Blogiversary

As of tomorrow, I will have had this blog for seven years. Dude, that is a long time. In 2004 blogging was new and trendy and kind of underground, and not a lot of people had blogs. Now everybody has a blog and some people are professional bloggers.

Originally I was going to have this be a group blog of Mormon moms working outside the home. I soon found out that my friends who were in work situations like mine didn't really have time to blog, so the group thing fell by the wayside. I made time because I needed to clear my brain of my mommy stress, food obsessions, religious musings, kid worries, adoption plans, and other stuff to be able to work effectively. It was actually not a bad work strategy.

Two days before Thanksgiving in 2006 we welcomed our first foster baby, little tiny 6-pound Joseph, who only stayed with us for one day. Little did we know that the following week we would meet the baby diva who changed our lives, our Z.  (I can't believe she's about to turn 5. I'm getting her zebra-stripes-and-Minnie-Mouse birthday party ready for Monday.) Just seven months later we met our K, who fit right in and caused total chaos and upheaval, somehow both at the same time.

After giving it a year's worth of my best shot, I realized that a full-time job was not going to jive with being a mother of four (particularly in the foster-adopt process and with some kids with special quirks and needs). So it was about three years ago that I quit my job. Since then I have needed the blog less than before, I guess, and that's why it's tapered off some.

But I was just remembering my first post, a Thanksgiving menu and some disjointed wanderings of the mind. Typical!

I don't mean to make it sound like I'm quitting. I'm not quitting. Just reminiscing at the season of my blogiversary.

In that spirit, here's our menu for this year. You can see that since 2004 I have become, if possible, even more obsessed with food.

cheese plate with stilton, brie and Irish cheddar
butternut squash bisque with sage pesto swirl
fruit cup with berries and pomegranate seeds

orange and rosemary roasted turkey
sourdough stuffing
mashed potatoes (I have learned how to make them without such gluey results!)
pan gravy
steamed and buttered brussels sprouts
green salad in the style of Toni's Courtyard Cafe (with fruit, nuts, dried cranberries and balsamic vinaigrette)
broccoli salad (our friends are making this)
roasted yams and pineapple
out-of-this-world rolls
cranberry and ginger ale punch

pumpkin pie
dutch apple pie
chocolate cream pie
carrot pudding with rum hard sauce

eggnog
herbal tea

So, I should get cooking, huh? I'll be in the kitchen, if you want to wish me a happy blogiversary.

Us

Grate/grace/great

Last year on Facebook, I wrote something I was grateful for every day for the whole month of November. It was a great thing to do; it opened up my heart and prepared me so well to have a really meaningful and spiritual Christmas season. This year I am pleased to see many friends doing the same thing.

But I haven't been doing it. I don't know if this is a mistake or not. I won't lie to you, the month started out with me struggling to just keep my head above water emotionally and although I still was and still am grateful for the many good things in my life, I didn't really feel like I had the energy to summon up the personal graciousness to declare it every day. I was also having trouble with other people's declarations of "I'm so blessed" and "I'm so grateful," because sometimes it seems like bragging. I've griped about that some, which I know has flummoxed some friends. I know that might not seem like the most mature way to handle a tough spot in your life. But we feel what we feel, and we do what we need to do to get through.

As long as in the meantime we are doing the work we need to do to make life a little better, I think that's ok. Sometimes that just means hanging on until the day looks brighter. Sometimes it means digging deep in your relationships and your approaches to life's problems until you find something you can change. Probably most often it's a little of both.

And that's what's coloring my view of gratitude and grace and graciousness and greatness this Thanksgiving season. I am grateful for forgiveness of my failures to be gentle and kind and understanding when what was really needed from me was so much more than what I gave. I am grateful for the chance to catch up when I have fallen behind. I am grateful for reminders about what's really important. I'm grateful for people who are willing to turn over the rocks and clean out what's underneath with me, and for those who see a need and quietly fill it. I'm grateful for the chances to immerse myself in music or work or exercise or worship during the whole process to allow my mind and heart a little bit of rest. I'm grateful for how words comfort. I'm grateful for how time heals. I'm grateful for blessings I don't deserve.

Life is never going to be all fixed and perfect, that's my conclusion. But there really is an awful lot to thank God for along the way.

In general

The longer I don't write, the harder it becomes to write. I build up such a backlog of material that I don't know where to start. Or else I get so out of practice that I don't know how.

My sister M2 did a general-purpose update on her blog, which I liked. I didn't know that she was going to Hawaii for Christmas, for example, so I'm glad she blogged it. I had a great trip to Hawaii with my husband when I was exactly her age. It seems like a long time ago, and I guess it pretty much was. We're fifteen years apart but seem to be getting closer as sisters recently. I love it.

Anyway, back on topic. General purpose update. I thought maybe I could go down the line, person by person, Christmas letter style. I'm not sure I'll be writing a Christmas letter this year, anyway. Sometimes it gets hard for me to walk the line between keeping it real and oversharing, and the Christmas letter seems kinda high pressure in a year when things have been a little more real than I'd like at times.

I'll start with myself. I'm riding the frost heaves all right. Lots of up and down. I find I am easily dragged down when my plans are frustrated or when other people are not feeling good. Trying to keep taking care of myself. I think I mostly have the exercise thing down; I know too well how it affects my mood and emotions if I skip. You would never know it to look at me, which is kind of depressing, but I am trying not to be all about how I look, The day the lights go on in my head about controlling what I eat (I seem to have a faulty switch) I will really have it all together. Considering everything going on, some of which I will refrain from writing about (that oversharing thing) I think I am actually doing pretty well.

I am doing a lot of driving these days. Driving to the gym, driving to preschool, driving to drop of somebody's lunch money, driving to guitar lessons. And trying to keep up with people's homework and keep on top of the housework. It is never all done.

I'm editing a big mining textbook that was translated from Spanish. I do not speak Spanish. I speak French, because when I was 13 my mother thought I should take Spanish. So I took French. See how I am? The edit has been hard, and I've made liberal use of Google Translate and moved embarrassingly slowly, but it's also been pretty educational. By the end of the project I predict I will be able to read Spanish pretty passably and also be able to pass about two years of mining engineering courses without too much trouble, should I have the desire. I've finally given myself a deadline and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fortunately the client is my dad and he's almost superhumanly patient. I'm also still writing the occasional story for my former employer, work that is easy and fun. I love it. And I learned from my bishop that the Friend magazine will probably be publishing another one of my stories next June. I don't know which one. I guess they check with the bish before they go too far in the editorial process to make sure their authors haven't gone off the deep end. Probably smart.

