncoordinated. Can't dance to save my life. You really do not want me on your team for anything where you are supposed to connect with a ball, puck, net, goal, whatever. I am pretty klutzy in general. Yet I have never had a broken bone -- I think I just have a solid frame. Another blessing I take far too much for granted.

I am a poor swimmer mainly because my breathing is uncoordinated. I tend to choke easily. I have a very mild asthma which is no fun, but manageable. When I got that diagnosis I was told I actually have undersized bronchial tubes. Interesting, huh? I wonder if those mini-pipes contribute to my soprano voice.

Anyway, related to my klutziness and general absent-mindedness, yesterday I thought I would make some granola while I was working at home. I am trying to use up the last of a huge bag of organic rolled oats I bought a couple of years ago, and I happened to have some almonds and pepitas I wanted to mix in with them for a crunchy treat to go on top of my yogurt. Granola takes a long time to bake and I thought it would be a good way to multitask.

The short version of the story is, I grabbed a hot pan for no reason at all. I burned my thumb and first two fingers on my left hand. I heard the skin sizzle and immediately chided myself for being so stupid.

The thing is, it wasn't exactly stupidity. It was disconnectedness. My brain was someplace away from what I was physically doing. Not to get all new-agey on you or anything, but if I had really been present in that moment, it wouldn't have happened.

I spent the entire afternoon icing my fingers, in between changing diarrhea diapers on a teething baby, picking up kids from daycare, making dinner, nursing a skinned elbow on A, and picking up after little slobs. There was so much I couldn't do. I didn't clean up the kitchen -- couldn't bear the thought of warm water at all. I took a lot of ibuprofen and aspirin, alternating; I was hurting quite a bit. It certainly made me appreciate my normal state of having two healthy and functional hands.

(G, by the way, is up in Yosemite until tonight. So no helper for me. The kids try, but let's be real. Love them madly though I may, help from them is a hindrance. Won't G be thrilled to come home and see the kitchen!?)

Most miraculous, though, when I woke up this morning, the pain was gone. I mean gone, gone. It doesn't hurt at all anymore. Overnight my body did a tremendous amount of healing. Yesterday I hurt. Today I don't. Yesterday I was temporarily disabled. Today I can do everything. Well, except for swimming and playing soccer and all the things I normally can't really do anyway because I am klutzy and whatever. That is an amazing thing.

I wonder what would help me be more connected to my body. Maybe yoga. Maybe more than six hours of sleep. What do you think?

Salad for nothin', chicken for free

When we were up in Angels Camp with my parents last weekend, my mom told me she hardly grocery shops anymore unless someone forces her.

"I can pretty much always find something to eat," she said.

This was amusing to me, because my memory includes long stretches of her being out grocery shopping. I swear it used to take her three hours to get the shopping done each week. I never understood this until I became a mom and realized exactly how blissful it can be to wander the aisles all by yourself. Even now that I am not at home full time, I regularly take an extra hour or so to peruse the clearance shelves at Target. I find the best stuff there!

Anyway, coming back around to my original point, I think I have inherited my mom's gift for being able to make a meal out of nothing. This is a good gift to have. We came home from our trip Tuesday night and although the fridge looked pretty empty, I have not yet had to go shopping.

Here's what I made for lunch today, out of bits and pieces of different stuff I found in the corners of the fridge and cupboards. Don't gross out; I didn't use anything rotten. The chicken was fresh.

Chinese Chicken Salad From Thin Air

Whatever lettuce you have left in the fridge (I had maybe 1/2 cup)
1 stalk celery, sliced on the diagonal
1 carrot, sliced on the diagonal
About 1/2 c raw broccoli florets
About 1/4 c chopped almonds
About 1 tsp pickled ginger shreds
About 1 tsp chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 of a cooked chicken breast
2 tbsp Soy Vay sesame dressing

Toss it all together. It's a lovely magical lunch for one.

(By the way, a kid from our ward just stopped by to tell us he got his mission call to Tokyo! Super cool! It gave me chills!)

Golden weekend

Just pics to show you some of the fun we had.


Sam and Abe at Calaveras Big Trees State Park


One of them thar big trees


Princess Chub, adequately disguised, I think


The goofiest darn miner you ever saw at the Columbia Museum


Sam and Grandpa do some spatial-type brain work in the blacksmith's shop

It was hard to come home.

Spicy slow-cooked pork with mae ploy

I still have a big old tub of mae ploy red curry paste. Before it completely rots, I am experimenting with it a bit.

Just kidding. I don't think it can rot. It is pretty spicy.

Anyway yesterday I made this and it was yum, yum, yummy. With a slow cooked pork roast you pretty much can't go wrong.

Spicy slow-cooked pork with red curry paste (mae ploy)

1 pork loin roast, about 2 pounds, brined (check Costco for these at a great price)
2 tbsp mae ploy red curry paste
1/2 c raisins
3 c steamed vegetables
6 c steamed jasmine rice

Rinse pork loin roast and pat dry. Rub curry paste into outside of roast. Marinate overnight in the fridge if you have time. If not, just plop it in the Crock Pot. Cook on low for 8 hours. Shred with two forks and return to juices in pot along with raisins. Stir.

Layer in a nice big bowl: rice, veggies, and shredded pork and raisins. Garnish with cilantro if desired. Maybe some yogurt would also be good. It makes about 6 hearty servings.

If you want fewer carbs and calories, reverse the proportions of the veggies and rice. The pork loin roast is actually quite lean, so this is a pretty healthful dish. Not to mention tasty. The curry paste and raisins are really deep flavors, which is great for crock pot cooking -- it is often too bland for me. Not this stuff.

I am about to go eat some leftovers right now.

Commencing today

We graduated 71 bachelors and 4 masters today at our baby hotshot university under sunny skies on the quad. It was gorgeous. I am so sentimental; I got all teary-eyed. Leaving are many of the students who came in as junior-level transfers when we opened in 2005 -- kids I have gotten to know pretty well -- my intern, the student body president and others. Now I am going to have to meet a whole new group of students to go to when I need stuff. Bummer for me. But I am so excited for these smart, hardworking young people.

