Unhistoric Acts

on growing...

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT traipse through your digital photo files if you intend to get anything done today. It's so delightful. It draws you in. It transports you...away from what you absolutely must get done, which is the sole purpose of transporting. While I was transporting...I pulled out all of Maddie's b-day pics since we went digital (not in the mood to start scanning today). O little grasshopper...how you have grown!

2006 - Eleven

2007 - Twelve

2008 - Thirteen

2009 - Fourteen

2010 - Fifteen

2011 - Sixteen

2012 - Seventeen

happy birthday madison!

She's officially 17. I snapped this picture in the failing light yesterday afternoon -- in between frosting her chocolate cake and sending Jordan to the supermarket for ice cream. I do like a picture of them on their actual day...that way my old gnarled fingers will have something to clutch in the loneliness of old age.

Because of seminary we've had to forego our old tradition of breakfast and gifts in bed in the morning. Instead I brought lunch to the high school: sushi and those big, soft sugar cookies with pink frosting and sprinkles. And a lemonade Vitamin Water...cuz that's her favorite. [Jordan also got lunch at the high school because she happens to have the same lunch period.Though...she won't eat sushi. Do you know how difficult it is to find a drive-thru lunch at 10 AM? Exceedingly difficult).

For dinner last night I made lemon chicken. Lemon chicken is an old recipe I found on the Internet many moons ago. I made it once or twice and rejected it from the list of 'regulars.' Still Maddie asks for it all the time. So...on her birthday? Lemon chicken it is. And asparagus and a giant chocolate cake. If you want to make a box cake look fancy, simply bake two box cakes...one box in each layer. Then it's huge and impressive. Do make your own frosting though. Canned frosting tastes ... canned.

I can see little pieces of myself in all of my children. With Madison, she and I have the #2 bond. We are both second children, both born on the heels (just 14 months in both cases) of a rather, shall we say, "confident" older sibling. And like me, Madison is not content to sit in the shadow or ride on the proverbial coat tails. Those firstborns have their sense of belonging handed to them with their first diaper change. Not so for us #2s. We have to establish ourselves, outline our talents, prove ourselves, RAIL AGAINST THE MAN. I'm not entirely sure why...but that's just the way it is. So when I see my little Maddie striving so ardently at school and in music and at church I give her an imaginary #2 high five. #2s are people too. I'm having t-shirts made. Who wants one?

Can I just brag for one tiny second? This seemingly innocuous, dimpled, teenage girl is the bomb at math. Never having been the bomb at math myself, I am constantly in shock and awe. Pre-cal this year? Her average hovers between a 99 and a 100. Who does that? Seriously? And how lucky? Good at numbers means so much more earning power than good at words. Sorry #1, you and I will have to be rich with experience. So, good for you Maddie! Show those boys how math is really done.

And still, she's the sensitive, sweetheart of girl she's been since babyhood. She's often the one to drag out a board game to entertain Parker. She'll clean up the kitchen on a Saturday unasked. She absolutely cannot say no to a friend. Her room is still rather messy. She's stays up too late doing homework. Sometimes she moves slowly in the morning. She likes to have plans on the weekends. She is particular about her 'outfits.' More and more she is straightening her hair. She likes to have the car all to herself. She feeds the dog way too much human food. She's crazy about David Archuleta.

And she's an absolute treasure. Happy 17th sweetie!

 

 

surprise!

My Maddie turns seventeen on Monday. She's bright and vivacious and funny and so, so anxious to please others. She's been a sparkling ray of light since the moment she became a part of our family. So how could I turn down Rebecca and Paige's suggestion to throw a surprise party? I couldn't.

Seriously folks, I have been sick, sick, sick ALL week long. Not just a tiny bit sick. Not just a day or two. But really sick...as in I had to take an hour nap after a 20 minute run to the grocery store. I'd get up and teach seminary, come home and lie down. Get up and do whatever things I HAD to do. And go home and lie down. I'll be honest...there was more doing than lieing down, which left me exhausted and grouchy and perhaps even mildly depressed. 

