Life is Sweet

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Laboring

For Labor Day, I labored. Not in a female-only/maternal-natured/child-delivering way. Just in a good old-fashioned mom's-got-two-jobs kind of way. It's a long story, and believe me, I have some experiences to share, but I have to get ready for work. After today, things should get back to normal, and (hopefully) I'll have time to post more regularly.

Until then, for your enjoyment, I thought I would share a few more honeymoon photos. You can talk to Bill about his awesome sense of fashion next time you see him.

I think I have detachable shoulder pads in my In-N-Out shirt. I thought those were the best invention ever. And those wayfarers? So with it, even today.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Cooling Off

After school today (okay, not really. Mauri didn't have school. But she did have an assessment, which lasted for a good 50 minutes, so I'm counting it), Mauri and I met friends at the Southlands fountains to spend a lazy afternoon. The cool thing is, this is the exact spot where the ice rink is in the winter.

So either way, it's a place to cool off.

The water was cold, and the day was mild(ish), especially around 5:30 or 6:00 pm when the shadows started growing longer and longer. And despite a few minor injuries for Mar (a bug in the eye, and an accidental self-inflicted knee to the nose), a good time was had by all. Once the big boys started coming out to play (those rowdy teenager types), we decided to call it a day and head for home. Sending summer out with a splash.

And September? Probably the best month ever. I love it when the nights (and days... eventually) get cooler, and the holiday season is just around the corner. Attending the first high school football game was rejuvenating (even though our team had a heartbreaking loss in the last minute and a half of the game... and I roasted like a rotisserie chicken). I think that the fall season in general gives me renewed energy. I am definitely looking forward to good things to come.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Cold Front

Today was the first football game of the season for LHS.

On the news this morning there was a lot of talk about the cold front moving in. Fifteen degrees colder than yesterday. I was grateful for the sweater I wore to work as I stood out at recess and witnessed children scantily dressed for 90+ temps, shivering away.

Just keep running, keep on running, don't stop running.

And when I met my friend Steph for lunch, we selected to stay inside due to the chill in the air. I had told Lex this morning that she better be sure and take her warm-ups to the game. If one cheerleader doesn't have them, none of them can wear them. She would hate to be the reason they all froze to death. She couldn't find her warm-up pants before school, so once I arrived home, I searched her closet (they were hanging right where they were supposed to be, new tags still attached), and ran to the school to put them in her car so she could get to the game on time. Then I came home to change.

I put on my jeans. The ones that give me a major muffin-top. (I'll have to share the story of the purchase someday... but I'm warning you, it's lengthy.) It wouldn't matter, since I would for sure be wearing my Titan hoodie to camouflage the muffin. I had one of those skin-hugging Shade shirts underneath. Layers are good in cool weather, you know. Should I bring my blanket? I wondered. Since the game would most likely be over before dusk, I decided to risk it and leave it home. I felt ready. Prepared. Some of those spectators may end up like those chilled Kindies from earlier in the day. Shivering. Underdressed. Wishing for warmth. But not me. I've spent too many football games too hot or too cold. I've learned from my mistakes. I patted myself on the back for remembering a water bottle, too.

Once we were seated in the stadium, facing the oh-so-slowly setting sun on heat-conducting light-reflecting metal bleachers, I realized that the forecasted cold front had not arrived. It was hot. My friend Rebecca said she felt like a lizard, baking on a rock. And she didn't have a hoodie on. Or dark muffin-topping jeans. And unless I wanted to reveal the muffin to the world, that hoodie needed to stay on. Which it did. Needless to say, I was overdressed for the second time in a week.

But it didn't hold me back from cheering those Titans on. I told Lex after the game that only a few students turned around to see who was sharing the school spirit so loudly. And this is what her dad was doing:

Honestly, we try to be as embarrassing as possible. Which also means we had to take some pictures.

And just to clarify, these are NOT their cheer uniforms. After we were seated at the game, a lady came and sat in the row just down and over from me. I heard her say, "Those sure aren't very cute cheer uniforms." Of course I had to set her straight (as politely as possibly), so I told her they were really just one of their practice outfits. I bet she hated that I heard her. And that she happened to be sitting in a throng of cheer parents. Maybe she was thinking something like, "Yeah, and you're so overdressed."

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Home Again, Home Again

My nephew Josh is coming home today from his 2 year mission (+) in Kyiv, Ukraine, for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It's so gosh darn exciting. I am excited for him, excited for his family, and excited because you know what THAT means... Taylor will be home soon too.

Jiggity Jig.

Taylor and Josh have been as close as two cousins can be that have lived miles apart for most of their lives. They were born 10 days apart, and were blessed on the same day.

Taylor and Josh at age 1.