Imagine what an emotional spectacle I am going to be in a year when G gets his Ph.D. (No pressure, G. HAHA ...)

G and I were talking with my vice chancellor at the reception afterward. He said, "You're not going to get a faculty position somewhere else and take Ana away, are you?"

I said, "That depends on how good my position is!"

He seemed ... open to considering. It was all very informal and jovial. But ... hm. Maybe it's time to get serious about getting myself reclassified (that is university system speak for promoted).

At the same time, I really do think if they get a good media or communications professor in this summer I might think about getting a graduate degree myself.

On a day like today, anything seems possible.

P.S.: I added some lists on the right sidebar so you can see stuff I am nerding on lately as far as music, books and food. Honestly, what else is there?

Cheechako kids go north

I did it! We are going to Alaska in August! Thanks to some creative booking and help from G's dad's frequent flier miles, we will get 4 people from Sacramento to Fairbanks for just under $1900. That is really, really cheap. And if we take Z on our laps it will be 5 people for that amount!

I am so excited for my boys to see Alaska, which is where their daddy grew up and where I met him. All the stuff I said before ... plus biking on Farmer's Loop, hiking at Granite Tors, playing at Alaskaland, ice cream at Hot Licks, sandwiches at Bun on the Run (please still be there, Bun on the Run ...), fireweed and bluebells, foxes on Chena Ridge -- so many fun things.

G reminded me that we will be there for our 14th wedding anniversary on August 6. We were also there for our 1st anniversary in 1994. We went picnicking and swimming (!!!) at the Chatanika River. So gorgeous. I think of it every time we are up at Briceburg near where we live now to play and swim in the river.

(S originally thought we were saying Price Burger when we headed up there the first time. He was so disappointed that there were no french fries! He was only 5 then ... so long ago!)

By the way, I have no idea how you really spell cheechako, but that is the Alaska slur for a lower-48er. Someone unwise to the ways of the frozen north. Not that August will really initiate the kids, but it's a start. And I'm certainly not planning to expose them to 60-below with ice fog anytime soon.

In other news, I took Z for portraits at Sears today with her biological mom and older half-sister. We got some darn cute ones. And that indignant scream-squawk-squeal in the video below ... might make ME start doing drugs if she keeps it up. It was cute at first, but OH ... my gosh.

That was way scary

So, we are trying to work out this plan to go to Alaska in August for the wedding of G's baby sister. If you have ever tried to do this, you know it is the very darn best best time of year to go there, and thus the flights are crowded and expensive.

We figured we would be okay to brave that by pulling some frequent flier miles from my in-laws' Alaska Airlines account to pay for two of the tickets.

Well, those Alaska Airlines people really scared me.

They told G's dad that if we were going to pay for flights with frequent flier miles, we would have to leave Sacramento at 7 PM (which would mean leaving our town well before 4 PM and braving nasty traffic on the scary state highway headed north), get to Anchorage at 1 AM, stay in a hotel, and leave for Fairbanks in the morning.

Then, coming home, we would have to leave Fairbanks at 1 AM, fly to Seattle, stay there all day, then come home late late late at night.

All this with at least two little kids, possibly also a baby -- who knows whether we will be able to take Z with us? And school starts the day after we get home. Can you see why my head hurts?

Not to mention, they told him they were going to charge him in the neighborhood of $400 to transfer his frequent flier miles to our account.

Anyway, there's a happy ending.

We found out that if you use the miles to reduce the price of each ticket instead of paying for a whole ticket with miles, you can essentially get on any flight you darn well please.

So we are getting our ideal itinerary for about 70% of the price, instead of a godawful nightmare of an itinerary for 50% of the price. I'll take that.

They can also just spend the miles out of his account instead of making him pay to transfer them. Why do you think they told me that, and not him? I suspect it's because I'm super sweet on the phone. You should have heard my Relief Society voice. It was awesome.

I suspect the in-laws may still chip in a bit, especially since I am saving them 400 buckaroos with my syrupy lovely phone voice. That would be nice. But even if they didn't, I am really excited for this trip.

Better days

So I used to be in the club where you bawl through sacrament meeting on Mother's Day -- occasionally running out of the chapel to sob in the bathroom -- and then gripe about it later. You know, the IHMD (I Hate Mother's Day) Club. It overlaps with the BIW (Bitter Infertile Woman) Club, to which I still sometimes subscribe occasionally.

Here is what helped:

1. A bishop who kept his eyes on me throughout sacrament meeting with a really compassionate, concerned look. This might seem weird. It was not weird. It was really nice. (Sally, it was Bishop W. Wasn't he the bestest!?)
2. People acknowledging that the day sucks for a lot of people, and mentioning some situations specifically, including mine (infertility).
3. Um, adopting kids. Just being really honest here. It's true what they say about adopting not taking away all the pain of infertility. But it does pretty much take away the pain of being excluded from the Mom Club.
4. Focusing on my own mom, who is wonderful (lucky me, I know).
5. Giving myself permission to ditch church on Mother's Day, then realizing that I didn't really want to ditch church. Helps to remember why you're there.
6. Learning to be gracious about accepting a tribute to all women on Mother's Day.
7. Realizing that motherhood is way, way bigger than me and my personal pain. See post below.

Here is what would still help:

1. Talks that focus more on doctrine, symbolism, appreciation ... anything but lectures from men about how to be a better mother.
2. Laying off the emphasis on pregnancy, birth and nursing. Again, just being really honest here. That's a club I'm still not in. And I can't see how it's the biggest defining experience of motherhood. It's maybe 2 years of experience for most people, compared with a lifetime of nurturing, teaching and so on that makes up the rest of motherhood.
   