Yesterday, thankfully, I started to perk up a bit. First off (before the perking), I woke up to a sink full of dishes. A very activity-heavy Thursday night meant the remnants of crockpot chili were fermenting in a sick full of water. Gross. Knowing I needed to throw things into high gear (for the part-ay) I started with the kitchen. I was moving slow. My head was throbbing. I had to stop every nine minutes to blow my nose. Then, in a make-it-or-break-it kind of moment I flipped the switch to turn on the garbage disposal. Nothing but a very quiet hum. I reset the GCFI. Still humming. I quickly thought through the ramifications of no garbage disposal and decided my best recourse was to throw myself onto the tile floor and begin sobbing. After all, I was sick. And bereft.

But just as I started to lurch towards the floor, the front door opened. Seriously, and I'm serious here, it was like some triumphant I've-Come-To-The-Rescue music started playing in the background. It was Sterling, one of the handiest men in the universe. Within three minutes he had that garbage disposal back to grinding. Geez, I love that guy.

I took that as I sign to carry on. I made a list. I went to the grocery store. I baked cupcakes and made dips and then hid everything before Maddie came home. I worried that folks would be late...that there wouldn't be a good showing. But really, there were too many kids. Teenagers everywhere. And Maddie was surprised. And they ate over 200 Chickfila nuggets and purple cupcakes and these fine little croissants filled with nutella. It was good. And then I crashed at 1 AM and didn't wake up til 9:30.

But fear not, the mucus was waiting for me when I woke up. It's attentive like that.

byu...BYU...BYU!!!

Last Thursday Jordan finally got official word that she'd been accepted to BYU.

I'm relieved, ecstatic, and deeply ambivalent.

The relief comes not so much from thinking she might NOT get in as in worrying that some cosmic fluke of the universe would preclude her acceptance. BYU was both her first choice and her backup school -- meaning she only applied to BYU and a few Ivys...so if for some reason BYU turned her down...we were going to be up a creek without the proverbial paddle. Also, she'd have to stay home with her mommy and daddy while all of her friends went off to college. This would not make for a happy Jordan. It would make for a hysterical Jordan -- not a place I want to visit.

As for ecstatic, of course I am. We've always wanted her to attend our alma mater. Sterling and I have nothing but misty-eyed, green jello-ed, idealized memories of our time at BYU. And to think -- she'll be studying among those same hallowed halls....with the most incredibly low tuition costs imaginable...is a beautiful thing. 

But still. She's leaving. Which just makes my stomach hurt.

And I do think...I've made this...this dream to go to BYU. I've constructed this dream with my own two hands (and hours of dialogue, and BYU volleyball camp, and EFY, and trips to the BYU bookstore), and I hope she loves it. Because there does come a point where she'll have to extricate her own hopes and dreams from those of her parents. And she'll have to distinguish between what she really wants and what is expected. And maybe she's already doing that...goodness knows she's the girl has a mind of her own.

And this is where I realize I've read too much identity theory for the day and I decide to take a walk. Geez.

Congrats Jordan! Sniff.

unfinished business

Guess what I did for Sterling for Valentine's Day? I framed his Baylor diplomas! Hurray! He graduated in 2005. Yes, I'm totally on the ball.

Lately I've been giving some thought to tidying up unfinished business. For instance, we bought a rug liner/pad for the rug in our living room AT LEAST a full year ago. It's been sitting, in its original packaging, in the master bedroom closet for the entirety of that year. It took all of ten minutes to scoot the furniture back, roll up the rug, put down the pad, and replace everything. Also, last weekend we replaced the knobs on Becca's dresser...several of which were injured in our move here six years ago.

I know this all sounds very shameful and irresponsible. And surprisingly, when I complete these silly, simple, yet ignored tasks...I feel all proud of myself. Like, "YES!!! I replaced those darn knobs. I am a worthy human being." --not even kidding about that.

Today I'm framing my own Baylor diploma and going out hunting for an enormous lightbulb that recently burnt out in the kitchen. See? I'm not going to wait six months. That, my friends, is a little thing I like to call progress. Try it. You'll like it.

on making myself crazy

Yesterday I had all kinds of Valentine-y ideas swirling in my head. There was the paper-heart making, and the breakfasting, and the "special" dinner, and cookie making with the kids, and Valentine BINGO, and ... of course... a gift for Sterling. And by about 6:30 last night I was completely tuckered out. (Pictured above: Ingrid Michaelson tickets for me and the girls. Yippee!!)

