Drama at the Meet

Yesterday I attended another track meet. I actually kind of enjoy going, even though they are eternally long. The weather was supposed to be nice, and I made all the arrangements necessary to make sure I could arrive at the meet before it started so I would be sure to see the sprint medley, which was scheduled as the first event. I gave Mauri options: come with me and her friend Lauren could come and we would stop by McDonald's on the way out and get happy meals with the awesome dragon prizes (they had gone to see the movie How to Tame Your Dragon on Wednesday, and had already collected one dragon). It really wasn't a bribe... just the only way I could make it to McD's that day. The second option was to stay home. It wouldn't be long before Shi would be home from school, then once she left for the play, Bill would be home soon after. With the allure of that happy meal dragon staring her in the face, Mar chose option 1.

The meet was about an hour away in Colorado Springs.  We grabbed the happy meals on the way out, then set off.  Not 20 minutes into the drive, one of the girls asked, "How much longer?"  Once we arrived at the meet, the girls debated whether or not to leave their sweatshirts in the car... it WAS a nice day.  I told them to bring them, just in case (remembering the last meet where I froze for 3 long hours).  The good news, we were there in time for the relay... and they started right on time.  Three teams scratched (they weren't there in time), but here is the final leg (and please just ignore my yelling... I'm such an embarrassing mom):

Good job, Lex!  Once that event was over, I was in for four long hours of a cold, sad, dramatic, sick-to-her-stomach, head-aching Mauri.  Lauren was cold too.  And bored.  Because Mauri was just no fun in that state of mind.  Lesson learned.  
Mauri + track meet = Misery.

Other drama at the meet:

We unknowingly sat by the loudest Mom/Grandma/Guardian and her two boys on the face of the planet.  After about 30 minutes of listening to her threaten those noisy boys nonstop in her even noisier voice, we politely shuffled to a new area.

My emotions were stirred as a girl named Grace ran the 1600.  She was double-lapped by the leading girls, and lapped by the rest.  She ran that final lap alone.  What were her coaches thinking??  People applauded as she crossed the finish line, then I watched as her coaches and teammates congratulated her... then walked away.  I hope it wasn't the kind of confidence killer that will affect her for the rest of her life.

Then, somewhere in the middle of the meet, a dad showed up and sat behind us.  I could never figure out exactly what school he was there to support, since he was hollering for everyone.  I overheard him say they had recently moved from Virginia and had no other family here in Colorado.  I was somewhat impressed with his support for all participants, but annoyed at the same time (especially since I was also dealing with dramatic Mauri).  I don't know how many times you can hear, "Way to go, way to go, Vista Ridge!" and "Looking good, looking good, Liberty!"  Seriously... he was cheering for them all.  In his loud, deep, penetrating, manly voice.  Right behind me.

Lexee ran the 400.  I was trying to take pictures over the very high chain link fence surrounding the track.

She was running in second place, but the third place girl was gaining.  I tried to watch the finish, but from my vantage point couldn't see if the other girl had edged her out.  Another Legend Mom said, "Lex took second.  I saw it."  When they announced the results, however, Lex had placed third.  I figured that the girl must have just barely beat her.  Maybe she leaned forward, or thrust her arm out... something.  As we were leaving I stopped by the posted result papers... blowing in the cold mountain wind.  I wanted to see how close it was.  The results showed that other girl had beat Lex by over a second.  No way.  I asked Lex about it.  She said, "Mom, I know I finished ahead of her."  I'm not saying the girl couldn't have beat her... I'm just saying that even I know it wasn't by THAT much.  Makes you just wonder, doesn't it?

Lauren's mom showed up with the requested blanket after a couple hours, but Mauri apparently wanted to play the misery martyr for a little bit longer and wouldn't get under it.  Sigh.  In Mauri's defense, though, she has a little temperature today.  So it wasn't all for show. 

After Lexee's final event, I headed for home with Mauri.  She slept in the back seat, avoiding the almost-running-out-of-gas dilemma.  I definitely cut it close. I had decided to go home the "back way," meaning a good 40 miles of country road with no gas stations in sight.  But we made it.  Drama over.

Going, Going...

Gone.

All that stuff has been cleared, sorted, and either thrown away, put in the donation bag, or put in it's proper place.  It didn't take that long.  Then I did this (it helped that I posted about it... I almost felt like I HAD to at least start):

I got the table and four chairs primed.  I only have four chairs to go... then I have to do the actual painting.  Okay, this is a big project.  Not one that will take less time than I thought after all.