3. Keeping the GA quotes about motherhood to the last 5 years. Come on, there's plenty. We don't have to go back to teachings that have been softened or even contradicted by current and official doctrine (meaning in this case, recent teachings from the Conference pulpit).
4. More, more, more about the inherent power of righteous women. More about the good women can do in the name of Christ both inside and outside the home. This is the kind of positive encouragement I need and love.

Finally, here is what I loved yesterday:

1. Breakfast in bed, albeit served on the dusty tray that usually holds DVDs that we need to put back in their cases. Gotta love it.
2. Handmade cards and gifts from little boys who are finally old enough to be unselfish on a special day.
   
3. A talk from a young man in our ward who gave the example of when Sariah murmured, then pointed out that she was concerned about the safety of her children and remained a faithful and righteous woman. He was awfully young to have thought of this on his own, and I suspect his mom's assistance. Good for her, because I have always worried about Sariah getting a bad rap.
4. My kids singing.
5. Young men singing.
6. Singing with the young women.
7. A gift from the bishopric that wasn't messy, fattening, or prone to wilt or die.
8. Attending Relief Society along with our Young Women and hearing a few of them pay tribute to their wonderful moms (and hearing some very funny stuff from a mom of grown kids -- e.g. the story about her daughter crying about getting a sewing machine for Christmas, so upset that the parents actually switched the gift for a shotgun, which made said daughter much happier. Quote: "So when things get really bad and we have to go back to Missouri, make sure you're traveling with B!")
9. A really long, luxurious nap.
10. A really sweet letter from G, who has learned at last that I don't need fancy presents, I just need to know that I am thought of and cared for. Really, if you can make any woman in the world feel that on Mother's Day, she will have a darn good day.
    

Mother's Day Revisited

I am so lazy and spoiled this Mother's Day that I am just resurrecting last year's Mother's Day post ...

Happy Mothers' Day

My apostrophe placement is intentional! Happy day to all the mothers.

Happy day to the moms exhausted from yesterday's beach escapades (SalGal and me), to the moms who have been up with sick kids all night, to the moms who are sick themselves. To the moms who take joy in their motherly calling. To the moms who think they stink at mothering and sometimes wonder if their kids would be better off without them. Happy day to the perfect moms, wherever you are, and to the moms who sometimes yell and sometimes spank and sometimes run away and drive around for hours. Happy day to the moms who are dying to leave the house, and to the moms who just wish they could be home. Happy day to the moms who won't go home from Mutual or Enrichment until after 9 p.m., because they just can't face the battle of putting their kids to bed yet again. Happy day to the moms who love to read aloud, to the moms who do PTA, to the moms who let their kids cook with them, and to the moms who hate and despise any or all of those mom-ly activities.

Happy day to the moms of missionaries and members of the armed forces. Happy day to the moms whose children are grown and gone. Happy day to the moms who can't get the darn kids out of the house. Happy day to the grandmas, God bless them forever.

Happy day to the moms whose children are only dreams, who have waited and prayed and administered shots and been let down over and over. Happy day to the moms whose dreams have finally come true and to the moms who are almost ready to give up dreaming.

Happy day to the moms who never planned to be moms so young, so poor or so alone. Happy day to the moms courageous enough to place their babies in other families where they will find stability. Happy day to the moms who will choose to parent their children themselves, anyway.

Happy day to the aunties, the doctors and nurses, the Primary teachers, the daycare providers, the schoolteachers, the dear neighbors and friends without whom the work of mothering would be nearly impossible, at least for me.

Happy day, if it's possible, to the moms whose children have died, who know they will never be the same again and have to live with that loss every day. And to the moms whose children are struggling enough that they sometimes wonder if losing them completely might be easier.

Happy Mothers' Day to all the mothers. Motherhood is not just the most important job in the world; it's a calling from God. Motherhood is more than an occupation; it's part of who you are, and that is true for any woman in any circumstance. Motherhood transcends what you do each day, whether that is changing diapers or changing this world. "Mother" is one half of the title of the goddess who exemplifies what you will become. May your Mothers' Day reflect the other half of that title -- the Heavenly.

A stuff list

I just have to do these lists every once in a while to get it out of my system. Be patient with me. (Boy, I go through a slow spot for a while and then all my blogging energy just comes spewing forth ...)

Here's what's cool in my world lately.

• Jack FM. Today I have heard Aerosmith, the Pet Shop Boys, Bruce Springsteen, New Order, Concrete Blonde and Journey. It's possible I will get sick of this station. But it seems unlikely. It's also hilarious that they make a big deal about not taking requests and this whole bad attitude thing. Very fun. Play me some good old Elvis Costello and I'm yours forever, Jack. But you know, only if you want to.
  
• Pound Plus dark Belgian chocolate from Trader Joe's. I bought it on Sunday. But I was traveling, and I was buying dinner anyway, and I don't get to TJ's that often. Trader Joe's, are you listening? We need you in my town. Get in while the getting is good!
• Jarlsberg cheese for $3.50/pound at Costco. I used this to make a delectable quiche for my girlfriends in Park City last weekend. I swear it made all the difference in the world. It was dang good, if I do say so.
• While we are on the subject of Costco, let's talk about those ginormous bags of pine nuts. The price is really incredible -- I can't remember exactly how much they cost but I am sure it was between $10 and $12. And you sprinkle some on your grilled chicken or veggies, maybe along with some Parmesan cheese and/or capers, and suddenly it is all oh so gourmet.
  
• The new pomegranate smoothie at Jamba Juice. Yummy, yummy, cool and smooth. It is so hot here already. Jamba is my favorite summertime lunch.
• The disposable baby spoons now made by The First Years. Seriously, such a good idea, and so much cheaper than buying new regular baby spoons, since I cannot find the once I used for the boys to save my life. And also, those were all stained with sweet potatoes and stuff.
• Family Web sites at myfamily.com. We are having a blast with this in our family! And we're using their beta version, so it's free, at least for the moment. You should so do it!

