Saturday, November 22, 2008
in honor of the chinese
These are in honor of the Chinese people. They bought the squeaky shoes for us and own the hat...and they're going to have their own little squeaker soon!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
stragglers
I found some great pictures of my sister's that I haven't posted here. So here they are, in no particular order:
Sammy trying on some bling.
Who says jewelry isn't manly?
Fern and Mimi singing along (con gusto) at the Boyz2Men concert.
Katie enjoying the concert and Sam evidently struggling with an I-just-ate-2-glazed-donuts/what-kind-of-horrible-parents-take-
their-little-son-to-a-late-night-concert hangover.
Becoming one with the dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum
Giddy with himself that he fits in stuff.
What caption can I possibly use for this?
How about "Life as usual"
Series of us enjoying Katie's amazing "Fernando Pinata" which can never be topped. This was for his birthday.
This must be some sort of therapy...hitting your"self" with a whiffle bat.
And, of course...
Sammy trying on some bling.
Who says jewelry isn't manly?
Fern and Mimi singing along (con gusto) at the Boyz2Men concert.
Katie enjoying the concert and Sam evidently struggling with an I-just-ate-2-glazed-donuts/what-kind-of-horrible-parents-take-
their-little-son-to-a-late-night-concert hangover.
Becoming one with the dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum
Giddy with himself that he fits in stuff.
What caption can I possibly use for this?
How about "Life as usual"
Series of us enjoying Katie's amazing "Fernando Pinata" which can never be topped. This was for his birthday.
This must be some sort of therapy...hitting your"self" with a whiffle bat.
And, of course...
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
a sweet little story
Yesterday we had to pick up some materials at the LDS Humanitarian Center. The sisters are making infant caps for newborn kits this week. Anyway, we had a fun time looking around in there...if you haven't been you should go. I read an article the other day by a member stating that the Church should start offering humanitarian service missions for people to serve. I was so surprised that people don't know that the Church already has hundreds of humanitarian missionaries all over the world.
I have trouble staying on topic lately.
So we carted the boxes of materials downstairs and out to the car...and I couldn't find the keys. (No my car did not suddenly heal, we were using one of my mom's cars for our errands.) I looked around the car, through the windows at the ignition, in the carseats, the floor, searched my pockets a few times, all while trying to keep the kids safe against the car and the boxes. I think my kids have pretty well figured out how to sense when their mom is stressed. Sad. I finally gave in to the fact that we were going to have to go back in the building and search.
We went in, and I said something like, "Please help me find my keys" aloud as we hopped in the elevator. Miranda said a real prayer then that I could find my keys. I was not as faithful as I should have been because I was still thinking, "What if we don't find them?!! Who is going to come help us?" Stuff like that.
Luckily Miranda has faith. We stepped off of the elevator and walked a few feet and there, on a little table, were my keys!
I said, "LOOK Miranda!!!"
She said, "Heavenly Father found them!"
It was a great moment.
I have trouble staying on topic lately.
So we carted the boxes of materials downstairs and out to the car...and I couldn't find the keys. (No my car did not suddenly heal, we were using one of my mom's cars for our errands.) I looked around the car, through the windows at the ignition, in the carseats, the floor, searched my pockets a few times, all while trying to keep the kids safe against the car and the boxes. I think my kids have pretty well figured out how to sense when their mom is stressed. Sad. I finally gave in to the fact that we were going to have to go back in the building and search.
We went in, and I said something like, "Please help me find my keys" aloud as we hopped in the elevator. Miranda said a real prayer then that I could find my keys. I was not as faithful as I should have been because I was still thinking, "What if we don't find them?!! Who is going to come help us?" Stuff like that.
Luckily Miranda has faith. We stepped off of the elevator and walked a few feet and there, on a little table, were my keys!
I said, "LOOK Miranda!!!"
She said, "Heavenly Father found them!"
It was a great moment.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The people on the bus
I really like public transportation. I think countries with no cars and lots of convenient public transportation/walking have it right. I STILL can't figure out why we can't have a European-like train system here.
