Unhistoric Acts

the low down on Thanksgiving

*warning: lengthy post with a number of mediocre pictures

This year for Thanksgiving I put my foot down about camping. There were a number of disappointed parties, but I had grown weary of the cold and the dirt. And of the extreme distances to restroom facilities. It was wimpy, I know.

So, instead we took the kids to the exotic locale of Grapevine, TX to the Great Wolf Lodge. Mostly we just wanted our kids' undivided attention, and for that...we had to head out of town. You might say we were holding them captive.

Parker, especially, was thrilled with the decor...and the waterpark...and a little game called Magiquest. I'll just tell you now that Magiquest was the hit of the weekend. It's a scavenger hunt set up all over the hotel. Players have wands (think Harry Potter) and then run up and down and between floors looking for clues. The wand activates the clues (they move or talk or light up) and then some ginormous server somewhere is keeping track of every clue you activate. Parker completed every available quest and adventure at least twice. At one point he was trying to help a teenage boy "defeat the dragon." He played for hours...and his dutiful father followed him upstairs and downstairs...to the Pixie Perch...and to a few hundred other places. I was definitely grateful for Sterling's perseverance this Thanksgiving.

For Thanksgiving dinner we went across the street to the Gaylord Texan for their brunch buffet. Let's just call it what it is...a gorge fest. There was so much food. So much. And me? My body just isn't made for the buffet line. I get full too fast.

Sterling had worked out an entire plan on how to pace himself. Parker? He ate one plate of food (in about 10 minutes) and declared himself finished. Luckily, he caught a second wind once he saw the chocolate fountain. All in all, we lasted almost two hours at the "buffet," most of the time was spent talking and people watching. And absolutely NO time was spent cleaning. I was most happy about that.

The Gaylord Texas also hosts a huge exhibit called ICE. And it's, well, ice. Tons and tons of it.

We almost turned down the parkas (provided by the exhibit) but took them "just in case." Um...it was 9 degrees in there! WE walked through room after room of sculpted ice. It was really cool, but only Parker and Sterling were wearing socks...my feet were numb for a good 25 minutes after we left. Here's my review: SO COLD. That's all.

Also on the agenda...the Polar Express (or the North Pole Express for those of you who might be sensitive to copyright infringements). Mostly, I booked the tickets because Parker loves trains. And because I'm thoughtful like that.

These four were totally wild the entire ride. Jordan and I sat a few rows up and pretended we had no idea who they were.

We sang Christmas carols (accompanied by a woman on the loudspeaker with the thickest Texas accent ever). And then, finally, Santa made his appearance. Hi Santa! I'd like a Mini Cooper convertible.

I keep asking. He keeps ignoring.

Since Parker was our only "little kid," we made him ham it up big time. At times it was like having an only child with five parents. The problem with that is ... every one of those parents is so darn bossy. He made need therapy in the near future. I'm saving up.

One of the coolest things we did is "help" make glass ornaments at a glass studio. Sterling and I are both suckers for a factory tour, so we were not passing up the opportunity to watch glass blowing live and in person.

At the end of the pole Jordan is holding is a blob of molten glass (sand?). She is dipping it in colored pieces that will eventually make her ornament multi-colored. Watch out Jordan! That's way hotter than your straightening iron.

Isn't it annoying when I talk to the pictures? That's what happens when you've slept with your kids in the same room for the past four nights. Have I mentioned the bed was hard and a little pokey and tiny?

All of the kids had a turn with the molten lava. Even Parker. Because we don't feel a family trip is complete without a trip to the ER. Just kidding. No children were harmed in the making of these ornaments.

After the kids rolled the lava  in colored thingies (I'm really into precise language) the glass blowing guys took over. He reheated the lava and then started shaping it on this table. Mostly...he made it into a cylinder.

Then he blew a puff of air through the tube to expand the ball, and then he kept twirling it and doing some other stuff to it with those really giant tweezers. You get the idea, right?

Once they made the ball they stuck it in the middle of that fluff and added a wee bit of molten lava to the top to form a loop. The blue ornament is Parker's. He chose BYU colors. And he didn't even know at that point in the day that BYU was going to BEAT the University of Utah that very night. Maybe he's clairvoyant.

The big bummer was...that we had to leave our ornaments there over night for some additional "processes"...which I think means some controlled cooling. We showed back up the next morning on our way out of town and they weren't ready. So now the glass place is holding our ornaments hostage. They've promised to mail them. I hate waiting. I'm no good at buffets or waiting. Other than that, I'm good.