I'm stuck on Pinterest and want to do all the cool projects I see there. So many excellent ideas. I try to pick up one every now and then. Often crochet, or upcycling, or something to cook or bake, or an organizing type thing. It always feels good to do work that stays done (as opposed to laundry or dishes).

Dr. G continues to be even more awesome than he thinks he is (haha). He is working so hard at everything and has gigantic expectations for himself. He has gotten a pretty extraordinary amount of research money for a young professor at a small teaching-oriented university and is pursuing a big NASA grant. He just got back from a trip to visit a mining company that is funding one of his projects. They love him, of course. He is in charge of the boys ages 12-18 at church and puts in a tremendous amount of time with them. And he is still committed to quality and quantity time with our kids. They have been fishing and having a great time together. I am sure I don't say it enough but I am pretty much crazy about my husband. He's had a bumpy road himself the last couple of months, managing all this stuff and the stress that comes with it. My wish for him - just that he could understand that nobody's perfect but he is pretty dang close.

S has made great progress since the last time I wrote about him in my "Dumps" post. It really was a rough start to junior high. Since then we have had two meetings with G and me and all S's teachers and counselors together, plus I've gone to parent-teacher conferences. It has been a relief to see the teachers start to understand him, and him start to understand how to work within the system at school. All the teachers say he has done the proverbial 180. He has become significantly less stressed and better behaved. His grades are coming up, and he is in the Rocket Club. He launched his rocket yesterday. It was a huge success, shooting way up into the clouds before landing in the field next to the school. I went to watch it with my littles, and we were all impressed. S has wonderful friends in church and Scouts, something I'm really grateful for. He is happy in that environment and doing well.

A is my rock, which I worry is unfair to say about a child but he really is just the kid I can count on to help out and be good and sweet almost all the time. Everyone loves him, especially little girls, and we seem to see girls he knows everywhere we go. His only struggle is finishing his work in class, because he's just too interested in the people around him. I know I should hate that but I kind of love it. His heart is so good and I know it will serve him well in life. If we can just keep up with the math, too, we'll be golden. He read the book "Holes" for school and really enjoyed that. But he's always reading something; it's getting hard for me to even keep track. Luckily I am a book hound so it would be pretty hard for him to run out of material. Last month he sang a duet with a friend in the Primary program at church. It was absolutely beautiful. I know it is hard for him to live with some non-typical siblings. It stresses him out sometimes. We understand each other in that way! It's easy to forget he's just a kid, but I try to let him know how much I appreciate him.

K is still so stinking cute at age 7. I remember thinking that my older boys were getting kind of big and gangly and less cute (more handsome and of course still lovable) at this age, so how is it that K is still my adorable little guy? I guess that's the advantage of being a younger child and small for his age (his brothers are both on the big side). He is hilarious and delights in that - pretty much a ham. His little rubberface expressions just kill me. He is struggling with his ADHD a little bit right now; it's not affecting his behavior so much as his concentration and attention, especially in the classroom, and so we are looking at adjusting his meds. Very often I finish my dinner, for example, and look over to find he hasn't even taken a bite yet. He's just way too distracted by everything else going on. Good thing he's adorable because this inattentive business is pretty crazy-making. He has a couple of good friends at school and church but really prefers his brothers over all other company. Pretty cute.

Z is really blossoming in preschool. It's amazing to see her so engaged with learning letters and numbers, days and months, and skills like buttoning her own buttons, which she now insists on doing. She loves her teacher and her little friends. Back in September G took a morning off work to teach her how to ride her little bike without training wheels, and she's so proud of that. She's also great about wearing her helmet (yeah!) maybe because we got a cute one with flowers. It's so interesting to me how different she is from me in her tastes and proclivities. For instance, she would choose hot pink and zebra stripes over my preferred earth tones and natural materials any day of the week. So I think we are going to be having a zebra-stripe Minnie Mouse birthday party at the end of this month. I'm amazed that my baby is about to turn five. On the other hand, little girl can sing. I love to hear her singing to herself or her dolls throughout the day. Girl after my own heart.

Heidi the dog still mostly just wants a few things in life: love, cheese, and long walks. Sounds pretty good, right? We've had her a whole year now and although we go through more vacuum bags than before (German Shepherds shed) she is a wonderful addition to our household. Most mellow dog I have ever met. It might be because she's mentally challenged but that's fine by me. A smart dog would probably be more than I could handle.

Montana is getting cold. I am buckling down for the long winter. Maybe with the weather getting crappy and the general-purpose update behind me, I'll write some more for you. We'll see.

Open up

We have this kind of unusual situation in the ward (church congregation) here. There are a lot of people on the rolls who, as newbies of two years, we don't know. Never met 'em. OK, that's not so unusual. The thing is that here, a stunningly high percentage of these folks are on the far end of elderly. So we tend to have a funeral at the church every couple of weeks for a person we don't know.

I am working in the Relief Society (church women's organization) and also happen to be one of the people in the ward who sings and leads music fairly comfortably. So one way or the other I end up being tapped to help out with a lot of these funerals. Which I don't mind a bit, truly. It is a privilege to do some small thing for people, even strangers, who have lost a dear one, whether it's making brownies or serving food or standing up at the front of the chapel waving my arms around.

And I have some experience being involved with funerals. In California, we cherished our friendship with a couple where the wife was a wonderful singer and the husband was a funeral director. When the wife couldn't be there for a funeral that needed music, I sometimes stepped in with "Ave Maria" or something. For a beloved mother whose funeral was thronged with her family ... or a man who died of AIDS-related causes whose family would not even attend his memorial service. It always gave me cause for thought, compassion, humility.

So, today. I got called to open up the church for the mortuary staff, then lead the music and sing "Be Still, My Soul." All good. The thing was, I was singing almost as much a solo during the hymns with arm-waving as the hymn without. I think I saw one person in the congregation whose mouth was moving. And it was not a small group. This woman's family obviously loved her and remembered her with a lot of humor and affection. But whoa, man, once the organ kicked in, stony-faced silence. They were anti-music or maybe anti-Mormon or something.

And I can roll with that. Sure, it's awkward for the lady in the front with the music stand. But of course it's not about that.