They were even baptized on the same day (which was a memorable weekend, let me tell you. Our van was stolen the day before -- long story -- so we made the trip to Grandma's church building in Bountiful crammed in our Chevy Celebrity that lacked air conditioning. But it all turned out fine. I could have used this message back then.)

Luckily, these two cousins also got to see each other in passing at the MTC.

Taylor went in the MTC about two months after Josh, but Josh was there for 12 weeks studying the Ukrainian language. Josh could have been home a couple of weeks ago, but he stayed for the dedication of the Kyiv, Ukraine temple this past weekend.

Welcome home, Josh!

Monday, August 30, 2010

It's A Small World

The last (and only) time I went on that iconic Disneyland attraction was back in 1988. On my honeymoon. We took pictures, but I chopped them all up to put in some pretty cool scrapbooks, and the negatives are tucked in a box patiently waiting to be digitized. But this picture was taken on the same day,

so you can clearly see that it was a very long time ago.

The next two times we visited Disneyland, Small World was closed. But once you have been through it, you can never forget the sentiment that it's a small, small world, if you know what I mean.

So, like I mentioned last week, I started a new job. The first day, I reported to the Special Education teacher who had interviewed me. She handed me a schedule for the week, which is where I discovered that I would be spending half of my working day with the best kindergarten teacher ever. How did I know? Because I know her. She's in my ward. We've served in YW together. I knew she taught kindergarten, but had forgotten (or did I ever know?) that she was working at that particular school (which is only in it's second year -- I think). What a pleasant surprise. And yes, it's a small world.

A little later in the week, I was at the high school taking pictures of the cheer team for locker tags. As things were wrapping up, I saw the mom of one of the kids I work with walking into the school... wait a minute... my friend (the kindergarten teacher) had mentioned that this little boy was Mormon... what was his last name again? It started with a C... it hit me. This connection will take some 'splainin', so try to follow:

Years ago (1996 to be exact), on a sunny day in June (the 13th to be exact), I was in the hospital preparing to give birth to what I believed would be another daughter. As I was patiently waiting (epidural placed, of course), Bill came in and said, "I just ran into this guy from my work... his wife is having a baby today too."

"Cool," I replied. Then we got back to the business of the day, and Shilo was born.

It was tradition in our family for Bill to video-tape our babies' first bath, which he did. Once Shilo was clean and fresh and tucked into her hospital nursery bed, Bill taped a few minutes of his work buddy and his daughter (also sleeping soundly in the nursery).

Fast forward to the summer of 2009. Bill and I went with the girls from our Stake on the 4th year hike. We were assigned a group of about 9 girls (Lexee included). We hiked, we camped, we got our group lost and ended up taking the long way to the next camp for the night. You know, good memories (now that it's over). We got to know the girls, six of which were from wards other than our own. One of the girls was named Maryn (pronounced ma-RIN)... oh, I told her, I liked that name, in fact I had almost named one of my girls Maren (MAIR-en).

"Oh, I can't stand the name Maren. If you call me Maren, I won't answer you." I made a mental note, and made sure NOT to say her name incorrectly.

When school was ready to start that year, we attended the seminary fireside, where, crazy enough, Bill ran into that guy... the one from work AND the hospital years back. He was Maryn's dad. We chuckled together over the funny fact that we had daughters born on the same day. We found out that they were in our stake. Lexee and Maryn were PE locker partners that year.

This year at the seminary fireside, Bill figured out who Maryn's younger sister was (the one from the hospital), and, being the friendly, outgoing, in-your-face-kind-of-guy he sometimes is, he went up to her and said, "I know when your birthday is... we have you on video tape when you were a baby..." She smiled politely, but seemed to want to be chatting with friends, rather than with some old guy she didn't know. Lexee knew Maryn's sister had tried out for cheerleading, and had made the JV team.

So when I saw the mom of the little boy I had been working with all week at the high school on cheer picture day,

the connections started connecting (it takes me awhile). I had never met her before (at least before Monday, when she didn't seem happy at all that her son was on the 3rd or 4th EA only a couple weeks into the school year). So the next day, at the end of class, I said, "Hey, I know your family... I went on the 4th year hike with Maryn... your daughter's on the JV cheer team, right?" She gave me the "That's YOU?" and we chatted briefly. I think maybe she felt a little more comfortable leaving her youngest child with me after that (at least I hope). Small world.

And today, after class, Maryn's mom asked another EA (the one that told me I looked nice on Friday) if she was so-and-so's sister (she was). Hey, I know her. She's a fellow cheer mom too... her daughter and Lexee have been on the same team since their freshman year. Crazy small, that's what I say.

