The Opposite of Disconcerting is Concerting

All's well that ends well.

After a disconcerting beginning, the week ended well.  Here are a few of the highlights, in no particular order.  This is going to be quick and dirty because my house is, well...dirty.

1.  David took the girls to our ward's daddy-daughter camp-out on Friday night.    This is one of those things that only adds to my love affair with him.  He takes them every year, without fail and really spends time with them.  My girls love it.  They didn't get back until about 2 on Saturday afternoon and only then because Olivia was so excited to open her birthday presents.  I wish I had a picture of them, but I can easily imagine them in my mind, beaming all the way to the mountains.

They got a late start this year because David had a late budget meeting at the hospital, so they pumped up the air mattress and laid it in the back of the car instead of setting up the tent.  On Saturday morning the men in charge of the whole thing had brought BB guns and cups for the girls to shoot.  I know...I wouldn't have thought of that either.  But David just grinned when he was telling me about it and said that we really need to get some BB guns...apparently all of our kids are great shots.  He said we could hang cups and bottles from the trees in our backyard and let the kids shoot to their hearts content.  Of all the "wholesome recreational activities" out there, this is honestly one I have never considered.  Color me surprised.

2.  On Saturday night I met my mom at her stake center to watch the Relief Society General Broadcast from Salt Lake.  I just loved Elder Uchtdorf's talk.  It was exactly what I need to hear and, I thought, absolutely inspired in the way he talked about finding happiness through creation and compassion.  It seemed to raise most of the "ordinary" activities of my life into something much more exalted, and gave me a vision of what I'm really doing.  And I keep repeating the line, "Happiness is your heritage" to myself over and over.  It was a beautiful talk and I'm so happy to have heard it.

3.  A picture from my Saturday morning:

In addition to these three, I also made two lemon pies for Olivia.  Of all the pies, lemon is the most labor and time intensive.  But Olivia's effusive gratitude, makes the effort worth it every time.  There are two slices of the lemon left, and she and Caleb have plans to enjoy them as soon as they get home from school today.

4.  David and I had a long and lachrymose discussion with Caleb on Sunday afternoon.  The last month has been a bit emotional and difficult for him, and this has made living with him a bit more difficult as well.  We had a good talk on Sunday and he confessed that he has much more than he can handle on his plate right now and his stress level is very high.  David reminded all of us that Caleb is only in 5th grade, which made it easier to eliminate some of his heavy burdens in exchange for more play time.  This means that he is probably going to give up the aerospace project for this year (a hard one for him to let go of).  I went to bed feeling better about our relationship, but again wondering if I really have the skills to be a mother. 

5.  David brilliantly bought Olivia the first season of the Little House of the Prairie television show for her birthday and it has been running here ever since.  Can I say how fabulous it is?  I never saw this show growing up and was unfamiliar with it, but have been amazed at the wholesomeness and goodness of it, and absolutely astounded that it once played on national television.  So far we have seen the Ingalls family kneel in family prayer, go to church two times, learn lessons about keeping your word and the golden rule and charity.  When I compare this to what was offered from the networks on television this week, I am shocked, flummoxed, and disgusted by the changes that have occurred in my lifetime, and deeply saddened by the world my children face.  (see the last sentence of #4)  Give me strength.

Okay...admittedly those last two were a bit disconcerting, but for the most part we are determinedly moving on to "fealty."  Onward, ever onward...

Word of the Week: Effulgently

Editor's note:  I intended all last week to do a proper Mackinac post, with more pictures and lots of details, but here I am doing another word-of-the-week post with only a little SPT and holiday good wishes separating this "wow" and last week's.    A bit of vacation lag, I suppose, but I have more good intentions for this coming week.  (Ugh...I started this post two days ago and am watching all my good intentions die a slow, sad little death.)

effulgently  /adv./  shining forth brilliantly.  radiantly.  giving off light readily or in large amounts.  brightly.  luminously.  resplendently.

effulgently  /adv./  1.  We spent the week at David's parents' house, enjoying their little town and all of its charms.  David was born and raised here, but he never talked very effulgently about it, though I find it nothing but delightful.  I went to yoga at a little studio downtown on Tuesday afternoon and took a much-needed class.  On Thursday evening, we went to a concert by the Tridge (which is a 3-sided bridge) and then walked around Main Street window shopping and had pizza and the best ice cream I think I've ever had at Pizza Sam's.  We went back for more ice cream on Friday night and closed the place down.

effulgently  /adv./  2.  David and I went to dinner with our very good friends, Gary and Sara, on Wednesday night.  David and Gary grew up together and have been friends their entire lives.    Sara moved in during high school, and I happened along last and just feel lucky to know any of them.  It doesn't matter how long it's been since we've gotten together, it is instant joy to be reunited.  When we're with them, I laugh until the endorphins are just charging through me, and I feel crazy in love with all of them.  It really makes me just incredibly happy, and I left dinner smiling effulgently and wishing it wasn't so late so that we could talk for a few hundred more hours.