Just, when I kick the bucket someday in the far future, please open up your mouths and sing at my funeral.

Dumps

1. I did not sleep well. I have a lot of problems with racing brain syndrome. When I take melatonin I have dreams where I am screaming at people. Usually they are pretty telling dreams and I really cannot deal with that right now.
2. I have a kid who needs a dosage increase but is already at the maximum dosage for his medication. ADHD parents have some clue what I'm talking about. He is grounded until Wednesday and has detention for the next three days for yelling in the hallway at school. We have already spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours on therapy this year. I'm not sure where else to go from this point. I am grateful that he is more functional than some other kids I know. I am not grateful that his issues are invisible and often people (including me) have unreasonable expectations of him. I am confused about what my expectations should be. I am not feeling very confident as a mom lately.
3. Said kid flooded the basement storage room over the weekend by sticking the backyard hose in the dryer vent pipe. I am grateful that my dryer still works but not grateful to be washing every towel I own today. And I am trying hard not to think about mold.
4. When I go to class at the Y I am more the speed of the 50-somethings than the other 30-somethings. Any 30-somethings in the same kind of shape as me want to go and start being my class buddy? I'm getting a bad inferiority complex.
5. Speaking of age, as I approach the next decade my chin has decided it would be fun to start growing whiskers. I called an electrolysis lady. She told me to stop plucking and call her back in a couple of weeks. So now I shave, like a man, and am working myself up to another embarrassing phone call. Did I mention I have telephonophobia anyway?
6. Montana is smoking. You cannot see the mountains. The air is gray. My throat hurts. My nose is bleeding a couple times a day. I worry a great deal about my two asthmatic kids. I don't even have the energy to worry about the poor firefighters. I am tired of this.
7. My preschooler still has not started preschool. We pay for the whole month of September but she doesn't get to go until this Thursday. She is so bored when all her brothers are in school and she has no one to bug but me and our slightly mentally challenged but sweet and sainted dog. It is tantrum city around here. All three of us need preschool in a bad way.

I thought I might get to ten reasons why today sucks, but past seven I would be scraping. And when you already have seven things to complain about, why scrape for more?

On the bright side, it's my girls' weekend in Park City this weekend. I hope it's not smoky.

Bite the bullets

Random thoughts for tonight.

• I am not at all pleased about this. (Administrators from our school district are striking for more pay, and our schools are closed as of 6 p.m. today because of course, teachers will not cross picket lines.) I appreciate school principals and know they work hard. The new principal at our neighborhood elementary is particularly impressive, and I wouldn't put him down. I also absolutely believe in collective bargaining rights for public employees. However, I have a hard time seeing principals and other administrators as labor-side rather than management-side. And I think they and the district could have tried harder to come to an agreement before striking. Shame on both sides for not giving just a little more to keep our kids in school. What is it that people in today's world do not understand about "meet in the middle?" 
• Yes, Washington D.C., I am talking about you, too. I am appalled that the president (whom I support) is criticized by his own party for a simple courtesy like rescheduling a speech to accommodate the other party's presidential primary debate, for example. Seriously? Can't you all just act normal?
• Also, how can one principal per school really create a picket line? Wouldn't that be a picket point? And how would you cross it even if you tried?
• Pinterest. Trouble on a stick. Just saying.
• I understand capes are in fashion this fall. In a fortunate coincidence, I happen to own a vintage navy blue wool cape. (Thank you, Miriam!) What would you wear with a vintage navy blue wool cape? Slim pants (almost an oxymoron for me, rather a big-legged mama) and boots seem to be de rigeur. Are black and navy OK together now? Or do I have an excuse to spring for some brown boots? What answer do you think I want?
• Guess how long it took me this morning to fold the laundry after a Scout camping trip in which half my family participated. Go ahead. Give up? Four hours. I need a wife, right?
• We have taken up fishing. Rather, Dr. G has taken up fishing and brings with him three willing boys, a reluctant wife with her camera and current novel, and a small daughter who thinks she would like to fish but mostly ends up throwing tantrums. So far: four trips. Two small rainbow trout. We will try to value the family time over the protein. At least they do taste good. I told G there's a reason people call it a fishing expedition when they are undertaking a venture that offers no guarantee of any results at all.
• Z rides a bike without training wheels, as of last Friday. It almost breaks my heart. Not that I want a baby, or that I want her to stay a baby, but that she is just not going to be small for very much longer. She is overjoyed.
• If these bullet points were peanut butter M&Ms I really would bite them. Even if I hypothetically found them on the floor of the minivan, left over from several weeks ago. Hypothetically.

Summer Into

It's the last day of August. When I was a teenager in Alaska I wrote a song about how that feels. It wasn't a particularly good song, but I remember it, and I remember trying to capture that feeling. It's ominous, the ending of a northern summer, because you know it's not coming back for a good, long time. But it also gives you new beginnings as an academic year starts, and a lot to look forward to if you like coziness and white Christmases and sleds and firelight.

The temperature has dropped from 90 (we think that's hot in Montana, and give us a break, nobody here has air conditioning!) to 71. Clouds are rolling in as I type. I can't sleep with the window open anymore, lest I feel like I'm camping. That feeling has its place, and it's not in my bedroom.

I am wearing my comfy white cropped cargo pants and yellow block-print-floral t-shirt for probably the last time this year. I've given myself a final self-administered summer pedicure in Snappy Sorbet. (Definitely my favorite color of the summer - coral with a little pearliness to it.) I'm on the lookout for a cute, new fall color to which I can treat myself. Anybody got suggestions? I'm thinking maybe something in the tan-to-taupe range.

Fall seems like the time to curl up with a quilt and a book, like Jo in Little Women. I got a Louise Erdrich book to read. I realized that it was twenty years ago I first met this phenomenal author. I read Tracks in my high school A.P. English class. Twenty years is a long time to love one writer. I still love this one. I'm just about a third of the way through Shadow Tag. So far it is as vivid, complicated and moving as any previous books I've read from Erdrich (a lot of them). It's early for this, but I'd already say you might want to pick it up.