Shoot for the moon

You may recall that I have a chart system for behavior for my boys. They get a star for each daily task they are supposed to accomplish (getting up on time, cleaning their bedroom, a good report from school) and more stars for showing positive character attributes like being positive, being a peacemaker, and so on. For every five stars, they get a poker chip "token." They can also earn more tokens by helping around the house.

We have been doing the system for a little more than a year now. It was kind of petering out.

Then I restocked the treasure box. Oh, did I forget to tell you? The boys can use their tokens to purchase things from my treasure box. Mostly I have put little things in there -- stickers, gum, coloring books.

Yesterday I put in two DVDs and a Gameboy Advance game.

Suddenly the behavior is exemplary and all kinds of chores are getting done. This morning S cleaned the bathroom and folded a whole load of laundry.

This is something I have known for a long time and should have applied earlier. When we expect great things from our kids they will very often rise to our expectations.

Especially if it involves a Scooby Doo Gameboy game.

Little boy birthday blues ... what would you do?

So I thought it would be so cool to get A a bike for his birthday, which is May 30. I found a great deal on one on Amazon and ordered it.

Well, they are dorks and sent it in its regular box and he saw it.

Now he is all sad because

1. He wants the bike right now
2. Everybody else in the family already has a bike and they didn't have to get it for their birthday to get it (make sense?)

I cannot afford to give him the bike for no reason and still buy him a different birthday present.

I could send the bike back, try to get a bike from Freecycle, and find him a different birthday present. I have no idea what else to get him, though. He is turning 6.

What would you do?

Summer goals

Here are some things I want to do this summer.

• Cook with fresh, local veggies and fruits. A lot. This is such an easy goal it is almost criminal. This week already we have eaten purple artichokes, baby pattypan squash, and charred corn/peppers/tomatoes. Have I mentioned I love California?
• Update my Web site workbaby with a search feature and video clips.
• Go to the beach at least once a month.
• Work in my garden at least once a week.
• Go to G's sister's wedding in Alaska in August. I think it really might happen! Alaska in August ... wild blueberries ... state fair ... the midnight sun ... Last time G and I went to our hometown it was July 2000. S was 11 months old. So much has changed, and it has been so long! We didn't think there was any way we'd be doing this trip, but a wedding gives us good motivation. I am excited!

What are your summer goals?

You know they do this for attention

And it's working.

Or, I guess, maybe it gets really cold. You know, when you're skiing in Park City. A couple of people I was with were sorely tempted to buy this as a gift for their husbands.

What stopped them, you ask?

The possibility (probability in my case) that said husbands would actually wear it.

Endless amusement, I tell you.

A project

Wherein you may buy cute, fun and/or interesting artsy stuff and help a prospective adoptive family and also AIDS orphans in Ethiopia.

I don't know these people ... just happened on the Etsy shop, where I got the print you see on the right for a couple of special moms for Mother's Day. I'm not telling who, in case they're reading! But isn't it just darling and sweet?

That lucky family, with such a talented and supportive sister!

Go check it all out!

A heart too large

When I was 18, I had a very devoted long-distance boyfriend, and I had a missionary I was in love with. They were not the same person. I was confused and lonely.*

A wise male friend told me that I would know when I saw them both again.

"The one who makes your heart too large is the one you love," he said. (He was right, and I married the missionary.)

Now it seems like my heart gets too large all the time.

Last night S insisted on reading from the Book of Mormon. He read 12 whole verses in 3 Nephi 15. He read about other sheep not of this fold, and one fold and one shepherd.

Abe had to get in on the fun by reading (sort of) one verse.

Watch out for my heart busting out of my chest.

*I was also living in cramped quarters at a fish processing plant in Dillingham, Alaska. Since my roommate's boyfriend was my sexual-harasser boss, my friend C and I moved out of that room into quarters with two very sweet and respectful Catholic boys. The move caused some scandal. Just goes to show, you can't judge by appearances. It was a much healthier environment than the supposedly-four-girl room where pervert boss was actually staying. Just an interesting story unrelated to the subject of this post.

A no-cook weekend

I guess it was maybe a little belated birthday gift to myself. But I didn't cook all weekend. Well, okay, so I made some muffins and some strawberry shortcake. But I didn't cook dinner all weekend.

I bought some tamales Friday afternoon from the lady in the Food4Less parking lot. Yeah, baby. 6 chicken, 6 pork, all for $11. Ate them with a big salad and good old ranch dressing on the side. So delicious. And for the record, I used to be scared that I would get sick if I bought tamales in the parking lot. But I do it all the time now and I have never gotten sick from them. Neither has G. We love the tamale lady.

We bought pad thai at Asian Fest on campus Saturday. One $5 serving was enough for G and me for a light dinner. It was pretty darn good, although they only gave me one tiny lime slice and no cilantro. More lime! More cilantro! The kids had grilled cheese at home. Their pickiness is really so tragic.

Sunday we had whole wheat and brown sugar muffins for breakfast, leftovers for lunch and dinner, and a whole lot of strawberry shortcake.

All in all, a delicious weekend with not a lot of kitchen work. Which is good since it was like 95 degrees outside and I just will not turn on the air conditioner in April. That is ridiculous.

Here are the muffins:

Whole wheat and brown sugar muffins

1 egg
1/3 c oil
1 c whole milk
1 tsp vanilla

1 c whole wheat flour
1 c all purpose flour
1/2 c brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Prepare muffin tins for 12 medium sized muffins.

Combine wet ingredients until thoroughly mixed. Whisk together dry ingredients in a separate bowl. Stir together with the wet ingredients until barely combined.

Fill muffin tins. Bake 20-25 minutes. Serve warm with butter and honey. I like hard boiled eggs on the side.

Book lust

Well, nobody gave me a big ol' stack of books for my birthday. What were you all thinking?

Okay, I am kidding, but I just picked up the UC Press catalog from the breakroom at work and I am in total book lust.

Here are the ones I'm yearning for most:

• Ending Slavery
• Opting Out?
• Tearing Down the Gates
• An Intimate Affair
• Dude, You're a Fag
• Promises I Can Keep

Problem 1: That is probably approaching $200 worth of books right there. But we can overcome that. Hello, library.