Today I am back to the dentist.  With Mauri.  This has not been my month for coordinating those appointments.  You know how they usually schedule them 6 months out?  I have always tried to keep the appointments together to conserve time and energy, but I've run into a few snags this time.

Mauri really stresses over going to the dentist (she's like her mom... who - don't tell anyone - hasn't been to the dentist for a couple of years!).  She had her initial appt. on the 1st, and was thrilled to be told she had no cavities and would not need to endure the painful process of getting a cavity filled.  Yesterday morning, however, she let me know that, while eating a chocolate egg, a filling fell out.  Shilo was originally scheduled on the 1st, but needed to reschedule because of play practice, so her appt. is now on the 20th.  Lexee went on the 6th, at which we were asked to consult the ortho before returning to fill a small cavity on the 20th (but not at the same time Shilo will be there).  So I took Lex to the ortho on the 7th, and Mauri will be getting that filling fixed today.  So.... let's see... that's six trips to teeth specialists (all located in the same building) in less than a month.  And if Shilo needs to come back for any reason following her initial visit, it could raise to seven.  Talk about going... and going...

What to do?

Since this is what it looks like out my front door this morning,

and since my morning duties of getting Lexee, Bill and Shilo fed and out the door are complete (believe me, it's a long, busy process that starts at 5:30 and concludes around 7), I am considering my options for what to do with my day... until 2:45, after which it is all spoken for.

I would like to go climb back in bed and sleep for a couple of hours.  If I'm really quiet, off-track Mauri may sleep that long too.  It could be a nice, uninterrupted session of shut-eye catch-up.  Hmmmm....

I should go put on my workout clothes and get down on that treadmill.  Then, as I am huffing and sweating away I could see the need to take care of this little area of my life:

This is our catch-all table in the basement.  I usually clear it off about once a month... I think this stuff has been accumulating for a tad longer than that, though.  And the table is all sanded and ready for a new coat of black paint (I purchased the primer and paint about a year ago).  I keep thinking that if I just get the paintbrush and primer out and start, it will probably take less time than I think and I will spend the next year asking myself, "Why didn't I do that sooner?"  My goal is to make this table beautiful and replace my sad, worn-out table in the kitchen with it.  (Yes, they are actually the same table -- some friends of ours gave us theirs in exchange for a Chaparral card -- what a bargain!)  Then I want to take my table that is currently in the kitchen, sand it down, and paint it some crazy color like red.  Just for fun.

Maybe if I go back to bed, I will wake up with renewed energy to tackle the treadmill AND the table.  Hmmm... still thinking.  Tune in tomorrow to find out what I actually did with my day (motivation for me to be able to say I did something rather than nothing).

Tradition! Tradition!

Although hectic and busy as usual, it's been a weekend filled with family traditions.  And for some reason I have that song from The Fiddler on the Roof running through my head (it's got a catchy tune, don't you think?)... so I'll start with... 

The Papa.... the Papa!

Bill sat and listened to General Conference on Saturday, taking careful notes on the messages shared and spiritual promptings that he had.  In between sessions, he worked like a madman helping get the house in order (which means he dusted and wiped down the sofas -- a couple of my least favorite jobs) for our semi-annual Conference Sunday Luncheon.  He attended the Priesthood session alone, but with anticipation of attending the next one in six short months with his beloved son, Taylor.  Later that evening he assisted the Easter Bunny in finding places to hide the girls' baskets.  (Which, by the way, I have done the past few years... and can I just say, I'm better?  The girls found them in mere minutes this year.)

Tradition!

The Mama... the Mama!

On Saturday I attended Lexee's track meet in Windsor (only a 90 minute drive one-way), missing her first event because, of course, they were an hour ahead of schedule (when does THAT happen?).  I stood in the very cold and windy weather for three hours (getting a nice sunglass sunburn... you know, raccoon eyes) before heading for home with Lex in tow.  That evening I couldn't resist watching The Ten Commandments while I made and cleaned up dinner.

