Wars and Razors

Lexee came home last night from "the best Mutual activity ever" looking like this:

She had changed her shirt, since it was all wet from running through the sprinklers after the
paint war.

It was a Priest/Laurel activity, so she had been joined at the ankle to a nice young man in our ward.  It doesn't hurt that it was a young man her mother would be happy for her to marry... someday.  (I'm going to get in trouble for writing that, btw.)

And Mauri experienced a first:  shaving her legs.  Before I hear gasps of shock and dismay that I would either encourage or assist my youngest child in growing up way too fast, she STILL has hair on her legs.  They were so darn hairy that we didn't get it all.  I have sworn her to secrecy, so as not to start the gossip going in the 4th grade.  She's begged pleaded asked for several months for me to help her with it.  And she does possess her father's hairy genetic tendencies.  Unlike her big brother, who remained practically hairless until he graduated high school.  And I didn't want her to find some random razor (of which we have plenty around here), and do it herself.  She might end up like I did after my first leg-shaving attempt:  blood flowing like rivers down each leg, eventually morphing into long, dark scabs along the entire length of my shins.  (Yes, I had attempted both legs before realizing that I was using a little too much pressure.)  Embarrassing AND painful.  Hopefully it takes a good long time for that hair to grow back.  

Resume Building

The last two posts have started with, "I got up this morning and..."  I know.  Not creative OR interesting.  Boring.  So today, I'm not going to tell you what I did when I got up this morning.  I'm not even going to tell you what I did when I got up yesterday morning.  I'm not going to say I got a new job working at a nearby elementary school for three hours (seriously... the PERFECT amount of time) from 9am to noon (the perfect time of day), assisting some pretty darn cute special needs kids.  And that although it's been stressful (because seriously, I haven't had an official job for so long I had absolutely NOTHING to put on a resume except for classroom volunteer, cheer parent volunteer, and YW organization leadership... oh, and I have a cosmetology license, which is only good if you want to practice cosmetology and update your skills and pay overhead or booth rental and spend long hours on your feet trying to please people that really want anybody's hair but their own), I think it's going to work very nicely.  I mean, I am only sacrificing computer and TV time, really.  And I'll get a paycheck.  Meager, but money nonetheless.  Plus it gives me a great reason to get out of my PJ's before noon (or 1... or 3...).  Wish me luck.

But I still have the OCD desire to post.  Even though I'm boring.  Plus, I tell myself, this is for posterity.  Not for entertainment.  I blog with purpose.

So today I'm posting about signs.  Not traffic signs.  Not sign language.  Not the signs of the times.  But cheer signs.  I recently completed Lexee's yard sign.  She had one last year, which was very similar, but this year, we (the parents) made them better.  They are more Legend-y blue (really, about the only difference).  They are meant to last for as long as a girl participates in cheer at LHS.  (I won't tell you how Lexee has been chatting a lot lately about how she might not try out next year, so that little added bonus of being able to re-use it until graduation may not come to pass.)  So here it is:

I worked very hard to capture a sparkle... can you see it there on bottom of the L?  And we (the parents) had plenty of discussion about how to place our child's graduation year (start at the bottom and have it go up, or start at the top and have it go down), so if you think it's wrong, just know we spent a darn lot of time making the call.  But I need to say, these are the best signs around.

So then I just had to show you Britta's sign:

This was in the yard for a good 3 years, which is why it looks so weathered and sun-bleached.

That made me think of all the other signs I've helped to make while being that supportive cheer parent (remember... I put it on my resume).  Britta used to have to make a poster for school sports as part of tryouts.  The girls would be assigned a sport, given the poster paper, and then they would turn it in on the first day of the tryout clinic.  These posters would be used throughout the year during the various sports seasons (even if you didn't make the team). This was one of our first posters:

The next year we made this one:

Lexee's team doesn't do sports posters this way, so we haven't had to make any of these babies for a long time.  Thank heavens.  But I've made a couple of team posters for her:

Those there are some resume builders, let me tell you.  

JK.

Are You There?

I got up this morning and watched this little message:

Which reminded me of this post I read a few days ago, that even prompted me to comment (which I sometimes think is a little weird... commenting to someone you don't know like you're a best girlfriend offering your thoughts and advice).  Then I thought about the weekend.

Yes, I went to the ward campout.  For about 3 1/2 hours.  And I have pictures to prove it.

Lexee couldn't come due to an intense weekend of cheer choreography, and Shilo didn't want to stay the night, so I planned to head home after dinner and the program.  Bill and Mauri would stay.

We managed to squeeze Mauri's bike into the car (she was willing to sit in the middle seat with a tire over her head for the trip there), so we didn't see a lot of her the first few hours after we arrived.

Shilo and Cheyenne spent a lot of their time helping the younger kids on the zip line.

Bill arranged his and Mauri's sleeping arrangements for the evening:

Then we ate dinner, sat around the fire,

and enjoyed the talent show/skit program.

Mauri and her friend Lauren had planned a not-so-magic show for a skit, but since the program turned out to be more of a talent show(singing and playing instruments... one family showed up with drums, a keyboard, percussion instruments, and a guitar), and less of an open-stage skit night, they decided their comedic attempt would possibly not be appreciated.


Afterwards, I headed back home, to sleep comfortably in my own bed.  The next morning I was up to take Lex to her practice (30 minutes away and she hates to drive by herself in unfamiliar territory), and get a few things done around the house.

So what does this have to do with the Mormon Message from this morning?

It has helped remind me again how much I appreciate my husband.  After he and Mauri got home on Saturday, he told me about the great one-on-one time they were able to have together.  He was willing to bring the bike, sleep (very uncomfortably, it turns out) overnight at the campout, and spend Saturday morning-into-midday doing what she wanted to do:  hiking, nature-observing, and eating at Sonic.  He listened to her talk (and that girl's a talker, let me tell you).  He gave her his undivided attention.

And I got a little one-on-one with both Lexee and Shilo.  And when those girls talk, I try to extend the conversation as long as possible.  I have been reminded and motivated to make sure I am truly listening...  giving my full attention.

4 1/2 more weeks, and I'll have another opportunity to practice.  (Just in case you weren't aware.)