Know what else we did? On Saturday evening the girls and I dined at the American Girl Bistro while the boys hit the lego store. We were undoubtedly the oldest group in the store by a number of years. But, you know what? The girls LOVED it. They were begging for new dolls. Jordan said it made her feel like a kid again. Consider that monumental feat...the AG store removed her teenage angst and replaced it with carefree innocence and creativity. I wonder if they make that in a pill form.

This is the girls as we were checking out on Sunday. And yes, Sterling made us go to church. But after four days of entertaining the kids nonstop, I could hardly deny him this one request. He's holy like that.

So now...we're back...and miracle of miracles...my suitcase is already unpacked and in the attic. I have to get moving on Christmas, and finishing my class at A&M, and playing Cake Mania 3 on the iPhone. Have you tried it? Very addicting.

tree time

Because we are leaving the homestead for Thanksgiving, I wanted to get the tree up ahead of time. I didn't think my delicate psyche could handle all of the vacation aftermath (laundry, mess, back to school) while being excited about erecting a giant tree in the living room. Something about dragging boxes down from the attic makes me a tad grumpy. I really wanted all of the magic to happen last night, but our dear Rebecca had other plans. And we can't decorate without Rebecca...

So we played in the Christmas tree box instead.

Playing in the box has become somewhat of a tradition. You know how people have advents...where they do a Christmas-y activity every day of the month? One of our would have to be --play in the Christmas tree box. Those poor little urchins...even a giant box makes them happy. By the way, Sterling and I had to chase the dog around to get her in the box. She sensed our design...and not wanting to go in the box...was less than cooperative. But it's tradition...so in she went.

This might be more picturesque if not for the wire/fake feet of the Christmas tree. Also, what is it about the darkness that turns my house gold in pictures? The drapes are green. The walls are green. So fear not...our house does not have that Midas look. Yet.

So now...I just need to get the car cleaned out, about three loads of laundry washed and folded, me and the kids packed, head to the grocery store for snacks and treats, and supervise the tree decorating. Oh...and get our lights ready. The light guys are coming while we're gone. I do love the lights.

Happy Holidays!

eat your heart out

I think I just might have a future in photographing boy bands.

This guy was just looking for the perfect facebook photo. I have a few that should do nicely.

His momma should like this one:
 

Seriously. I shouldn't say cute. So I won't. What is the term these days anyway? It's not rad. Or phat. I'm going with cute. It shows my age.

We've finished a weekend of photos and birthdays and too many Pioneer Woman rosemary rolls. To tell you a truth, I can't really remember the particulars of the weekend. There was some shopping and some laundry and some feeling grateful that I'm not cooking Thanksgiving dinner.

That's right. For the first time in a long time, we won't be having Thanksgiving via dutch ovens. We'll be having it in a hotel, like all of the other civilized (and lazy) Americans out there. I'm hoping for some quality family bonding time without that smothered feeling. You know the one...the one where you have been with your kids nonstop for 5 days and you're feeling rather punchy. Yeah. I'm hoping to avoid that.

on being domestic

Cold weather makes me turn to domestic tasks. I want to organize every drawer and closet. I want to cook soups and breads and sugary, fattening foods. Heck, I even want to sew. It's kind of like bursitis...when the weather changes...my domestic acts up.

 

For instance...I'm currently proofing my rolls over the fireplace. And it doesn't get much more domestic than that. I can't get the darn rolls to rise because the house is rather chilly. And if I put them on the hearth, Indie would eat them. So they're on the mantle. That makes perfect sense. Right?

On another note. I'm ready to get rid of the pumpkins. I'm weary of pumpkins. 

But I'm not weary of pumpkin pie. Bring it on.

j
Do you ever read blog entries that go something like this?

"I was resting on my couch one afternoon when I noticed the spectacular fall season going on right outside my door/window. And I just spent some time appreciating the leaves and this beautiful time and thought...life is good."

Have you read one of those lately?

Well, I have. And I completely appreciate them.

So, when I found myself upon my own couch noticing the fall leaves...I thought to myself...okay, let's appreciate. And I waited. And waited some more.

And that was it.

I'm just terrible at this contemplative/appreciative thing.

But I did grab my camera and play around with the settings. The only way I could get the leaves to show through is if the foreground was dark. Of course it wasn't really dark, but if I metered for the door and hallway...then what was outside was completely blasted out. Anyone know any tricks for dealing with back lighting? I tried changing the metering...and place of metering...and locking in the metering...all to no avail. Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

my kids and the bridge

So I'm doing a few photoshoots this weekend, and one of the families that I'm working with asked about this rusty, kinda cool bridge in our neighborhood. Would that be a good place to take pictures?