I think I watched it because it reminded me of my childhood.  This was one of two shows that we were allowed to watch on Sunday while I was growing up (we had a "no Sunday TV" rule).  It was such a treat when it (or The Sound of Music) came on and we could spend the evening in front of the television.  And I absolutely loved when the Red Sea parted... the intense walk through the middle... the Egyptian army coming after them... what a thrill.  Mauri watched it with me until she fell asleep.  Bill and I recorded the end (she missed the whole Red Sea part!) so she could finish it at her convenience.

On Sunday I arose early to put the ham in the oven and start preparing for the luncheon, which we have held every conference since we've lived in CO.  We invite various ward members over for lunch and socializing in between the two sessions on Sunday.  The group changes here and there, but there are a few families (3 of our neighbors and some good friends) that are there almost every time.  After the first session (loved it), people began arriving and a yummy lunch of ham and cheesy potatoes (Tradition! - for Easter) and various pot-luck sides and desserts was consumed.  I told Bill we were taking pictures (we never have), but we all got too involved in our discussions of conference talks and life in general.  One exciting bit of news... our recently released Stake President was called and sustained as an area Seventy.  It's pretty neat to hear the name of someone you actually know... over the pulpit... at General Conference.  Afterwards we listened to the last session of conference, then talked about how we can improve as a family in some of the areas mentioned.  We decided that we need to share our testimonies more, and have decided to make that the focus of our FHE lesson as we rotate it each week.  Whoever is giving the lesson will choose a gospel principle they have a strong testimony of, then share a message about that topic, concluding with their testimony.  Shilo's turn is tomorrow night.

Tradition!

The son... the son!

We miss Taylor but it's comforting to know he is hearing the same messages from the leaders of the church that we are, at the same time we are hearing them.  It is truly wonderful to live in an age where communication is so available (it would be so hard not to have that weekly email... and it's so immediate.  Not the one-month span of time between writing and receiving an answer that Bill dealt with back in the day).  A friend of mine said that when her sons served missions (she has 3 RMs), she would count Fast Sundays until they returned rather than days because that made her feel not as overwhelmed by the length of time they would be gone.  It's a more manageable number -- 24 vs. 730.  I decided that I would count General Conferences (even more manageable!).  4 down, 0 to go.  Now just to get the next 5 1/2 months to fly by...  according to Elder Syddall, the time is flying by.

Tradition!

The daughters... the daughters!

They colored eggs (and cracked a few in the process)

and got their baskets ready for the Bunny.

Sunday morning they hunted them down in record time.

After conference, we measured their growth.  Our measuring post is in the basement, which is a good excuse for not getting it finished, don't you think?

Youngest to oldest (Tradition!)...

Mauri was thrilled with her 1" growth since last conference, 2" in the past year.  She's now as tall as Shilo was at age 7.

Speaking of which, Shilo was next.

Wow!  That girl has grown 3 inches in the past year.  She's the same height Taylor was at age 14.  
And she's less than an inch away from Lexee...

... who doesn't want to grow any more... and nervously awaited the results of the accurate measuring of her father...

...to find out that she has only grown 1/2 inch the past year. She's about 1/8 inch away from the last mark we have for Britt (who I don't think we've measured since April '09 -- but hasn't grown much since, if any. When we met her down in Las Vegas, we measured her and Lex back-to-back... it was darn close and we even thought Lex looked a little taller. Since neither of those girls ever wear heels, maybe Lex had on higher flip-flops?).

It's so fun to measure every 6 months and compare and congratulate the kids on the growing they've done.

As for Britta... we Skyped her this week... asked some serious questions and talked for over an hour.  
I stole this pic off of her facebook today (I'm so sneaky):

...higher education... independent living... roommates... friends... boyfriend... we miss her too!

Tradition!

Check the Box

Mauri was invited to an egg hunt at my next-door neighbor's house, so yesterday I climbed into our crawl space (which initially I thought was a pointless use of space but it has become something I recognize as extremely useful) to dig into the Easter storage box and get the plastic eggs to fill for the hunt.  Since I haven't been in the Easter supplies since last year, I was pleasantly surprised to find a new box of egg lights that I had purchased AFTER the holiday last year at my local grocery store.  

Since Easter is only a couple of days away, I figured that I needed to get those lights hung so at the very least we could feel somewhat festive for a few days.  I put the box on the kitchen counter and went to filling the plastic eggs with candy for the hunt.