Since I'm sorta getting off topic here already I will mention that I recognize that I lapsed a bit on my blogaday, and thank my brother for cajoling me back into blog activity. He also asked if our family in Cali are okay. The fires got SO close to their house...to the hotel we stayed at last time if you remember, Chinese people...but it's under control now. We have more details we will share later when we catch you online.
Another thing I should mention because I'm off topic. SAM did not sleep very well last night which resulted at us watching Lawrence Welk from 4-5 AM. I am also wondering why we don't have a Lawrence Welk type show these days. There are lots of talented people I would love to watch perform wholesome and fun stuff week after week. Why does every talent show have to be a competition instead of just for the entertainment? Wow I'm opinionated today. I did get to watch a women's conference talk that was excellent until 5:30, so thank you Sam. You could not have convinced me I would live to say that two hours before when I was trying to battle him back to sleep.
So, back to public transportation. I think I could figure out how to take it most places I want to go. Since the car I drive won't pass inspection I've been thinking about how to take the bus/trax places more often, and so the other night I decided to try it. The moral of this story will be that it is easier to take public transportation WITHOUT two toddlers PLUS a double-stroller that won't fold up properly, three jackets, two hats, milks, a binky...you get the picture.
The kids on the bus go up and down...
But we did have fun. We had to ride three different buses and walk a bit to get where we were going, but it was surprisingly quick and an adventure. And we only had one potentially unsettling experience with a guy offering the kids treats out of his backpack. I refused before he could produce said treats so we may have really missed out.
We got a bit crazy after a while. But that happens no matter what we're doing.
Since I'm sorta getting off topic here already I will mention that I recognize that I lapsed a bit on my blogaday, and thank my brother for cajoling me back into blog activity. He also asked if our family in Cali are okay. The fires got SO close to their house...to the hotel we stayed at last time if you remember, Chinese people...but it's under control now. We have more details we will share later when we catch you online.
Another thing I should mention because I'm off topic. SAM did not sleep very well last night which resulted at us watching Lawrence Welk from 4-5 AM. I am also wondering why we don't have a Lawrence Welk type show these days. There are lots of talented people I would love to watch perform wholesome and fun stuff week after week. Why does every talent show have to be a competition instead of just for the entertainment? Wow I'm opinionated today. I did get to watch a women's conference talk that was excellent until 5:30, so thank you Sam. You could not have convinced me I would live to say that two hours before when I was trying to battle him back to sleep.
So, back to public transportation. I think I could figure out how to take it most places I want to go. Since the car I drive won't pass inspection I've been thinking about how to take the bus/trax places more often, and so the other night I decided to try it. The moral of this story will be that it is easier to take public transportation WITHOUT two toddlers PLUS a double-stroller that won't fold up properly, three jackets, two hats, milks, a binky...you get the picture.
The kids on the bus go up and down...
But we did have fun. We had to ride three different buses and walk a bit to get where we were going, but it was surprisingly quick and an adventure. And we only had one potentially unsettling experience with a guy offering the kids treats out of his backpack. I refused before he could produce said treats so we may have really missed out.
We got a bit crazy after a while. But that happens no matter what we're doing.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
4 things
1. Happy Veterans Day. I'm thinking of my Grandpa Howell who served in Korea and my Grandpa Baugh who served in the military for a time here in the U.S., and my cousin Carter who is serving now and my friends and friends' husbands and so many others. Thank you so much. I think about how being willing and ready to die for your country makes certain kind of men and women. I worry that we have less and less of their kind as time passes. But I still have hope.
2. Does anyone know how to get this background off my blog?
3.
4.
2. Does anyone know how to get this background off my blog?
3.
4.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
a record
A class at Church today got me thinking about how sometimes the most lasting contribution we can make is what we write about, and what we keep written record of about our lives. I have some memories that are stronger because I wrote them down at the time EVEN MORE than because they were strong to begin with. Isn't there some saying about a life unrecorded is a life unlived? How scary to think there could be nothing left to remember us by if we don't write ourselves down. I have had and keep some ideas about writing and reading and the spirituality of both. Anyway, the point of my saying all of this is just to be thankful and glad that this blogging thing came along, because I'm recording our lives in ways I would not be otherwise. We're blogging ourselves into permanancy.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
snow clothes
I missed another day yesterday. Got a little cold. And the dog ate my homework.