Problem 2: With all this interesting nonfiction, how am I going to keep up with my novels?

Ahem, since it's my special day

And I am officially 33, aka "old as Jesus" ...

Please let me know you were here by leaving a comment. Maybe you could tell me what you think about the new categories! It is going to take me a while to get all the posts categorized, but I think it's kind of cool that you will eventually be able to pull up every recipe I've ever posted, everything I've ever written about G, and so on.

So c'mon, it's my party. Leave me a note.

(This picture is from 2 years ago, by the way, and I did not do the background editing myself ...)

More randomness

I am far too lazy to assemble a real post. Pick your favorite topic below and talk amongst yourselves.

• G e-mailed me the following: "Did you know that Kim Deal was recruited to the Pixies from an add for a bassist who likes Husker Du and Peter, Paul, and Mary? Just thought you'd like to know that." So do you think most Pixies fans also enjoy Husker Du and PP&M? I know I do.
• The second graders came to campus today for a field trip. Highlights: A Nintendo in the dorm and a wild baby bunny on the lawn. I had to get back to work before they toured the library. G joined them instead. I hope they learn more about research. (I am connecting the dots here and appreciating a cohesive teaching plan!)
• Next week in YW we are making books for Mother's Day. If you are my mom, stop reading, you might be getting one of these and I would hate to ruin your surprise. So the books will have quotes, coupons, and "thought" pages where the girls can fill in the blanks for things like "I will always remember when we ___________" or "When I am a mom, I hope I can ___________ just like you." So the girls are mostly coming up with all the material, but do you have any good quotes or poems about mothering that I can include?
• I am so happy I chose not to wear any eye makeup today. It means I can scratch my allergy-plagued eyes as needed. It's insane out there! Everything is popping!
  
• G is defending his orals on May 21, officially. The kids and I are going to skedaddle up to Angel's Camp on the 19th to get out of his way -- good timing with the condo, Dad! I need to figure out how to make his life as easy as possible until then. Maybe I can hire a maid. Because seriously, I think his share of the housework is taking up an awful lot of his study time and I don't know how I can do more than I am doing. On the road to Dr. S ...
• My number one hitmaker for this blog is now officially the vegetarian alfredo recipe I posted when I had a surfeit of tofu. In fact, it is #2 when you google "vegetarian alfredo." OK, that's exciting! Welcome, veggie friends! I am only part time veggie but I do love me some tofu!
  

The making of a nerd

Let me preface this whole story by saying I have no problem with any of it. In fact, I'm quite proud. We all know that nerdy is the new hot. Or hawt, just choose your preferred spelling. So I think we are doing an excellent job of encouraging that.

S's second-grade class has been learning about how to find information. Something about that has caught fire in his little brain.

Last night he asked if he could have an encyclopedia for his birthday. This is the first time he has requested something not related to computers or video games since he asked for Legos when he turned five.

When he was supposed to be in bed, I happened by and saw him pulling books off the bookshelf, one by one, to take to bed with him. He must have chosen twenty or thirty. He looked up at me and said:

"I love research."

The child of a Ph.D. to be and a university staffer, to be sure. And all kinds of nerdy.

On the side: Ginger and red pepper roasted carrots

Gotta make up for my blog laziness over the last week.

Here's a fun little side dish. Yesterday we had it with grilled chicken, cilantro pesto and rolls. Num.

Ginger and red pepper roasted carrots
7-8 whole carrots, cut in sticks about 1/2 inch thick
1 inch fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1 tbsp vegetable oil
pinch red pepper flakes
salt

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Toss carrots with oil, ginger, pepper flakes and salt. Spread in 9x13" pan in single layer. Roast 30-45 minutes or until softened and beginning to brown.

Just some randomness

• It is really too cold to wear a dress with no stockings. But I shaved yesterday, and darned if I'm not going to get some mileage out of it. I am dressed like it's July. We might hit 90 degrees by the end of this week. Then I will have to shave and wear a dress again. It's the only way to go in the heat.
  
• Three cheers for a husband who cleaned the bathrooms for me on Friday. That allowed me time Saturday to do some chores that sorely needed doing, but never get done normally -- cleaning out my closet and washing the outsides of the kitchen cabinets. It's amazing how much housework is like triage for me.
• I also gave in to the planting urge on Saturday. I put in tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers and a pumpkin plant. Also a geranium and some ivy in a big pot, some herb seeds, and marigolds and petunias. All this in two hours between getting home from OSH (5 PM) and the start of a nice, big rainstorm. Speed gardening! I'm pleased, though; the rain should give all those baby green things a really good start. I just have to watch out for slugs and snails (YUCK!)
• Yesterday A and I were invited into the teenagers' Sunday School class as part of a lesson about becoming as a little child. A is really a great example of what Christ was talking about when he said this -- so affectionate and obedient and eager to please. As a bonus, I think A learned something. He was telling G later about how Jesus wants the teenagers to be like little children. S said, "Why didn't he tell them to be like ME?" G and I stifled our guffaws, barely.

That's all ...

When you're weary, feeling small

It's one of those weight of the world days.

I am continuing upset over Virginia Tech. I have no personal right to this, no personal loss involved, no personal connection to anyone there. But I work at a university campus, vulnerable. My kids are in school classrooms, vulnerable. And nobody can prevent somebody from going crazy. It's overwhelming.

I read some very disturbing, racist comments by the governor of Colorado about illegal immigration that have added to the pit of sick in my stomach over the last couple of days.

And this morning I had to say no to a foster placement. A two year old girl with HIV needs a home, just until Sunday. It would involve lots of driving (down to the children's hospital about an hour away) and training. And I just can't do all that right now. If she were here in town I would be lobbying to take care of her, since it's just for a few days. But there is not enough of me for this, not right now. And it breaks my heart.

Do you ever wish Jesus would just hurry up and come back and fix all this crap?