I snapped this picture on Sunday afternoon after the baptism of Sara and Gary's second son.  They blessed their fifth baby in Sacrament meeting this same Sunday.  We felt so lucky to share in all their joy.

effulgently  /adv./  3.  On Thursday we went to the Chippewa Nature Center and saw a whole lot of nature.  I kept throwing my arms out and saying, "Look at all this nature!"  To which David only indulgently smiled.  It really is quite astounding though.  The kids wanted to find frogs and armed with buckets and a fishing net they headed through the tall grass near the ponds.  Luckily, they didn't end up covered in poison ivy and actually found two very tiny frogs.  The girls effulgently carried them around in their red, plastic buckets, naming and mothering them, and sniffing a bit when it was time to let them go.  (We found out later that you have to step in the muck and wade through the nature to find the big frogs, but the girls were happy enough with their tiny ones.)  We saw cardinals and blue jays and other birds I've only read about or watched play baseball.  It was just incredible to see them in real life. 

On our way out we stopped by the Chippewa River and I told the kids to take off their shoes and wade in the river.  They said, "What's wading?"  Okay, there are some serious gaps in their childhoods here.  So I demonstrated and Caleb and I waded out to the middle of the river, just for fun.  The girls waded out and found some freshwater mussel shells and Olivia reverently declared them, "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen" and proceeded to fill her bucket to the brim.

effulgently  /adv./  4.  Our plans for the 4th of July  changed a bit mid-day, and we ended up staying in town for the fireworks.  We had a spectacular show on the grass near the Tridge and didn't even get eaten by mosquitoes as the city sprays the park really good in the days leading up to the show.  My favorite part of every show is watching my children's faces light up effulgently as the "bombs burst in air." 

(Incidentally, we had sparklers a few nights later as it was after midnight when we got home from the "big fireworks."  Of course Ethan burned his hand on the sparklers and cried anytime his hand was out of cold water the rest of the night.  My just desserts for bad-mouthing the Arizona legislature, I presume.)

effulgently  /adv./  5. We made it out to Wixom Lake on Saturday and had a great time tubing and jet-skiing...there was no waterskiing as the lake was busy and choppy, but my back was grateful for the reprieve.  Savannah was completely terrified of tubing, as last year she had a bad experience on the lake and wasn't about to forget it.  (One of the things my girls do best is remember their sufferings and/or tragedies.)  After a bit of prodding, I talked her into going with me on a "nice, slow ride" on an "easy tube," and she reluctantly got on with me and placed a white-knuckle grip on the tube.  We had a bit of trouble at first because she wanted to go so slowly that the tube couldn't plane on top of the water and we kept going under which completely terrified her.  But eventually we found a speed she could handle and she grinned effulgently at me and said, equally surprised and chagrined, "I like tubing.  I didn't know that." 

This was a "before" shot...Savannah is still uncertain about the decision to trust me.

effulgently  /adv./  6.  This week we also got to see David's brother, Jon, and his sister, Cyndi, and their families.  We spent most of the 4th together and then went to the lake with Cyndi and Jason (her husband) on Saturday.  My kids loved playing and swimming with their cousins, and I love that they get to spend these rare moments enjoying each other.  On Sunday we went to church with Cyndi and Jason and their kids, and Caleb sat with them in the row ahead of us next to his cousin, Tyler.  I had to swallow hard against the rising lump in my throat as I listened to these two, sitting side-by side, effugently and loudly singing out the words of the hymns, especially as they belted out, "the veil o'er the earth is beginning to burst."

Ethan and Caleb on the lawn with their two "Michigan" boy cousins.

effulgently  /adv./  7.  My in-laws are so good to let us come and invade their sanctuary for four weeks (can you believe this kind of hospitality?!), and are so generous to the kids with their time and hugs and care.  David's mom has MS and so she is down in bed a bit, but the kids just love to climb on her bed and get their one-on-one chat time.  The kids guard these moments jealously and sneak up to see her whenever they can.  Both of David's parents have such of gift of really listening and the kids just soak it up.  They emerge from these impromtu sessions beaming effulgently and busting with pride and self-esteem.  Bless them. 