A few hours later, Bill spots the box and opens them up.  This is what was inside:

You would think I would have remembered to check the box before my purchase.   I am the kind of shopper that digs to the bottom box at Costco to get the produce with the newest date (my last trip there I sense some hostility in the refrigerated area from the produce guy).  I look through the cereal and bread to make sure I get the freshest product.  I carefully look over items in boxes to find the one that looks the most well-cared for.  And if I find a damaged package and it's my only option, you can bet I ask for a discount at the register.  

Bill, trying to remedy the situation in his usual problem-solving way, said, "We have other strands of clear lights we can use."  Yeah... 100 count strands.  We only have nine eggs.  Hmmmm.

But I know that Easter will come, just the same -- the Grinch who took my cord and light can't ruin the true meaning for me.  
And can I just say, I LOVE Easter on Conference Sunday?  I can't wait.

Cleaning House After a Blizzard

One bathroom is clean.  The floor is ready to be mopped.  On his way out the door for work this morning Bill said, "I read your blog... so you're excited to clean today?"  Uh.... no.  I told him I was excited that the results might be longer lasting, but that I really wasn't that excited to spend my day cleaning.  I mean, I've done the same cleaning job for over 22 years.  I'm just getting plain tired of doing it over and over.  I'm starting to tell myself that just one more day before something gets clean really won't matter.  And I may as well leave those dinner dishes in the sink, because I'll just have more in the morning... why not just merge the two jobs into one?

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing I like more than a clean, organized home.  But it's just dang hard to be motivated to do it ALL THE TIME (which I have come to the conclusion it would take to keep my house at the level of cleanliness I would like).  I mentally congratulate myself on how I've grown to be so flexible with my rigorous cleaning schedule.  Company motivates me... anyone up for a visit?

Regardless of the fact that no one is coming to visit in the near future, my cleaning clothes are on and some of that dirt is going.  Today.

And although getting dirty is always easier (and more fun), it feels great to say good-bye to the grime.

As for my diet...

I couldn't resist our traditional after-the-dentist stop at Dairy Queen with Mauri yesterday.  And I had a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for a blizzard.  I mean, could I just pass up getting a free blizzard?  And boy was it delicious.  (And, I reminded myself, a DQ employee once told me that their ice cream is low fat... hmmmm... I choose to believe it.)  Today, I'm sure, I will have the resistance needed to pass up the diet-blowing opportunities.  Hey, Britt, you can have some of mine.

Blog break over -- where's the mop?

Nice Horsey

Remember how back in January I said I was back in the saddle? (If you need a refresher, go here.) And you know how just when you think something is going well, or you feel that you finally have it together, it all falls apart? I think I fell out of that saddle the very next day. No kidding. I got sick. I got behind. I didn't exercise. I scrambled just to get through each day -- and not always gracefully. I forgot Mauri's piano lessons two weeks in a row. And I resorted back to numerous YOYO nights, which at our house usually means Pasta Roni. It has not been pretty. But now... today... April 1st... I am feeling once again that I am at least back on the horse. And that's no foolin'.

My house is somewhat messy, and in need of some cleaning, but we finally got our water softener hooked up (after it sat in our basement, unused, for over 8 years), and for some reason, that is motivating me to clean.  Now maybe those lousy hard-water spots and rings-around-the-tub will go away.  And I won't need to put vinegar in the dishwasher to keep my glasses sparkly.  So today (in my random spare moments, which may not be many) and tomorrow (a few more spare moments than today) I will be cleaning.  Excited that at the very least, the things I clean will appear to be clean longer.  I also appreciate having the use of water... whenever I need it.  Because yesterday, when those workers were here from 8am to 1pm, I didn't have water.  I couldn't do the dishes, I couldn't mop the floor, I couldn't do the laundry, and I couldn't shower.  Running water is a blessing worth counting, believe me.

I have also been exercising this week.  Feels good to feel good enough to do it.  And I'm back to working on that dinner goal, and am proud to say that I've made a nice well-rounded dinner three nights in a row.  One was a new recipe -- my kids didn't care for it -- so I ripped the recipe out of my book so I don't forget and make it again.  So even though it wasn't a favorite, it was a productive learning experience.

So I'm not feeling so sure of myself this time.  I hope I'm done with being sick (although allergy season is fast approaching and benedryl is the medication that works the best for me, but it sure makes me sleepy.  Some years are better than others, however, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a good year).  I hope the horse is kind to me, and allows me to stay in the saddle for a while.  

Nice horsey.