I'm reading more because I'm mostly trying to follow the no-screens-on-weekdays rule I've imposed on the rest of my family. (Folding laundry doesn't count.) That's necessary because the kids are back in school, three days' worth. We've taken the back-to-school snapshots. We even have a filing system for papers. Each school kid got a three-compartment file organizer. I labeled them with names, and then "Keep/File," "Work to Do" and "Return to School." After school we sort each backpack out and do homework. In the morning, they can just grab their completed work and signed papers (so many of those papers for Mom to sign the first week of school!) and go. Under each file organizer will hang a backpack hook. I've bought them, but I haven't put them up yet. I'm also hoping to get a big tray for the boots. But we haven't gotten to boot season yet.

Still, I urgently want some Bogs. They're waterproof, insulated, and super cute. You have your choice of colors. I have seen them worn to church, with a dress. I love it. This is the kind of place where you basically flip off any fashion rules you want, anyway. Almost like in Alaska where Sorels and the symphony go perfectly well together. I have shopped around for the Bogs I want, and Amazon's price is the best one I've seen. Just saying. I have cute boots, thanks to my cute professor, but they are not the kind of boots you want to wear in mud and slush. These boots could handle it. If we get the kind of freeze/thaw this winter that we got last winter, that's going to be pretty important.

The storm has hit now, mostly moved on, given everything a fast drenching in big drops. A few rumbles of thunder have been and gone. The sun's shining on the wet streets as the last drops land on my patio roof. My kids need help with their homework. Here comes fall.

Yellow

When I was about 10, my mom taught me how to make macaroni and cheese. Not the kind from a box. Homemade, with a white-sauce-based cheese sauce. Not baked. Just soft, creamy, cheesy goodness all the way through.

I strayed for a while. I bought the blue boxes. They seemed cheap and easy. Eventually I realized that while my kids asked for these boxes and thought they liked the resulting goo (known to some as the Yellow Death), they never actually ate it. That's no bargain.


I switched back this summer to the recipe I learned as a kid. I might kick it up a little more than I did 27 years ago. But the idea's the same, and it's always a hit. Today I made it for nine little people. It was gone before I could get a picture.

This is not a diet recipe. All my kids are skinny and need to pork up, in my opinion. You can lighten it by using less butter, lowfat milk, and less or lowfat cheese. If you're using less cheese, try a sharper flavor. Maybe some sharp cheddar or parmesan. My mom made some recently using really good Irish cheddar. It was divine.

Macaroni and Cheese


1 pound dry pasta - any stubby variety will do. Today we used rotelle.

4 tbsp. butter or butterlike substance. Today, Brummel and Brown spread. Even olive oil works, in a pinch.
3-4 tbsp. flour
2 c. milk (skim or 1% is fine; use whole if you really want to fatten up those children so you can eat them later.)
1 c. grated medium cheddar cheese. More or less will still work. Other kinds will also work.

Seasonings to taste:
salt (a pinch is enough; milk and cheese are salty things!)
white pepper (I use about 3 good shakes)
dry mustard (half a teaspoon does me fine)
turmeric (tiny bit, for color only)

Boil pasta in salted water until done. Drain in a colander.

In the same pot over medium heat, melt butter. Add flour and stir to make a paste. Cook about 1 minute to get rid of the floury taste. Add milk. Whisk constantly until smooth and thickened. Stir in cheese and seasonings. Taste and adjust.

Add pasta and stir to coat.

Serve to cute-faced people. Grapes are great on the side and perfectly in season right now, at the end of one fun summer.

Dream

Last night I dreamed of my friend Mimi, who passed away from pancreatic cancer in 2007. In my dream, I was a middle schooler, and she saved me from a long walk in high heels by giving me a lift in her car. It was Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. She let me drive.

I think I'm going to be happy all day.

Home

August is a really wonderful time to be in a northern clime. I always got homesick for Fairbanks about this time of year when I lived in hot places. Now that I am in Montana, it's almost like being there. In some ways, possibly even nicer.

The days are warm, but almost never uncomfortable. (Never too hot to bake if you fancy, for example, a banana cake with penuche frosting after you go over to volunteer at the food bank with a bunch of church people and the director is desperately trying to give out black bananas because what food bank director could stand to waste bananas?) It's in the 80s Fahrenheit. Like a perfect May day in California, except with no pollution. The air is as clear as a polished window. Clearer.

A thunderstorm may or may not roll through in the late afternoon or early evening. Big drops splash on the roof of my patio and make a lot of wonderful noise. Afterward I can smell the spruce trees in the backyard mixing with that clean rain smell and it's pretty near heaven. The birds sing up in those trees and I wish I could see them better. My K, who is now 7, says he can see a nest.

Flowers are tumbling gloriously everywhere, from hanging baskets and beds and anyplace people can put them. It's going to be white and gray here for a long time. Like in Alaska, people in Montana know how to enjoy color and scent in summer. My garden is pretty shabby this year because I was gone so long. Just some salvia and sage blossoms and nasturtiums. Petrovskia struggling along and not blooming. But the nasturtiums are only starting to get good and I sure do love them and look forward to them. My strawberry patch is thriving.

Speaking of berries, let's change the topic to cherries. My sweet 90-something across-the-street neighbor, Louise, called me over after I brought the kids back from swimming at the YMCA this afternoon. She gave me a huge bowl of cherries, and they are not just any old cherries. These sweet, burgundy-black beauties are from the Flathead Valley. They are the best I've had since I was a little girl on a ladder, picking cherries from a huge, overgrown tree in the yard of a hundred-year-old house in Ogden where my family lived for a couple of years. The cherries I ate tonight were picked this morning. You can't beat that.

We went for a family hike tonight up Maud S Canyon which is so convenient to town and amazingly beautiful. It has been a wet year and a lot of plants are still green that would be dried out in a normal year, all nestled in around the big boulders on the mountainside. And there are tons of sweet little flowers, thistle and baby's breath and different kinds of clovers and fireweed and cowslip and other things I don't know how to identify yet. It was pretty spectacular, and to top it off  we got the most amazing sunset.

We traveled a lot this summer. We had a wonderful time. It is good to be home.

Teaching is giving

A short story from Grandpa Tom, who taught band for many years in a couple of different high schools in northern Utah and far southeastern Idaho, told in his voice if not his exact words. (My dad and brother have worked to record many of Grandpa's stories on video, but I just had my leaky old brain with me this weekend, no fancy equipment.)

Mostly on band trips things went pretty well. I don't think we ever had a boy and girl get together, that I knew of. Just the worry about it. Sometimes the boys did a little drinking. But usually there was not much trouble.