In the past six months or so I've become really adept at saying 'no' to extraneous distractions -- all towards making some real progress on my dissertation. A surprising side benefit has been a degree of unfamiliar peace in my personal life. Because I've limited the number of projects I take on, lunches I attend, and all-around playing at any number of (worthwhile) pursuits, I've been more focused on the important things. Like my family. And being organized. And searching for the next great iphone app.

Yesterday I reverted to my old ways. I was literally running from 5:00 AM until 10:00 PM trying to finish everything I started. Sure, some of it was fun -- like playing Valentine BINGO with my kids (for real prizes). I'm sure they enjoyed the meal and the cookies and the shiny decorations. But for me? It's taken me about 18 years to realize it is too much. Today I'm exhausted and annoyed and feeling disconnected from my work-work, which makes me antsy and especially prone to eat sugar. Also, my kitchen is only partially reclaimed from the four pounds of bacon that were cooked and consumed therein. Nope, not exaggerating even a little.

As I was doing some reading today, I came upon an article that spoke about the domestic as a place to provide stability and form identity...a place of grounding and a location to generate meaning (as in the meaning of life)...all of which I agree with. I want my kids to feel warmth and love and even excitement over holidays and birthdays and Thursdays. And THIS is why I have a hard time finding some balance. Cuz sometimes they really like over-the-top. And sometimes over-the-top is just how I roll. (Rollin' right on to the looney bin.)

But not today. Today it's rainy. And dark. I declined Parker's proposal to have friends over. I've kept the lights low, and dinner is baked potatoes (no bacon will be served). A little down time can be a good thing...and the next time I start linking to a zillion different ideas, I'd appreciate if someone would shoot me an e-mail and tell me to GET A GRIP. Thank you very much.

happy valentine's day!

Our Valentine's tradition is to have a special breakfast for the kids. We decorate the table, serve pancakes or waffles (or something equally syrupy), and give them a small gift. But with the big girls in seminary and me teaching seminary...I decided to throw over 1 Kings for just one day and bring the whole class in on the scheme. Breakfast for 20. How cozy.

Last night I was up late setting the tables, and arranging some pink tulips, and cutting up an old medical dictionary into paper hearts. I was trying to complete this project quickly while also avoiding any medical terms that might not be considered . . . ahem. . . appropriate for seminary or Valentine's Day or my children's delicate psyches. 

I did get some good diagrams...brains and organs and such. I know, I'm such a romantic.

And since breakfast was such a group affair, I've let my kids coerce me into a "special" Valentine's dinner for our little family tonight. I suppose Sterling and I will have our Valentine date this weekend. Per Jordan's request, we will be having Pioneer Woman's Fancy Macaroni. This is holiday food for a number of reasons: It has approximately 1,894 calories per serving (90% of which are fat). It calls for about $27 in cheese. And it's a bit time consuming for a weeknight. But never fear...my babies will be dining on expensive, fat-laden pasta this very Valentine night. Yay! Yay?

Hope your Valentine's Day is filled with love and thoughtfulness . . . and paper hearts.

hurray for Friday!

It's a rainy Friday here which has left me sleepy and slow-moving. Parker's a bit under the weather and is staying home with me today...which is not helping my motivation to be a super-achiever AT ALL. Instead we are watching TV and planning to pick up ChickFilA for lunch.

Here are a few links for your weekend perusal:

• Today, while lazing on the couch with Parker, I downloaded Flipboard for the iPad. Apps that consolidate social media seem to be especially helpful at the moment. Now I can peruse Facebook, Twitter, Googlereader, and Instagram all in one spot. Also, the way Flipboard formats all of your STUFF like a newspaper makes me happy.
• A childhood friend, Kate, sent me this link yesterday. If you are a writer, aim to be a writer, or have any interest whatsover in roadhouse singing...you should read this.
• I'm thinking of these to replace the funky chandeliers over our kitchen and dining room tables. And these to replace the pendants over the island. None of the original light fixtures are aesthetically pleasing to me. Sterling is unhappy to hear this news. Any lighting advice, O World Wide Web?
• I just started reading this blog. I love the photography and the vintage vibe. I found this post ("On Being a Man Who Knits") particularly interesting since my dissertation has everything to do with the intersection of domesticity and feminism. I, for one, greatly admire a man who knits. I sure wish Sterling could knit so he could help me work out the multiple knitting needle scenario. I'm going to talk to him about this tonight.
• Made tortilla soup and PW's lasagna for dinner this week. I'm not even a huge lasagna fan, and I adore PW's recipe. Try it. Tonight? Possibly PW's sloppy joes if I can make it into the kitchen to defrost the ground beef. I don't  know...that sounds fraught with difficulty.