But look at this little smidge tromping around in the snow. He's a little stayed puffed marshmallow man.
Sometimes he says bug "gub" and puzzle "zupple."
But look at this little smidge tromping around in the snow. He's a little stayed puffed marshmallow man.
Sometimes he says bug "gub" and puzzle "zupple."
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Privacy
Today my sister told me the funniest story. She said she went into the bathroom and shut the door then she heard Miranda's little feet speeding behind her and then Miranda started banging urgently on the door and yelling, "Wait! I need to help you with your privacy!"
I taught her the word privacy referring to the fact that people need to have the opportunity to be alone in the bathroom. Rest assured that she nearly ALWAYS bursts in when I am about to use the restroom, shuts the door behind her and says, "Mom, I came in to give you some privacy." She has to be there to make sure I'm having some uninterrupted alone time.
So now I'm wondering if privacy is something we actually give to people and if we do, isn't the very fact that someone else has to GIVE us privacy really not that private. Philisophical meanderings.
Anyway, this funny story told by Katie made Katie and Fernando both remember an even funnier thing our aunt told us. She said she used to retreat into the bathroom when both her kids were little and lock the door, and just breathe, or sometimes cry...it was her sanctuary. Imagine, the BATHROOM is your sanctuary. But the funny part is that her little boy would stick his hands under the door and reach for her while she was in there. Hah. I just love that story because it is SUCH a mom story and kind of a scary movie at the same time. THERE IS NO ESCAPE....
I taught her the word privacy referring to the fact that people need to have the opportunity to be alone in the bathroom. Rest assured that she nearly ALWAYS bursts in when I am about to use the restroom, shuts the door behind her and says, "Mom, I came in to give you some privacy." She has to be there to make sure I'm having some uninterrupted alone time.
So now I'm wondering if privacy is something we actually give to people and if we do, isn't the very fact that someone else has to GIVE us privacy really not that private. Philisophical meanderings.
Anyway, this funny story told by Katie made Katie and Fernando both remember an even funnier thing our aunt told us. She said she used to retreat into the bathroom when both her kids were little and lock the door, and just breathe, or sometimes cry...it was her sanctuary. Imagine, the BATHROOM is your sanctuary. But the funny part is that her little boy would stick his hands under the door and reach for her while she was in there. Hah. I just love that story because it is SUCH a mom story and kind of a scary movie at the same time. THERE IS NO ESCAPE....
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Leaf it to us
Yes I am aware this should be a political blog tonight but instead here we are playing in the leaves!!!
Can't get much better than this for a fall day...warm, slowish, honey-sunlight burning on the leaves, crunchiness, sweet crisp air, ahhh. Perfect. So much more beautiful because it doesn't last.
Childhood is a little like that, especially from the vantage point of a parent, so perfect you want to just hold on to every last second.
Can't get much better than this for a fall day...warm, slowish, honey-sunlight burning on the leaves, crunchiness, sweet crisp air, ahhh. Perfect. So much more beautiful because it doesn't last.
Childhood is a little like that, especially from the vantage point of a parent, so perfect you want to just hold on to every last second.
a writing teacher
I can't complain about my job. My second job. The first being mom. I'm talking about teaching writing at colleges. I like writing, I like reading other people's writing. I like working on a flexible schedule and not having to leave my children, physically, at least. There are lots of ups.
Today I've been grading the writing portfolios of 75 of my students. As part of their portfolio they have to include a profile.
Some people choose inspirational figures: a wheelchair basketball star, Michael Phelps, and the like. Many others choose people with dramatic stories. We all have dramatic stories, by the way. Different kinds of drama. Today I read profiles on drug addicts, rape victims, teenage unwed mothers, individuals going through suicide attempts, broken families, single and struggling moms, abuse, transgender issues, etc. I really feel for each person in each profile I read and I know these issues are really important and worthy of serious thought.