One time I took a group of kids to Disneyland. A girl came up to me and said, "Mr. N-----, so-and-so needs you." I asked her what for. She said, "She's taken a bottle of perfume and they won't release her until somebody pays a $300 fine in cash."

Well, cash! I never carried cash. But for some reason this time I had put a thousand dollars in my wallet. So I went and paid the fine. Oh, was she glad to see me.

Here I said, "I sure hope her parents paid you back." Grandpa quickly replied.

Oh, they couldn't have. Her dad had been in an accident and was paralyzed from the neck down. He tried to do some substitute teaching, and the kids were good to him, but it was never enough. They couldn't have paid that fine. But I think she learned something.

Returns

Here I am, returning to Watch Out for Mama after what I think is my longest ever hiatus. Two months. I'm doing this because I've returned to another place, severed from many of my responsibilities and holed up in a cool house on a beyond-hot day in a hot place.

In case you haven't guessed, I am definitely not in Montana at the moment. Although I've heard it's what passes for hot there today - 90 degrees.

I'm here in California. Subletting a furnished house in my six-year hometown while Dr. G does contract work in Fresno, reuniting with old friends, and remembering how it feels to stand under the AC vent and try to suck the coolness into my body when it's 105 degrees outside.

It is kind of surreal. Kind of like I never left. I still turn the wheel of my van around familiar corners very nearly on autopilot. Cruise the aisles of the stores and know where to find things. Pick out my strawberries and baby pattypan squash at the roadside stand and feel a little lifted by the smiles of the cute Hmong teenagers who work there.

We went to our old ward today and hugged and hugged and hugged again, dear people who saw me through the early Watch Out for Mama years when I was so unbelievably overextended and trying to convince myself and prove to the world all the time that I could handle it, really! People who watched my kids when I was working, some on a regular basis and some as backups. Who showed up when I got a new foster baby (remember little one-day Joseph?) or lost one. Visiting teaching contacts who let me sit on their sofas for hours and learn from them, or companions who called and made sure things got done when I didn't have that kind of time anymore, or who averted their eyes from my dusty corners on regular visits and then showed up when I really needed help. Sisters who taught me by their example how to serve - to choose helpers whose strengths compensated for my weaknesses, to sit by a stranger and ask her questions about herself, to go without fear on God's errands.

We have still to visit the campus where I worked. That was also hard to leave. But now there is a brick there with our family name on it - my gift to Dr. G on his graduation. And I do still work with my colleagues there. It's a joy for me to be in touch with them and to keep getting to know the staff and alumni of that school. Does my heart good, every time. This week I get to visit my old haunt in the university's downtown office to interview a new employee there. It should be fun. Just fun. Not too bittersweet, I don't think.

This town was a unique kind of training ground for me. I can't say I implement all its lessons very well sometimes. But I did learn and I am better than I was before I came here. I wonder if I will cry again when I leave. Maybe not. I have a new home and dear friends in Montana now; I won't be leaping into the unknown like I was at the end of 2009. But returning to California has reminded me how dear it is to my heart.

Brain

S started neurofeedback training in March to help with his ADHD symptoms and some other issues. We’re doing everything we can to help him get ready to go to middle school this fall. It’s a little bit nerve wracking because, well, middle school sucks for most kids. And for a non-typical kid coming from a homeschool environment there will probably be even more challenges. But we feel like it’s time. The district has good professionals who are offering lots of support already. They can do things that truthfully I, untrained in education and child development, probably can’t do. Not to mention, I urgently need a break.

Anyway, neurofeedback. Two sessions each week. This means I have spent a lot of time in the waiting room. Reading more magazines than normal. 

Celebrities are not my hobby. I don’t consider myself a gossip hound, but stuck in a row of chairs with nothing to do and given the choice between People and Sports Illustrated, I will choose People every time. I’d never buy it myself, but it does pass the time while S trains his brain. 

Same with fluff women’s magazines – Good Housekeeping, Redbook, whatever. I am willingly and easily sucked right in. It is shocking how much I have read lately about ways to have your best body, dress fashionably, decorate my home, wear good makeup and emulate various celebrities.

This may explain why I dreamed about being Kate Middleton on a honeymoon in Alaska and being so thrilled and in love that I had to write all my grievances about social injustice on my hand in ballpoint pen so I would remember to tell my new husband about them instead of just swooning every time I saw him. Or about taking all my kids to see the Breeders in concert at a restaurant where we had great seats, but it turned out that there were a lot more sisters in the band these days, not just Kim and Kelly Deal. And they looked a lot more … Kardashian-like, a la the cover of the May 2011 Redbook.

I know you wanted that peek inside my brain today.

Absence

One of the benefits of being married to a first-year professor is this: He may come home late, but he comes home, usually. He's so wrapped up in course preparation and academic writing that he doesn't have time to travel, and he's not yet connected enough to have a lot of things to travel to. I see my husband almost every night.

A lot of women I know are not that lucky. It's something I remind myself about when the paycheck barely makes it to the end of the month and I feel a little envy for families whose primary breadwinner's profession of choice took less sacrifice and preparation and/or pays more money. ("Why did I become a professor?" Dr. G asked one day recently. "Well, it wasn't for the money!" replied cranky I.)

But this week he is paying dues with a solid networking-type connection, delivering a talk at the workplace of a grad school buddy. Staying in a hotel and eating in restaurants, working out when he chooses without worrying about childcare, receiving adulation for the work he does, and enjoying some California sunshine. All alone.

I am mothering four children in a Montana springtime; each day we seem to get some sun, some bitter and nasty wind, and some blowsy, non-sticking snow. I am schlepping A, who has pneumonia, to the doctor every day for lung-listening checks and oxygen checks and antibiotics shots. (Thank heavens the doctor is trying to keep him out of the hospital and so far succeeding as he begins to recover.) I am greeting the efficient and smiling women at my favorite pharmacy, yet again. I am administering oxygen and inhalers and nebulizer treatments and prednisone and Zithromax. I am hounding kids to do the dishes. I am breaking up fights. I am worrying about walking the dog and not walking the dog. I am hanging tough through my final few weeks of homeschooling S. I am trying hard to stay on top of parent-teacher communications. I am folding pile after pile after pile of laundry. I am refusing to get anxious about all the crap that certain people have piled up in the yard and certain dogs have piled up in the back. I am preparing to trek to Missoula for neurofeedback tomorrow with not two but three kids in tow, because pneumonia boy is not cleared for school attendance yet. Getting ready to spend my birthday money on gas for the trip, and hoping the van doesn't have any problems, because it is overdue for scheduled maintenance but seriously, when would it be ok for me to have a carless day?