Okay. Parker is tired of my association with this computer. I must. try. to. relate. to. my. people.

Happy weekend!

on teaching...

I'm going to be honest here. While I do a bit of sewing and crafting on my own, I'm not super good at involving my kids in the process. Part of it is I like the end result to be as perfect as possible, and part of it is that I have the patience of a three-year-old. Not even kidding.

I didn't learn to sew until I was an adult. My mother was (is) an excellent seamstress, but I didn't want to overtly be identified with anything too girly or domestic. Also, I'm sure I was lazy. My mom could do any needed sewing, which left me free to eat Blue Bell ice cream by the gallon while watching MASH reruns.

When Sterling and I graduated from BYU and were establishing our first real homestead, I determined that our lack of funds (for decorating) necessitated some sewing. We were going to need some drapes and pillows and such to dress up our rather small and dark new digs. After searching the Greensheet (this was pre-Craigslist days) I found an old, metal Pfaff sewing maching in Magnolia. My mother and I drove out to the country and were delighted to find a great machine in its own vintage cabinet. I was set.

And so I taught myself to sew. Pattern by pattern, mistake by mistake. There was much sewing and ripping out and resewing. And there might have been a bit of cursing. Also tantrum-throwing and high dramatics. But I learned to sew. Trial and error baby...story of my life.

This is all to explain just WHY I don't feel any burning passion to make my young girls sewers (is that even a word?). I figure if they really want it...they'll make it happen. (AND I don't want to prescribe any gender-specific hobbies.)

Today Becca was preparing the supplies to make these with her church group. We had planned to sew one in advance so we knew what we were doing. Really, I planned on sewing it while Becca looked on and handed me stuff. But then, out of sheer politeness, I asked if she wanted to sew it. And she said "yes." And I gulped and moved away from the machine.

As Becca was sewing (and I was cutting out more pieces), Maddie was playing Jar of Hearts on the piano so loudly the china was shaking. And the dog was barking wildly at the pool guy in the backyard. And I thought my entire being was going to burst into a zillion pieces and float away into the air conditioning vent.

But you know what? That little Becca did just fine. And looky here what she made:

And I felt all competent and motherly. 

For about seven minutes.

The end.

on clean living...

Guess what? I finished my Project Life week #5 yesterday. I know. It's pretty fun and makes me feel a little more with-it...like I'm driving this here life instead of being yanked along. But really, we all know there is a fair amount of yanking.

Did I tell you that Jordan had an interview with Brown last Saturday? I mention this not to be all braggy...as in "Jordan inverviewed with Brown University and then we had tea at the Four Seasons while discussing Foucault." No, it was more like an interview in an industrial part of Houston and then burritos at Chipotle afterwards.

See?

What I really want to tell you about, however, is that (according to Jordan) the bulk of the interview centered around her religion, and how that religion could or could not be compatible with the culture at Brown. Essentially, the interviewer made Brown sound rather like a Centre for Debauchery and wondered, to Jordan, how a conservative, little Mormon girl would handle such an environment. And what does she mean by conservative? Moral conservatism? I'm not sure the two ever got to the heart of that particular matter.

From what I can gather Jordan responded that a) she felt exposure to other beliefs and ways of life can enlarge and and enhance one's perspective and b) she felt perfectly comfortable abstaining from those activities she surmised to be of questionable morality. Hey! Just like high school.

And I was left to ponder just how many times we, as Mormons, must defend our right to practice life as we see fit. Jordan wasn't defending church doctrine...or her beliefs...but her lifestyle. How strange. How bizarre that an adult, with advanced degrees, would approach an 18 year old and wonder if they were fit to attend Brown and NOT engage with drugs and alcohol and sexual promiscuity -- almost as if an established acceptance and participation in these practices would make her a more whole student. Seriously? A focused and proven student with high moral standards? By all means...question her fitness for the most competitive academic institutions in the US based on her commitment to clean living.

What, I ask you, is this world coming to?

Wait. Don't answer that.

P.S. Despite my annoyance with the direction of the interview, I am rather grateful that the interviewer would be so frank about possible social conflicts. She did, in fact, admit that she participated in a Christian group at Brown that she found helpful.