There comes a certain point, however, when I have been grading for hours straight that these sorts of profiles in sequence can get to me. Some people, thankfully, write about their moms, but most of the moms have had crazy difficult lives as well. Life. I guess I shouldn't complain about reading about real life, even though I feel like a zombie when I'm through, because some people like Claire actually counsel people in the middle of their issues day after day, hour after hour, sometimes with no signs of helping or improvement. I actually held a celebration at the computer when I got a profile full of Michael Phelps and other less weighty matters.
I guess I should write a disclaimer on my syllabus like "if I get too depressed or weirded out while reading your paper you will get an F on this paper." But I wouldn't really mean it of course and I have trouble giving F's anyway, most of the time. Other times I just LIVE to give F's. Kidding.
In other work related news, the other day Miranda asked me what "fired" meant. I didn't tell her the meaning referring to pottery, but I did tell her it meant having to stop doing your job.
The next day, she came up to me while I was typing away on the computer. She said, firmly, "Mom, you're fired."
"Why am I fired?"
"So you can stop doing your job."
You can't get the truth that you are working too much and playing with your kids not enough any straighter than that. But here's to a way to pay the bills until Fernando is done with school. And I actually like reading people's writing and really believe in writing as a value, even if it means reading continually about conflict and sadness and real-life pain and adversity...but I would also be more than okay with be reading a profile on Snuffalufagus or The Statue of Liberty or Marjorie Hinckley once in a while.
Today I've been grading the writing portfolios of 75 of my students. As part of their portfolio they have to include a profile.
Some people choose inspirational figures: a wheelchair basketball star, Michael Phelps, and the like. Many others choose people with dramatic stories. We all have dramatic stories, by the way. Different kinds of drama. Today I read profiles on drug addicts, rape victims, teenage unwed mothers, individuals going through suicide attempts, broken families, single and struggling moms, abuse, transgender issues, etc. I really feel for each person in each profile I read and I know these issues are really important and worthy of serious thought.
There comes a certain point, however, when I have been grading for hours straight that these sorts of profiles in sequence can get to me. Some people, thankfully, write about their moms, but most of the moms have had crazy difficult lives as well. Life. I guess I shouldn't complain about reading about real life, even though I feel like a zombie when I'm through, because some people like Claire actually counsel people in the middle of their issues day after day, hour after hour, sometimes with no signs of helping or improvement. I actually held a celebration at the computer when I got a profile full of Michael Phelps and other less weighty matters.
I guess I should write a disclaimer on my syllabus like "if I get too depressed or weirded out while reading your paper you will get an F on this paper." But I wouldn't really mean it of course and I have trouble giving F's anyway, most of the time. Other times I just LIVE to give F's. Kidding.
In other work related news, the other day Miranda asked me what "fired" meant. I didn't tell her the meaning referring to pottery, but I did tell her it meant having to stop doing your job.
The next day, she came up to me while I was typing away on the computer. She said, firmly, "Mom, you're fired."
"Why am I fired?"
"So you can stop doing your job."
You can't get the truth that you are working too much and playing with your kids not enough any straighter than that. But here's to a way to pay the bills until Fernando is done with school. And I actually like reading people's writing and really believe in writing as a value, even if it means reading continually about conflict and sadness and real-life pain and adversity...but I would also be more than okay with be reading a profile on Snuffalufagus or The Statue of Liberty or Marjorie Hinckley once in a while.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Halloween, of course!
Please allow me to ease my conscience by reminding you that I only said I would TRY blogging every day...it wasn't a signed commitment. Even so, I'm sorry I missed a few days. The first missed day I fell asleep in the kids room and didn't wake up until 2:45 am. The next day was Halloween. Which brings us to the subject for TODAY: costumes+candy+toddlers=INSANITY, but FUN!!!