Am I envying the good doctor? Well, duh. Missing the days when I traveled for work and having fond memories of exploring Chicago, Las Vegas, San Antonio, L.A. on my own? Yes.

But unhappy? Surprisingly, not really. Because you know what, I am rocking this. I am actually getting this done. I am not breaking down. Did you hear me? I have not yet lost it!

And I am remembering all the time that if my husband were not so awesome at taking on his share and often more than his share of the work when he is home, I wouldn't notice it so much when he is gone. I am in fact very lucky.

I remember talking in some English-major type class in college about elements that are so glaringly absent - in this case, from a novel - that they become presences in that novel. The absent presence. Maybe that is what I will call Dr. G when he is traveling.

'nStuff

How long since we had a stuff post? Oh, long. I mean a stuff I have and love post ... not a stuff-I-wish-for post. So. Let's have a stuff I love post. I am doing this fancy Amazon thing now, and I do get paid if you click and buy, but I promise you I will not link any bad deals or any stuff that I don't sincerely love.

Are you using sunscreen? I am trying so hard to be better about this. I live at a high altitude. The air is actually clean. The air is cold. It's easy to get fooled and it's super, super easy to get sunburned. I do not want to have skin cancer, never never never. And I have been burned so much in my life, I know I am already at risk. You need to use sunscreen, too! Every day!

This Neutrogena moisturizer is my favorite sunscreen product for everyday for my face. I used it before I started using Proactiv for my delightful adult acne issues. I am using it again now in addition to the Proactiv routine. Works fine. Is not stinky. Has handy pump dispenser. Cheaper than the (also excellent) Proactiv products that do the same thing.

I still use a Proactiv SPF 30 product when I'm going to be outside all day long, by the way.

Pay attention, this is a two-pack. That makes it as cheap as it is at WalMart. Good deal.

You could not call me a trendy person, really. But I do like to pretend I am keeping up with something somewhat current in my appearance. Very often it is nail polish, because nail polish is cheap and, let's be honest, doesn't care if I need to lose a few pounds.

Sally Hansen Complete Salon Manicure in the color Commander in Chic was my big fancy fashion splurge this winter. Heh.

I keep my toes painted even in winter now. Not what I would have thought would happen now that I live in the land of boots and sweaters and real winter parkas. But I go to class at the YMCA and spread out my yoga toes on the mat and we can't have them looking all gross and toe-ey, now, can we?

So Commander in Chic is gray, but it's sort of this multidimensional gray that changes hues in different light or with different clothing. When you wear brown with it, it looks taupe. When you wear it with brighter colors or pastels, it looks lavender. It's a great, great color.

This polish also has a really great rounded brush that makes it much easier to polish your nails without messing up. Also, price on Amazon about the same as Wal-Mart, so click up.

 Who loves perfume? Well, not everyone. But I do. What I love is really sweet perfume, really yummy smelling, usually with some gardenia somewhere in it.

Donna Karan is the lucky winner of my last two favorite-perfume titles. Her scent Gold was so fabulous; sadly for me it was discontinued, which left me using my remaining bottle only for special dates with Dr. G. Ahem.

Then I caught a whiff of Be Delicious. I had a hard time deciding between this version and the pink Fresh Blossom kind. Big surprise, in the end my favorite color won out. I used a Christmas gift card and my mailman brought it right to me! It is sweet and fruity and yummy. Today Z caught a whiff of it and tried to trade me for the water-filled body spray bottle I gave her a few months ago. Nice try, sweetie. And I appreciate that you have great taste. But N to the O.

And this perfume is being made as we speak, so I can wear it every single day except for when I am going to the doctor or a particular visiting teaching lady or to church where I know people are sensitive to it. So I can enjoy smelling myself almost all the time.

Do you remember the one singular thing I rock at as a mother? Hint: It is not speaking softly ... or keeping a clean house!

It is reading to my kids. We just finished Around the World in 100 days by Gary Blackwood, who also wrote The Shakespeare Stealer. He is a good, solid writer of historical novels - great teaching tools and lots of fun.

Around the World follows the adventures of Hari Fogg, son of the famous and fictional Phileas Fogg (how is that for alliteration?) who circumnavigated the globe in 80 days. Hari - more commonly known by his Anglicized name of Harry - does it all (except the oceans) in a steam-powered car with his best friend, a mechanical genius who suffers the effects of a head injury, an intrepid young woman reporter, and the annoying Charles Hardiman, who is the son of Hari's betting nemesis, railroad tycoon Julius Hardiman.

There's lots of great geography to learn. Lots of cultural fun, especially when Hari meets an Indian man who teaches him about that part of his own heritage. Sabotage, disaster and conflict plague them until the gripping finish. Very, very fun read. My A really identified with the dashing and adventurous biracial hero.

Once we finished "Harry," as my kids called the book, we jumped right into On the Blue Comet by Rosemary Wells.

Yes, that Rosemary Wells, Rosemary Wells of Max and Ruby fame, at least around here. Have you seen Zora reading Max's Chocolate Chicken? I can't believe that was a whole year ago. She is still a huge fan of Max and Ruby. Who wouldn't love Max and Ruby?

We are also loving Blue Comet. We just hit the big twist where it turns into more than a Depression-era coming-of-age story. I won't even tell you. Just the characters and the language will be enough to pull you in. You don't even need a twist, but what a great twist! Get the book!

Bonus: my oldest son who loves to call people "hobo" as a lighthearted insult is actually learning what a hobo was in that era and why people left their homes and rode the rails.

More stuff to love, no links:

• The Kirkland dried cherries from Costco. I am supposed to eat less chocolate because it contributes to kidney stones. Boo on that. But the cherries are a nice, indulgent but healthy substitute.
• Two dollars' worth of daffodils from Safeway. Bring an unreasonable amount of joy for a whole week if you buy them unopened and keep them watered.
• Thrifting in Missoula. Holy fun thrift stores up there.

That's all for tonight!