Finally, on a sad note, my sister lives in the stake where the bishop was senselessly shot and killed Sunday in CA. She knows the family personally. Her family was out of town eagerly anticipating the arrival of her oldest son home (kind of) from his mission on Tuesday. They had to meet him in SLC because he will be starting back at BYU on Wednesday (a very speedy transition). It's too bad that she has to feel shock and devastation in addition to the emotional roller coaster I'm sure she's already on. What a horrible tragedy. The family of the bishop, their ward, and stake members are in our prayers. I can't imagine dealing with something like that. And it just feels too close to home.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Things I've Learned: New Jobs

A few things I've learned from my first week of employment:

1. Be firm and in control. I've found that I ask too many questions, like, "Will you please pick that up?" and "Can you keep your hands to yourself please?" After getting a few too many NO's (verbal and non), I realized what I was doing. I watched the seasoned professionals around me. They demanded, not asked, but in a nice sort of way. "Pick that up, my friend, or you will not get choice time today" and "You are in _________'s personal space. Please keep your hands to yourself." I think this technique will come in handy someday. If it's too late to work on my kids, I'll use it on the grandkids, or maybe a dog.

Britta in Kindergarten... such a totally awesome age.

2. We are teaching children to be independent, not dependent. Since I work with a couple of special needs kids, I am soooooooo tempted to just lend a helping hand. You know, carry stuff for them, put stuff away for them, and pretty much do whatever I can to make life easier for them. But I have been reminded that the real purpose is to help them learn to do it themselves. It's a tricky thing, since I don't want to add to any discouragement they may already feel. They are only kindergartners, after all, and they still have a long road ahead. Then I come home to my fully functioning children, who are perfectly capable of doing many (if not all) things for themselves, and who, for some reason, think mother should pick up their stuff, put their stuff away, and pretty much act as a personal assistant. I've been an enabler. But not for long. This can be changed. This can be corrected. Starting asap.

Mauri at her Kindergarten meet-the-teacher with Mrs. Klenovich, who will very likely be Mauri's 5th grade teacher next year as well. From personal experience, I think she's probably better at teaching older kids. I'm trying to keep an open mind about it all.

3. Children are exhausting. Even though my hours couldn't be any more perfect than they are, I still come home feeling like I just spent 3 hours in the nursery at church. And if you recall, I do spend just under 2 hours in the nursery every Sunday, so I know what I'm talking about. For the past year and a half I have come home from church ready for a nap. And work's about the same, although I've only taken one nap all week, since I still have my mom duties that need to be performed. Needless to say, I'm ready for bed every night at 9.

Mauri's first day of Kindergarten.

4. Casual Fridays are alive and well. Only I didn't get the memo. In fact, I haven't been trained at all, just thrown into the non-stop mix of students, teachers, and class schedules. So far it's been a learn-as-you-go job. But I'm intelligent (I keep reminding myself) and experienced with children (or so I thought), I'm sure I'll pick it all up eventually. Official school district training happens this upcoming Wednesday, so hopefully I will feel informed on things like time clocks, expectations, and school dress policy. And if you were wondering, yes, I was totally overdressed today. Every teacher I saw was in jeans and tee shirts, and there I was in my dry-clean-only dress pants, a nice polyester top layered over a shade shirt, and heels. Short heels, but heels. While out at recess, a fellow SSN EA (Specialized Severe Needs Educational Assistant) said, "You look so nice today." I couldn't tell if she was mocking me, or just politely bringing up the subject so she could discreetly inform me that it's okay to dress down... at least on Fridays. Next week, I'll be wearing jeans. Or leggings. Something obviously casual.

Ready to head into class. Favoritism again, you ask? No, just the only pics on file. SOMEDAY I'll get a boatload of scanning done, I promise.

5. Not all music teachers can sing. I'm sure the male music teacher at the particular school I work at is musically inclined in some way, but after a week of music time, I have yet to see it. I'm not sure he can even carry a tune. We sang the longest rendition ever of I Saw A Bear (thanks to the assistance of an accompanying picture book, that stretched it farther than I've ever imagined possible) TWICE this week. I'm trying to cut him some slack, since he is working with new kindergarteners, but it's a hint something's off when several kids cover their ears and cringe when he sings. His singing voice is extremely high for a man. Maybe that's what got him the job.

There you have it, the nuts and bolts of the new information I've collected this week. I'm learning. I really hope to be the best darn SSN EA ever. Aim high, that's my motto (not to be confused with my Git 'er done mantra).

And a funny side note from yesterday: at the "family meeting" during Back-to-School night Mauri said,

"Mr. Legg controls everything. He practically runs the school."

Mr. Legg is on the left, Mr. Muma is on the right. Who is in control?