Family dance party

Last night the boys were antsy while I was putting in some late work. S was grounded from TV and the computer for using a bad word (a continuing problem lately, but I am hopeful we can get it under control.)

I decided to give them something to move to and put on some old DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince and Run DMC. Oh, it was fun. They are the cutest dancers. Tricky, tricky, tricky!

Even funnier is that they dance like boys ... they bop around for a while, run into each other, wrestle for a minute, dance again, and then one decides to kick the other in the booty and then they wrestle again.

We followed the old school stuff with a very solemn rendition of the "Imperial Death March" from The Empire Strikes Back. S rapidly found a black cloak and a Darth Vader Mask. A decided he would be the Jedi, hide behind the couch and then attack.

Then to get calmed down for bed, well, "Puff, the Magic Dragon," of course.

We are definitely still loving Rhapsody.

Sparksperiment

I keep trying to get my butt back over to sparkpeople.com to track my eating and exercise. It is a really cool tool. And today when I moseyed over there I found an even cooler thing.

You can enter your own recipes and get automatically calculated nutrition information at sparkrecipes.com.

So go check out this one, Chicken Alfredo, which I put in today.

Fat-free cream cheese is an amazingly yummy, easy cheat for creamy, cheesy recipes.

Yummy, easy, creamy, cheesy ... it's just poetic, isn't it?

The best AI recap

In case you were craving American Idol chatter, the very best recap is by my friend Denise at Aiming High.

Honestly, I don't even need to write about AI anymore because she says everything I am thinking.

Also I am totally slammed at work, so bye!

Update on Z-dawg, as G calls her

My superfriend V asked for an update on the baby. I thought I'd share it with everybody.

Z is doing awesome; she is just chubby and good natured and funny. She "sings" when there is music and laughs when you pretend to munch on her big Buddha belly. In the last week she has found her left thumb and loves to suck on it with her two little fingers up over her nose. Cutest thing ever! She has stick-straight hair that sticks up all over now except in the back there is still a chunk of long newborn hair that looks like a little duck tail. At the doctor on Friday she weighed 16 lbs 11 oz. My little chunker!

As for S (biological mom) she is still doing well. On Friday she came to the doctor's appointment. The rehab center let her bring a van and another patient who is doing well, and come without supervision. She also brought her 3yo daughter who looks a lot like Z and is ultra cute. S and I agree that the main difference is that Z just looks more Mexican (which she is). We think it is in the eyebrows. Z has very dark, thick eyebrows!

There is a supervised visit at the agency on Thursday. This will be the first time I meet the new social worker, who is a "reunification" social worker.

My gut feeling as to what will happen is that when they re-evaluate the case in court in a couple of months, Z will probably be placed with S for a while in the rehab center. And then when S gets out it is anybody's guess as to what will happen. I think if she can keep it together she could be a good mommy. There is stuff she does that I would not do; for instance, she was really pushy trying to get her 3yo daughter to hold and kiss Z. 3yo barely knows S (she was removed from her 2 years ago) let alone this new baby who is supposedly her sister. That was a little uncomfortable.

S has experienced a lot of loss and gotten herself in the clutches of some bad, bad stuff. She does not have a good support system. Her chances, honestly, are slim. And if she screws up, then Z will come back to us, to stay.

By the way, haters ... if you're still out there ... this is not baby gimmies or vulturish behavior. It's just the very sad reality when meth addicts have babies. And yes, I may benefit from it.

You be me for a while

Come live in my bargain-shopping world. Just for a minute. C'mon, it's really fun.

(Hint: if you are a Coldwater Creek customer already, wait for the 50% off everything e-mail and you can get this entire ensemble for not much more than $100, including $50 for the shoes from eBay.)

Wear this:



And this (the one I actually have is a more usual jean-jacket style that is gone now, but this one is adorable and I am sorely tempted to add another jean jacket to my collection):

And these (slightly different from my tan Born wedge slides today, but when you buy on eBay you take what you can get. And these are way cute):



Carry this:


Congratulations! You are ready to drive with the windows down, buy strawberries at Yang's produce stand on the way home from work, and go to a play with your husband tonight.

I love, love, love April in California!

Women in my history, part two: teachers, leaders, mentors

I could tell you I purposefully saved this post for April just to show you that I think one month for women's history is insufficient. However, that would be a big fat lie. I have been both busy and bored, if that's possible. Anyway, what better way to overcome a little blogger's block than to gush about some cool women in my life?

My last women in my history post gave you the rundown on the mothers, grandmothers, sisters and daughter who have contributed to my life. Now I want to tell you about some women with whom I share no blood connection. I've run into some fairly famous women in my life -- but those connections have never been major for me. So as tempting as it might be to tell you about brief run-ins with Lavina Fielding Anderson or Susan Evans McCloud (neither of whom, I'm pretty sure, could distinguish me from Mother Eve in a lineup except by the fact that I am the one with the short hair who is not wearing a coat of skins) I'm going to tell you about some teachers, some leaders, some friends.

When I was in first grade, a series of events led my mother to pull me from the Ogden public schools and send me to Tree of Life Montessori School. This venerable institution -- maybe ten or twelve students total in a little, old, green house -- was run by Vera Eccles and taught by Deanna Olson. Deanna was the teacher I had been longing to love since I read "Ramona the Pest" a couple of years earlier. Young and pretty and positive, she was easy to idolize. Under their care, I spent my days in the early childhood room, self-directing to my heart's content. I learned the musical "Really Rosie" and played with clay. I read, a lot. This was utterly empowering -- my gifts and my style of learning were not just okay here, but great. The way I had been treated in the public school classroom was not acceptable. Only a few times since then have I had to stand up for myself against people who have not treated me right. But I have never had a problem doing that. Interestingly, if I remember this correctly, Mrs. Eccles had started the school as a way to stand up for one of her children who had struggled in the public school system. Learning was founded on respect at Tree of Life, although it was never presented in a boring "values" lesson. It was in the fabric of the place. Mrs. Eccles and Deanna were responsible for that.