Though I tried to discourage the choosing of "princess" as this year's costume, ultimately I knew I would give in to my child's dreams, which only came true via the mad sewing skills of Grandma Cynthia. Miranda's mental vision of herself when she chose to be a princess for Halloween was Anastasia from Cinderella. She has told me several times that she thinks Anastasia is prettier than Cinderella, and she wanted the "puffy bum" Anastasia's dress has. We trained her to say "bustle" instead and she's done beautifully. Thank you D.I. for providing me with crunchy slips that made the perfect bustle.
So the theme was the "frog prince". Fernando made the eyes with ping-pong balls.
Hesitant to kiss the froggy and turn him into a prince. I agree princes are way more complicated than frogs, and sometimes have the same breath.
Better...you can tell Sam's ready for a big smacker.
Didn't work, I guess. I love this picture because it totally captures the kids' personalities.
Flapper Katie and Miranda...Katie handed down the "justified fury" gene. Thanks a lot, Katie.
Lucy and Ricky Ricardo...I mean...Sharon and Fernando.
Back in time thanks to Fernando's photoshop abilities.
The night was crazy and he later said something about how we stayed in character the whole night because I kept making everything insane and he kept having to fix and calm everything. Nice. But he made this, so what can you do.
It was a happy Halloween. We saw lots of neighbors (by the way, Sammy didn't even want the candy he just basically ran inside every house as soon as the people opened the door). I keep telling myself he'll make a good missionary. Miranda was so nice to always make sure the people would give a piece of candy to "my baby brother" but sometimes she was so concerned about it that her "thank you" wasn't as well-timed or buoyant as we would have liked. Very few people knew what Fernando and I were supposed to be...thank you to those few who did...and so we decided that we are outdated OR way too classy for our own good.
I'll post a little picture of us with our pumpkins tomorrow even though you might not want me to. I still have a bunch of candy that we didn't get to pass out to trick or treaters, so if anyone missed the opportunity to trick or treat, we've still got a stash. This invitation is extended to people even living in, say, California, China...come on over.
Though I tried to discourage the choosing of "princess" as this year's costume, ultimately I knew I would give in to my child's dreams, which only came true via the mad sewing skills of Grandma Cynthia. Miranda's mental vision of herself when she chose to be a princess for Halloween was Anastasia from Cinderella. She has told me several times that she thinks Anastasia is prettier than Cinderella, and she wanted the "puffy bum" Anastasia's dress has. We trained her to say "bustle" instead and she's done beautifully. Thank you D.I. for providing me with crunchy slips that made the perfect bustle.
So the theme was the "frog prince". Fernando made the eyes with ping-pong balls.
Hesitant to kiss the froggy and turn him into a prince. I agree princes are way more complicated than frogs, and sometimes have the same breath.
Better...you can tell Sam's ready for a big smacker.
Didn't work, I guess. I love this picture because it totally captures the kids' personalities.
Flapper Katie and Miranda...Katie handed down the "justified fury" gene. Thanks a lot, Katie.
Lucy and Ricky Ricardo...I mean...Sharon and Fernando.
Back in time thanks to Fernando's photoshop abilities.
The night was crazy and he later said something about how we stayed in character the whole night because I kept making everything insane and he kept having to fix and calm everything. Nice. But he made this, so what can you do.
It was a happy Halloween. We saw lots of neighbors (by the way, Sammy didn't even want the candy he just basically ran inside every house as soon as the people opened the door). I keep telling myself he'll make a good missionary. Miranda was so nice to always make sure the people would give a piece of candy to "my baby brother" but sometimes she was so concerned about it that her "thank you" wasn't as well-timed or buoyant as we would have liked. Very few people knew what Fernando and I were supposed to be...thank you to those few who did...and so we decided that we are outdated OR way too classy for our own good.
I'll post a little picture of us with our pumpkins tomorrow even though you might not want me to. I still have a bunch of candy that we didn't get to pass out to trick or treaters, so if anyone missed the opportunity to trick or treat, we've still got a stash. This invitation is extended to people even living in, say, California, China...come on over.
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