Devoid of strife

Today we sang "Gently Raise the Sacred Strain" in sacrament meeting. I love that hymn - beautiful melody, inspiring words about the sabbath and the sacrament. And what a blessing, we have had a holy day (mostly) devoid of strife. I thought I better write it down, because that doesn't happen too often. We are sort of a high-drama family sometimes.

The kids all got ready for church basically on time. I had to leave about 20 minutes before church started instead of our usual 10 (we are spoiled, aren't we!?) to get the room prepared for the Sunday School lesson I was teaching, so G brought S who had not yet finished breakfast. By some miracle (probably the miracle called Patient Daddy) the kid managed to get out of bed at 8:20 and still be at church, appropriately dressed, fed, and unstinky, by 9. With no screaming or fighting.

My friend Angie and her family spoke in sacrament meeting about families. They did a beautiful job focusing on the positive. As her husband spoke about the family he grew up in I had to fight off my usual pang of envy and bristle of resentment for the low-drama type families; it sounds like he grew up in a wonderful environment (I did, too) and has a great relationship with his family (there are spots where this is harder). He spoke about how his siblings voted to forgo Christmas one year so that his parents could pay for an expensive brace he needed in order to continue playing football, which was really important to him. I wish for peaceful and giving relationships like that. And then I tried to apply my work of the last year about acceptance and priorities and doing my best and letting go the rest. And it helped. And that allowed me to see past my issues and find the things I needed to apply from the talks today. Not easy stuff. Worthwhile stuff, though.

I taught my lesson, which was about three miracles from the Savior's ministry - the healing at the pool of Bethesda, the feeding of the 5,000, and Christ walking on the water. It was so up my alley, lots of talk about symbolism and grace. Or maybe I just made it that way. Anyway the class seemed reasonably engaged and it was a good experience for me. I do love how teaching or speaking seems to focus my study and prayer.

Relief Society was also lovely, and not just because the teacher brought us Cadbury Mini Eggs. Yeah, I've admitted it to my sister and a couple of friends - I am off the wagon with Mr. Sugar. I will try again. Anyway the lesson was about the Word of Wisdom and I was really pleased at how the ladies kept it understanding and non-judgmental. (Irony anyone? W of W lesson while sucking down the most addictive candy on earth?)

We had soup and sandwiches for lunch, then a lovely nap, interrupted only a couple of times by my enthusiastic Ms. Z. I made quiche and a big, yummy salad and talked to my parents on the phone while G and Z took Heidi the dog for a walk, and then after we ate the kids went outside to play with G while I ... did this. Blogging and facebooking. The fireplace is on, the clouds are layered high and feathery, and I have a lemon meringue pie in the fridge. What better dessert for a pie-type dinner than pie? Right?

Lovely Sunday.

Birthday Fairy

Dear Birthday Fairy,

In just more than a month I will be turning 37. Unmistakably closer to 40 than 30. I feel I should get some recognition for making it through the last year. Since you see me when I'm sleeping and know when I'm awake (that's you, right?) we don't have to go into details here.

Right now we have committed significant resources to medical stuff, and I'm grateful we can do that, but it's not exactly satisfying to shop for a kidney stone removal, hernia repair, or neurofeedback therapy. And it all leaves me no room to do real shopping. So what I'm going to do instead is make a wish list and turn it over to you. Then clap my hands three times and wish real hard.

We will start with a dress that reminds me of my 1970s childhood. It's my favorite color, green, with hippie embroidery. It looks so comfortable and pretty and perfect for a Montana summer.

This dress comes from Sahalie. I have a couple of other dresses bought on clearance from this place. They are easy to wear and always look good. I got them for like $20 each. This one, uh, costs a little more. Hey, if it were cheap I would just sneak it in to the monthly expenses.

While you are there at Sahalie, dear birthday fairy, I could use one of these for my wild hair. Have I mentioned how my post-35 hair bends in all kind of funky directions, which is disconcerting for a girl whose hair used to be stick-straight? And how I hate styling my hair? It's so boring. It takes up so much time that I would rather spend on other things. And yet I hate how it looks when I don't do anything.

Please bring it in pink. And if you want to bring me a black one and a white one, that would also be excellent. See, that could so be me, with the dangly earrings and the sun-kissed cheeks and the cute thing on my head.

Especially when I am in California this summer. Have I mentioned I am going to California this summer? I'm super excited.

One more fabulous item from Sahalie. This is a dream item. I will most likely still be dreaming of it next Christmas.

But look at these boots.

I got black Martino boots for Christmas from my thoughtful husband (after I thoughtfully sent him the link and let him know that these would be required in order for me to have a satisfying holiday). They do not disappoint. They fit like a dream and even accommodate my, ahem, more than athletic calves.

I need brown for other outfits. I was straitly trained by my father, no less, that one should not wear black shoes with brown clothing. It's ingrained in me. Way down deep. So this is a need, not a want. Maybe it will go on sale with summer coming? I could wear boots all summer long in Montana.

All right, moving on. I also need an Amazon gift card, because there is all kinds of new music that I urgently need.

First of all, a new album from Ari Hest, about whom I am still embarrassingly crushy.Did I tell you that when G and I went to see him live in Berkeley I was so crushy I couldn't really talk to him? And he talks to people at his shows.  Yeah, I'm a dork.

Ari has previewed a lot of music from this album on YouTube if you want to check it out.

He's also touring this spring. If he's close to you, dear Birthday Fairy, I really think you should go. In spite of my shyness, I'm awfully glad we drove from Merced to Berkeley for his show in November 2009. Unfortunately a Montana date does not appear to be on the list (shocker) and since I can't even afford to download MP3s this spring I'm sure you can understand I can't quite manage a trip to Denver (this weekend - sniff sniff!) or Seattle.

Guess who else has a new album? My other guitar-boy crush, Lenny Kravitz. Lenny, why is your new album not on Amazon? Will you get on that? I don't like downloading from iTunes. I think they're communists, which is how my husband's family tends to describe successful capitalists or anyone else who wants their money, especially if they don't provide a particularly satisfying product. (I still have a cheap Sansa mp3 player that works great, and iTunes won't sync to it, plus I resent digital rights management. I'm no criminal.)

Moving entirely out of the crush category (trust me) but more than securely in the we-are-not-worthy musical amazingness category, Paul Simon has a new album that will be out two weeks before my big day. I will need to be getting that.

The first single, "Getting Ready for Christmas Day" came out before the holidays. Those smart marketing people. It's not really a Christmas song, exactly, but it's really good. You can hear it here on YouTube.