The funny part: Mr. Legg is the librarian, Mr. Muma is the principal.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Sickeningly Sweet

This evening I went with Mauri to her Back-to-School night... I know, I know, so unfair of me as a parent to favor one child over others (remember I skipped the high school one?). It was very important to Mauri that I attend. She had some writing to share with me (actually, she wanted to share everything she's written since starting 4th grade -- I had to rein her in).

Honestly, it was a good time. She suggested we ride our scooters, so even though it's been a very hot day, we grabbed the scooters and off we went.

After spending some time in the classroom, we attended the "family meeting" in the gym. Really, it's a parent meeting, but what else are you going to do with all those kids excited to show off their classrooms and schoolwork, and all their younger siblings tagging along with them? So just go ahead and call it a family meeting, and talk over all the ruckus and hope your presentation can be heard and understood. Some pretty radical new ideas in the way of grading were presented... it should be interesting to see if all the theories work out. And I heard the word "kiddos" until it made me queasy. I don't mind someone using a term of endearment like that occasionally, but not twenty times in the same sentence. Too sickeningly sweet. Like you're trying to cover up what you really think of them.

Then we hopped on those scooters and rode home.

My behind will probably be killing me tomorrow.

And speaking of sickeningly sweet, I had a hankering for something like that when we got home. I thought of my old standby: No Bake Cookies. Then I remembered that I told my friend Steph I would get her the recipe, which I haven't done. So I'll post it, for all to enjoy. But only after sharing my childhood memories of these little gems.

When I was very young, no-bakes were like candy. The secret treat my brother, sister and I would cook up when my parents were "out" for the evening. We had it down to a science... almost. Of course, when we made them, they were not to share, but were a personal treat for the person willing to pull out the ingredients, mix them in a bowl, and nuke 'em in the micro. We would cut the recipe by a double half, so it was the perfect amount for personal indulgence. After a while, we didn't need a recipe... we would just eyeball it. Sometimes they turned out, sometimes they didn't. Then we would take our cereal bowl of goodness, grab a spoon, and eat until we were nauseous. Most times we would carefully hide the evidence of our gluttony, but occasionally, on a lazy night, we would stuff our half-eaten bowl of hard, over-nuked chocolate/butter/milk/sugar and oat mixture under the sofa, to be pulled out during a thorough cleaning, possibly months later. Those were good times.

After I got married, I tried making no-bakes a few times, but they never turned out. I couldn't figure out why, but after a few failed attempts, I moved on to something I could make (but as I sit here and try to think what that could have been, I'm drawing a blank. Maybe I just resorted to cheap treats like those delicious Otter Pops I ate non-stop while pregnant with Taylor. I still wonder to this day if that little obsession led to his never-ending dental and orthodontia issues.) Then one day, my neighbor Steph Padilla brought over some of her No Bake Cookies. They were just as I had remembered the very best batches turning out when I was young. I asked for her recipe.

So now, I make Steph Padilla's No-Bake Cookies quite regularly. When I obtain a recipe from someone, I rename it, probably because I am such a sentimental nut. For example, I have recipes for Lori Weintz's Brownies, Heather Lawrence's PF Changs Lettuce Wraps, Jill Feil's Eclair Cake, Heather McKinlay's Corn Bean Salsa, Nancy McAliney's French Toast Souffle, Robyn Syddall's Cornflake Cookies, and Mom's Whole Wheat Waffles, just to name a few. And seriously, these are some of my all-time favorites. And I love that whenever I pull out one of those recipes, I remember with great fondness the person I got it from. So even though I've completely lost contact with Steph, she is in my thoughts on a regular basis. And I'm grateful for her recipe, which has brought me much comfort and cheer. So, to the business of passing it along to another good friend named Steph, who can choose to name it whatever she pleases.

Steph Padilla's No-Bake Cookies

Mix in pan:

1/2 cup milk

1 cube butter or margarine

1 Tbs. cocoa powder (I add 2... cocoa's good for you, you know, flavenoids)

2 cups sugar (not so good for you, but oh so sweet)

Bring to a boil for 1 minute. Take off heat and add:

3 cups oatmeal (I prefer old-fashioned rolled, not quick)

1 tsp. vanilla

Dash of salt

3/4 cup peanut butter (optional -- I sometimes use less, but I think the addition of some PB helps them set up nicely)

Stir until mixture loses it's gloss. (I don't usually stir until it "loses it's gloss"-- too much work -- but just until they start to feel a little stiff as you stir.) Drop by teaspoonfuls onto foil. Makes 4 to 5 dozen cookies.

The only thing that can make these better:

It balances the sweetness of the cookies. When you start to feel nauseous, just swig half a glass, and you're good for a couple more. Delish.