Of course I had many other sweet teachers and learned plenty all the way through school. Primary, too. But we're going to fast forward to an influential church leader: Nancy, who was the Young Women president in our ward when I was a 12-14-year-old in Pittsburgh. I am in awe of what she gave to our little group. The time she spent. The hoagie sales and sleepovers and road trips (to the temple in D.C, to Palmyra and Kirtland, and to Lake Erie, just for fun) and weekly activities. The Sunday lessons. The drama we created with her as the calm eye of our hormonal hurricane. I don't know how she managed this. She had her own family and her own business, a thriving day care in her very lovely home. But I think I know why she did it. She loved the Lord and she loved His daughters. I am not as good as she was at managing it all. But now that I work in Young Women I feel the same love.

Around the same time, the art teacher in my middle school, whose name was something akin to Mr. Rear-end, sat on a table and broke it with his considerable weight. He also broke his tail bone. He had to stay flat on his back for something like six months. I'm not even kidding. At least that was the way the story went around the middle school. And we had the most wonderful long-term substitute ever. I'm sure I was not her very most promising student, and I don't really know why she invited me to the gallery opening of her then-current show. Maybe she invited everybody. But I think I was the only student there. I can't say this changed my life forever -- I didn't become an artist or even a particularly great connoisseur of art. But attending her opening made me feel incredibly special, grown-up and sophisticated, and I treasured the postcard invitation for many years. This teacher's name was Mary Culbertson-Stark. She just went by Mrs. Stark in school, and until right this evening I forgot the first part of her hyphenated name. A great flash of memory allowed a successful Google and a link for you. Looking at the work displayed there, I can see her work has changed a lot in the last 20 years, which is what I would expect and hope for anyone I like and respect ... but here is what I see as consistent: a really strong feminine presence, a little bit of whimsy, and a deeper undercurrent of questioning and searching. How cool to recognize a former teacher that way.

No list of influential women in my life would be complete without my high school English teacher. Sure, I had a few, but only one was The English Teacher, Oh Mighty Mama, Ms. Susan Stitham. She taught a course for sophomores called Analysis of Literature, and she taught AP English and Senior Seminar for seniors. I took all three. This woman talked incredibly fast, even when I'd just come to Alaska from the East. Was it a remnant of her own Eastern upbringing, or did she just have an incredibly large amount of stuff to say? Both. From her I learned the basics of the three-point essay, literary theory (and multiple theories), multiculturalism and the canon, grammar, vocabulary, journaling, managing big assignments. Honestly, I coasted halfway through an English major at BYU based on what I learned from her. Senior Seminar was titled "Ethics and Epidemics." We learned about the bubonic plague, the Irish potato famine and HIV/AIDS. (Odd and sad to remember how in the fall of 1991 we still believed a cure might be available within 5 years.) Lesbian herself, she subtly steered me to some gay literature -- May Sarton, to be specific -- knowing before I did that my brother was gay. She confronted some other Mormon kids and almost-Mormon kids about their faith. Never me. I don't know why. When I was engaged a year after completing her AP class, she asked the mom of one of my best friends if she couldn't talk some sense into me. I was mad about that. (Not mad anymore, after almost 14 years of marriage.) I heard when I was editor of a magazine later, that magazine was to be found in her classroom. Not sure whether that's true. Regardless, Ms. Stitham deserves credit as the mother of my intellectual life. If you are lucky enough to be in Fairbanks in the summer, you can take a Shakespeare class from her this year. (I also just learned she got an award from the BYU Alumni Association. Wow, the things you can learn on Google!)

I didn't really have a female mentor through college. One of my big regrets is not taking courses from some of the wonderful female professors at BYU while I was there, and not taking advantage of office hours and really developing those mentoring possibilities the way I could have. I thought I was too busy because I had to work and go to school. When I look at that time now, I realize I didn't even know what busy was. Anyway.

After college I worked for WordPerfect Magazine. Initially I felt a little out of it -- the other editors were much cooler than I -- stylish and organized, and they didn't live in Wymount Terrace! But when everything fell apart at that company, I was the one they chose to stay. I still can't say whether it was because I had gotten the two newsletters on schedule over the course of a couple of months, or because I was working for extremely cheap. Whatever the reason, the publisher, Edie Rockwood (who was also a CES Know Your Religion speaker, and whose story of sudden widowhood is still in one of the current Young Women manuals) took a chance on me, and it paid off -- for me, at least. I don't know if anything could have saved the magazine at that point. But the responsibilities I suddenly had have been the foundation for the rest of my career -- organizing, negotiating, supervising, planning and even learning the very basics of graphic design and the print process. Edie let me do my thing. She didn't supervise me a lot. No one did. For some reason I was trusted. It worked for me; I learned. Edie was a tiny, redheaded powerhouse and also a consummate lady. After her husband died while her children were still small, she muscled her way through school and created this great career in publishing -- in Orem! She's not too Googlable. I don't know where she landed. When the company finally dissolved, I asked what she would do next. All I remember is someone assuring me that she would be just fine.

It's interesting that the non-family influential women in my life have mostly been teachers. I didn't know a lot of women in other professions as I was growing up, and those I did know were just not in my life that much because, well, I was just a kid. I had many great teachers whom I haven't mentioned -- choir and drama teachers, notably, since I spent so much time. I had a crazy voice teacher in Alaska whom I'll have to write about another time. But really, I think it's impossible to overvalue what teachers can do.

I also think I'm going to have to do another post about girlfriends. This is just getting way long.

Quote of the day

I have to write this down before I forget:

"I think I could sing 'Folsom Prison Blues' on American Idol."

-S, age 7

By the numbers

Inspired by Bek's account, my weekend:

Asthma/allergy attacks: 1

Sessions of conference listened to online: 4

Fights between two little boys: Infinity

Bathroom floods (splashing-related): 2

Front yard floods (hose-play-related): 1

Soaked foam mattresses: 1

Inflatable toys inflated by children using an air compressor: 3 (amazing!)