And I had to answer honestly. I don't know. But I'm in pursuit of cool locales, so I decided to try it out. On my own kids.

In the end it's not the greatest place if there is any sun whatsoever. It's made of slats (for lack of a better term)...which cause horrible shadows and highlights on people's faces. Not such a great thing for pictures. Or liquids. Or trying to get a tan.

The other bummer was that I tried to squeeze these shots in between getting home from school and going to the orthodontist. Not enough time. That's my new mantra. Not. enough. time. Say it with me.

But here's what I got. I might just go with it. Because I'm lazy like that. Merry Lazy Christmas! That's what my card is going to say.

 

This was my number one choice...until I just put it up on the blog. It looks much more crisp and clear in photoshop than here. Why? Why? Why?

Okay...here's another.
 

Okay, definitely not this one. Parker and Jordan look like they might be in physical pain. Madison looks scared stiff. Becca looks like...the photogenic kid that she is. She didn't get that from me. I always look slightly deranged in photos...with a double chin. It's not a pleasing combo.

I love this one...except for Jordan...who looks like she is just humoring me with this picture. Which she is. Maybe this year's card should go for a raw, uncensored look. Maybe I'll also include a picture of my laundry room at this very moment. A room stuffed with so many dirty socks and towels that I'm afraid children's services could possibly have an opinion on the matter. But, hey, I can still close the door...so I'm probably okay.

Nope, she still looks bored...even in black and white.

And what about Parker's sweater? Is that not the cutest look ever? He didn't even complain when I handed it to him. And he completely cooperated with the pictures. Not sure why. Earlier in the day, when I was planning the sweater and picture taking, I contemplated the lengths I was willing to go in terms of bribery. I was considering cold, hard cash. But in the end he didn't require any bribery. He was cooperative all on his own. I think my baby is growing up. I like those parts of growing up...the behaving parts. I can do without the driving and giving me the stink-eye parts. And the leaving me parts. And so, so many other parts that I cannot even begin to name them at 10:29 at night.

So, any preferences on the pics? Come on Mom. I know you have an opinion. Give it to me.

baby it's cold outside

It's blustery and cold today in the Lone Star state. I had two sweaters on as I walked to the library this afternoon and still I was shivering. Something about the cold and a college campus really works for me. Perhaps this is because my first college experience was in a frozen land far, far away. So now, my simple brain puts the two together....a cold, bitter wind and long, grueling papers.

But no papers for me this Christmas!! While I am reading, reading, reading (or am pretending to read, read, read) I do not have a bevy of papers due at the beginning of December. This, in and of itself, is revelatory. I can breathe. And think clearly. And I'm working like a mad woman on some projects that I cannot reveal. Secrecy requires, well....that I keep my mouth shut and my camera turned off. But after Christmas, I should have some humdingers to share.

After just the smallest bit of prodding I did take on some photography jobs...you know, family pictures and such.

 

And really, what puts you into the Christmas spirit more than adorable baby girls in pretty red dresses? I've already talked Sterling into putting our tree up next Monday...before we disappear for Thanksgiving.

Tortilla soup is on the menu tonight....hot and steamy...and avocado-y. And Monterey Jack-y.

Okay, that's enough.

the tray

After church today, my entourage (read: 4 kids and the hubs) and I headed over to my parent's house for lunch. During a rather (read: extremely) lengthy church meeting my mother had promised a chocolate cake of epic proportions. So, you can understand that once I arrived at her house I demanded to see the cake. I needed a visual.

As promised, out comes the cake. And what had said cake been resting on? But this fabulous, metal, paisley-ed tray. Now, I can't go so far as to say that this tray played an integral part in my childhood. I don't have any heart-rending stories about how this tray kept me company during a particularly lonely time or carried my medications during a long and grueling illness. Instead, my memories of this tray hover in the not-so-distant background.....like the upholstered walls in my mother's bedroom, or the wooden monkeys (hear, see, speak no evil) that sat in the windowsill over the kitchen sink, or the pink ceramic, light-up cat that sat on my bathroom counter. 