Seriously, though, you should not even need to hear a single to know that a new Paul Simon album is going to be worth your music buck. It's Paul freaking Simon. Who has never made a bad song. That is all you need to know.

I also need some lumber and supplies to build cold frames for my garden.

And I need my piano tuned and my dog groomed.

That will do. Thank you, birthday fairy.

I wish you were real.

The latest

A short time ago I heard from a dear friend, our next door neighbor in our married-student-housing days at BYU. She expressed happiness to have found my blog, and I thought, oh, dear. I am not a very good blogger these days. Most of my thoughts go directly to facebook, posted in drive-by style, without too much thought. Also, that leaves out any broad view of what's happening in our family. So for my dear friend Patricia, and anybody else reading, here is the skinny.

Dr. G is in his second semester as a professor. He is working hard but not as busy as the first semester. His department intentionally gave him a lighter load to allow him to work on course development and research. This was very kind. It also allows him a little more family time, and we're all grateful for that. The first semester was really hard on everyone. He has won four small grants so far this year, as I posted earlier, and is working on a new research project on Georgetown Lake, Montana. That's where he is all week this week. At least it's in the 40s outside, not any colder. Maybe we're starting to feel just the edge of the aura of spring.

I am always finding myself with more brilliant ideas than I have capacity to follow through on. I'm trying hard to focus on what's really essential: caring for myself in mind, body and spirit; supporting the kids' education; helping others when I can. Then comes freelance work. Not saying I always succeed at making these my priorities - facebook wins way too often, and some days I feel like I'm failing at everything. But, I get back up again and usually things click along ok. I am enjoying a new church job, organizing activities for the Relief Society every other month and serving in the presidency of that organization. I miss the Primary kids but also love getting to know the adult women a lot better.

S is homeschooling still - it's hard to stay motivated at this time of year, but we keep going on the essentials and try to grab the occasional extracurricular educational experience when we can. Recently we loved an anti-tobacco presentation by Victor DeNoble. Great speaker with a very important message! He even showed monkey brains, real ones, which S termed "disgusting, but interesting." Yes, that about sums up monkey brains. S has been working with a new doctor and undergoing neurofeedback training to strengthen some of his challenging areas and prepare for seventh grade in public school this fall. It's a big commitment for us financially and time-wise, but G and I have felt really good about it as well as very grateful that we actually have the resources to do this for S. We think of it like braces for the brain! Of course he will probably need braces for his teeth sometime in the next few years, as well ... but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it! He is huge (5'4", 120 pounds) and still loves Legos, video games, and Scouts.

A is so close to finishing fourth grade, he can almost taste it! He has had a wonderful and supportive teacher this year (I love it when my kids get the more experienced teachers - they may not love them the most but I can tell there's a benefit to having done your job for a while!) and really enjoys being with his classmates and friends. All the little girls love him; he's so handsome and charming. He has an eye for one in particular, and fortunately is open with me about it; I constantly remind him that they should just be friends and not worry about "love stuff" right now! I am getting my big stick ready for the teen years. He is learning (from his mistakes) about homework habits and organization. Thank goodness we still have a couple months before the end of the year for him to prove himself and get ready for the next grade. Fourth is really a change and a challenge - that has been true for both my kids who have been there so far. A is taking guitar lessons, which he really enjoys, and loves to play sports and read novels. He's also active in Cub Scouts.

K has made a great breakthrough this year on reading. It's one of my favorite stages - when the kid is so excited to read that they read everything. Super cute. And then they realize that once they know how to put the pieces together, they can read anything - even big chapter books! So he's working on that, now. I have to give a little credit to Concerta. It has made a great difference for my bouncy little boy and let us see his true potential. He has a good little group of school friends with whom he plays after school. Darling little boys. K remains my skinny, scrawny one - still in a size 6. He's the only one of my kids to wear his age (as a clothing size) consistently. Will we get to size 7 by this summer? Seems unlikely at the moment. His favorite things are playing with his friends (Legos, action figures, you name it) video games, and dawdling in the mornings. Sorry, I just could not resist that. It's a bit of a crazy-maker for me. Love my little K. One of my favorite things is his habit of sitting on my lap at church. He used to have to do that or he could not sit. Now he is just used to it and I like it. It keeps me warm when the heat in the chapel is wonky (which is a lot).

Z is my joy and my challenge - such a wonderful snuggler, clever comedienne, cute little mommy to her dolls and the dog, and basically bored out of her mind with only two days of preschool a week. It is hard to keep up with how much input she needs, and she is pretty nasty about it when she's not getting what she needs! We try to have friends over frequently to help take the pressure off me, and get to the YMCA as much as possible so she can play with her friends  in the daycare there. Her hair is finally growing out from her self-inflicted pixie cut last summer. She is so cute. Really. This fall she will go to 4-day-a-week preschool. Is it evil to say I can't wait?

That leaves the dog. Well, she is a love mooch, and that is alternately cute and annoying. She is also a cheese mooch, literally obsessed with cheese, and that's only annoying. I still love taking her for walks, and I'm glad I can do it again after that kidney stone debacle. She stinks like dog, sheds like a maniac and needs her claws clipped. I feel like I don't know how to do the bathing or clipping, and G doesn't have time. I am thinking maybe next month I will take her to a groomer and watch how they do things. (I always think I am going to have spare money next month. Hahahaha.) She is a good doggie. We love her.

There you have it, a snapshot of our family as of today. Now I feel a little less guilty.

Belatedly

We will just call this a late Valentine post. I did do a big project to surprise Dr. G for Valentine's Day, but I neglected to write him my usual mushy card or letter. And this morning I was just thinking about how rad he is (that word is like a special gift for him that only he will get) , and now here I am blogging about it.

Last night he came home from taking S to Scouts and reminded me to put my van in the garage. I didn't do it. This morning I headed out, bracing myself to brush off snow and warm up a very frigid vehicle. It was one degree fahrenheit this morning. Cold.

Guess where my van was? In the garage. My man is the man.

He also fixes the toilets and leaves funny notes about it. Keeps my knives sharp. Does the dishes. Walks the dog. I am a well cared for woman.

He got a grant this week at work. He has gotten four little grants this year that start to add up to biggish money. He has applied for ... guess how many grants this year? Four. Smarty!

I love my Valentine!