Spray paint cans used for nefarious purposes: 0, but it was almost 1

Giant piles of bedding used to cushion kids jumping off the moving treadmill: 1

Minutes elapsed between the end of the priesthood session and my demand that G come home right now before I kill somebody: 21

Loads of laundry folded: 4 (only 4 this week!)

Dollars spent at Costco: 173

Mattresses removed from the top bunk: 1

Bins of toys dumped: 4, but 2 of them were dumped twice in the back yard, so really sort of 6+

Miles biked by S and his dad: 7.5

Miles driven by me to pick up saddle-sore S: 7

Snarky comments by me to G about letting him ride out further than he could ride back: 2

Times G has done this to me before (making me pick him up from a too-long expedition): 1

Episodes of House watched on DVD: 3

Episodes I had already seen: 3

Children I actually killed: 0 (yay me!)

The good things this weekend were Thoroughly Modern Millie at the Sierra Repertory Theater and The Pursuit of Happyness on DVD. And the steak I made yesterday (garlic and pepper, grilled to medium rare). That was pretty much it.

I am still working on the second Women in my History post. I know it's April already. Sorry.

It's nice to know

Your Celebrity Baby Name Is...

Laprincia Sonora

What's Your Celebrity Baby Name?

If I had been born to celebrities it was obviously going to be to an African American celebrity family, like maybe the Jacksons. I could have been a lot more famous but also a lot more messed up. If only they knew what they were missing when they decided not to have me, the darling LaPrincia.

Women in my history

March is Women's History Month, and I've been thinking about influential women in my history. They deserve some credit. This post will be about women in my family. I have another one brewing about other women, too.

First, of course, I have to mention my very powerful matrilineal ancestors. When I follow the women straight back several generations, I find Sarah Crossley, a handcart pioneer. She was my Mormon fairytale when I was a little girl -- crossed the plains in the Martin Company and became the fourth wife of the missionary who converted her family and then rescued her from the snows of Wyoming.

Her daughter, Mary Elvira is the woman I can thank for great ideas like keeping a hand-crank freezer full of ice cream under the bed for those pesky hot flashes -- and sayings like "Better belly bust than good food go to waste!"

Mary Elvira's daughter Alice was my great-grandmother and has left a wonderful life history that has greatly influenced my testimony about answers to prayer and the healing power of priesthood blessings. A spunky tomboy who grew up on a farm in Bountiful, she was always getting hurt or in trouble and being rescued by her mother's prayers and her father's blessings. Our time on earth crossed very briefly. I remember her teaching me to roll my r's and making delicious mustard pickles in her kitchen in the basement of my grandma's house in Draper.

That grandma, Alice's daughter, is still living and has taught me more than I can say -- the beauty of a well kept home and garden, the value of good home cooking, unwavering dedication to Church service, and perhaps most of all, absolute fearlessness about death and assurance of the power of the Atonement and of God's plan for our eternal lives. Grandma was a working mom in the age of June Cleaver and an early advocate of ideas like equal pay for equal work. She also sacrificed her career when it became necessary in favor of serving the Lord. She is uncompromising about good manners, good language and good choices. What a wonderful legacy.

Next in line is my mother. I know most every woman has a lot to say about her mother, good or bad. I'm very lucky that it's really all good for me. This is the woman who taught me that I am beautiful, smart and good, and that every child of God deserves equal respect and love -- black and white and brown. Hatred and mockery were as unacceptable in our home as the coarsest curses. And if I ever heard her swear, I would still think the word was coming to an end. She has striven to obey and learned when to question. She has had her heart broken and mended again. She can do everything, from caring for a cranky, ailing loved one to whipping up a wedding dress or creating a beautiful painting. She has spent a very big part of her life and talents on the six of us, her children. The world has missed out, but we have benefited. Now the world gets her, too, as she works with at-risk children in the schools, helping them learn to read or visiting their homes and speaking to their parents -- often in Spanish -- about how to support their children's school efforts.

I cannot leave out my dad's mother, the energetic, enterprising, maybe slightly mischievous grandma who -- after a career as a school librarian while her kids were growing up -- decided she'd like to go into real estate. She was the first person I ever knew who had a cell phone. She opened her own brokerage in her 60s and has prospered well in that field. She's a sharpshooter -- literally -- with a penchant for pretty pocketknives, pearl-handled pistols, parties and practical jokes. (That alliteration worked out so well!) Like many mothers, I think, she has navigated the challenges of giving unconditional love versus tough love as her children have gone through hard times. More often, she has chosen the unconditional side, and I think she has been right. Her grandchildren have been unspeakably blessed to have her support -- not the same for all of us, but what we each needed, showing her wisdom and compassion.

I have two amazing sisters. Mary, whose talent for sleeping we always joke about, is actually a girl who can do pretty much whatever she wants. She is beautiful, patient, smart and strong. She knows how to make her own fun. She had the good insight to marry a chef. She is spiritually wise. Marta is a girl everybody thought was my daughter -- she was born when I was 15. (She just turned 18, which means I am now old.) I am floored by her ability to achieve and be involved in worthwhile causes like Operation Smile and a student shadow government in her town. I admire the way that, at such a young age, she is able to decide what is most important to her. Lovely and stylish, she is ultimately fun to follow as she grows into an amazing woman.

The last little woman in my family life is Z. Who is chubby and happy and funny and sweet, and who is teaching me everything about everything. Having a little girl has changed everything and nothing. I always wanted to make the world good and safe for her, even before I knew her. I always knew she would overcome whatever obstacles life placed in her path.

Gone but not forgotten

I lived in the suburbs of Pittsburgh from 1985-89. Apparently it had a pretty big effect on me.

You are 87% Pittsburgh.

 

Great job! There's nooooo doubt about it. You're from Da Burgh. You deserve a reward, so go have an Ahrn City or two. And GO STILLERS!

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