And without all of those seemingly insignificant details...what would my childhood be? Apart, from many a joyful afternoon spent stuffing cooked beans up the nose of my sister's cabbage patch doll...my childhood memories would be sterile and un-anchored. This tray reminds me of my home, and it's colors, and the strict training I had as a child to utilize the appropriate serving piece. You don't plunk condiments on the table in their original containers. You NEVER, EVER, EVER serve from a pot or pan. And a metal, colorful, paisley-ed tray might just make your home and meals the slightest bit more sophisticated....particularly if you have four brothers who insist on ruining everything good you ever got.

And now that tray is mine, all mine. I'm hunting for the perfect spot...

i'm grateful for sunny mornings

I've been mildly surprised at how much more I like the mornings now that the pitch blackness of daylight savings is over. By the time I get up at 6:15, the daylight has fully arrived, and somehow this tricks my brain into believing that I, too, should cast off my lazy inclinations and get moving. Becca and I mill about, and watch 18 Kids and Counting, and I check my e-mail and read the blogs that have been updated since I last checked my computer...just minutes before heading to bed.

As you can see from the above picture, this morning did not start off in the most organized of ways. Quite often, by the time Thursday evening rolls around, I do not have one molecule of energy or patience left in my body. So, with all of my molecules spent...I couldn't possibly check homework or pick up after myself. This does mean that I have to play catch up...like checking Parker's math homework while he has his breakfast....and tidying the kitchen once I finish this blog post. 

Sterling and I are heading off to breakfast in a bit. Truth be told, I'd already eaten breakfast when he called to invite me out...but I hate to miss time with him so I'll just order something small and pretend to be all dainty. Cuz that's totally like me.

i'm grateful for...

GRADING!

I know. It seems so yucky. And boring. And, well, frustrating.

It's November, so I'm trying on grateful to see how it fits. Lots of people are doing it. Whole herds of bloggers are daily accounting for their blessings. And there's nothing I like better than joining the herd. Unless it's going my own way just to make people mad. But that's another story altogether and has painfully little to do with being grateful.

So grading. I'm grateful for it. It does heighten my consciousness about what good writing is. And about how powerful a strong piece of critical thinking can be. I'm certainly grateful for the opportunity to teach at A&M. I didn't take the most direct route to graduate school, so this teaching thing (along with the grading) could have remained pie in the sky for, well, forever.

And boy, howdy, am I grateful when the grading is completed.

The end.

cuz this is a classy joint...

Oooh. The blogs are filling up with brilliant Christmas ideas. And CRAFTS. And fancy FOOD. And elegantly decorated homes (no caps needed).

I wish I had some of that to offer you here. And maybe I will in the future. But not today. Today is about non-elegance.

For instance, how many of you get excited when the Christmas/Winter Diet Coke cans hit the shelves?

I do! I do!

Or how about this household tip? What do you do when you LOSE the cap to your bottle of canola oil? Well, the solution is simple...and it involves foil and a rubberband. Do you realize just how much you can accomplish with a box of foil and a bevy of rubber bands?

ALOT.

Classy, right? You see, on Sunday morning two of my band of lovely children designated themselves too ill to attend church. So, me, being the industrious woman that I am, decided that such a boon of unexpected time warranted that I "straighten up" the pantry. When the pantry gets unruly, I get out of sorts. And no one likes it when Momma is out of sorts.

And we all know what "straightening up" morphs into. What started out as shifting a few cans of beans to a new locale...turned into dragging out the contents of the pantry onto the kitchen counters. And onto the floors. And throwing away copious amounts of expired foods, and junk, and birthday party goody bags. Why do goody bags end up in the pantry anyway?

And somehow, during this "my life is filled with yucky stuff" phase of my day, I lost the lid to the canola oil. Because, you see, I had neglected to tidy up from breakfast...when I was just going to "straighten" a few things. And since straightening turned into throwing away...the lid went the way of the world. Well, the way of my world. At that particular point and time.

But behold, how great was my joy. My pantry is a beacon of light and organization. I probably walked into the pantry 27 times over the course of that Sunday just for the sake of pure, unadulterated admiration. I walked in, and ran my fingers along the clean shelves, and admired the straight lines of my canned goods, and the unique configuration of seven different kinds of vinegar, AND...get this...my baking basket. Contained within the baking basket is salt, and baking soda, and baking powder, and vanilla, and a stick of shortening...and a few other things. So, when the kids or I are baking...instead of traipsing back and forth to the pantry...we will simply bring FORTH the baking basket, utilize the supplies therein, and then put it neatly back in its place.

And smack dab in the middle of all of this wonder...sits that darn bottle of Wesson...with its decidedly imperfect lid.

Know of anything I can make with approximately 3/4 bottle of canola oil? I've got to get rid of this thing!