Word of the Week: Halcyon

halcyon  /adj./  calm, peaceful, tranquil.   rich, wealthy, prosperous.  happy, joyful.  carefree.  bucolic.  idyllic.  contented.  unruffled.  golden.

halcyon  /adj./  1.  Halcyon is just the perfect word to describe our days in Michigan.  The weather is perfect and my kids have spent hours and hours just playing.  I know that doesn't sound like much, but it's so good for them and so good for me.  We wake late, we eat late, we go to the movies when we want, we take turns in the swing outside, we wonder what day it is and marvel at what time it is.  These are the carefree, halcyon days I have dreamed about for nine months.

halcyon  /adj./  2.  We took a trip up to Northern Michigan at the end of last week and spent a few halcyon hours on the beach of Lake Michigan in the Upper Peninsula, just a few miles over the bridge.  The water is ice cold, but the kids don't mind a bit and even I got in for a while.  The beaches are just what you would imagine (or at least just what I would imagine) with sand drifts and grasses making bunkers along the shoreline to protect you from the wind.  My kids can spend hours at the beach doing absolutely nothing, a quality I desperately love and wholly appreciate.

Sorry for all these pictures.  David asked this morning, "How are you going to choose?"  How indeed.  I had 285 pictures on my camera after the weekend...I need to do a slide show, but don't have the technology in my current location...

Can you see the bridge in the background?  David will want me to point out that it is 5 miles long and the only thing connecting upper and lower Michigan...aren't you glad you know that?

halcyon  /adj./  3.  We camped for three nights at a campground just outside of Mackinac City, so that we could take the ferry over to Mackinac Island for a couple of days.  Our camping experience wasn't completely carefree as we battled 6-foot-long mosquitoes and lots of rain at night.  But David cleaned the camp store out of bug repellent and the inside of our tent stayed relatively dry, so we managed alright.  When we woke Saturday morning it was still raining a bit, so we stayed in the tent and played a game of "Bohnanza" (our new favorite game) amid the sleeping bags and pillows, a rare halcyon morning in our pajamas.  The rain slowed everything down and this turned out to be a great blessing, until it was time to pack up our soggy campsite. 

halcyon  /adj./  4.  We spent two days on Mackinac Island, the most halcyon spot on earth.  We rode the ferry over from Mackinac City on Friday and Saturday and had two absolutely perfect days there.  There are no cars on the island and so we took the kids' bikes and rented a tandem bike for David and me, and rode our way around the island.  I honestly think this is the happiest I am all year...watching my children ride their bikes along a tree-lined path, with Lake Huron on one side and the sun shining over everything.  It reminds me of the carefree halcyon days I read about in books as a child, like The Five Little Peppers.  A quiet, schedule-free, hustle-and-bustle-free world that my children have never known.  We spent our days there doing lots of nothing: riding our bikes, skipping rocks, swimming in Lake Huron, getting lemonades at the Cannonball, visiting the library, eating lunch at the Grand Hotel, flying our kite, playing croquet, eating fudge and hamburgers on the lawn, taking an old-time beach photo, looking for Petosky stones on the beach, laying on the grass at Mission Point.  I always tell David, "Next time let's spend a week."  I hope someday we can. 

Here we are at mile marker 6...only eight miles around the whole island.  This is only state road in Michigan where cars are not allowed.

halcyon  /adj./  5.  From Mackinac we went to Petosky for church (you should have seen the looks we got coming out of the camp showers in our suits and dresses!!)  and then through Charlevoix (which I love!) and onto Traverse City where we stayed at the Wolf Lodge.  The kids had a great time playing in their indoor water park and we played a few more hundred rounds of Bohnanza.  I slept for almost 12 hours and David woke me up 10 minutes before check-out and said, "Guess what time it is?"  We scrambled to get our stuff together and then rented a cabana for the rest of the day at the waterpark, a halcyon way to spend the day there...we could play games and eat and talk and the kids would come and check in every once in a while and then run off to go down another slide or jump across the lily pads. 

halcyon  /adj./  6.  These past 10 days have been like being in someone else's life.  I watch my kids on the beach or riding their bikes and I just marvel that they are mine.  David and I came to Mackinac Island on our honeymoon, thirteen years ago, and though the halcyon days of early marriage are far behind us, I can see how there are even better days than those to live right now, and many more ahead of us.  I remember riding our tandem bike around the island when it was just the two of us, and then last year I was astounded to look behind me and see four little people riding behind us.  When did that happen?  And this year I was completely humbled to see these same little people riding ahead of us, already knowing where to go and what they wanted to see.  What in the world?  It's hard to catch my breath as I watch my past and present collide right in front of me.   These moments are so big for me, like giant chunks of eternity falling around me and my arms just aren't big enough to hold them all.

Summer Conga Line

Okay, this is just for me. 

So that when they're fifteen and want nothing to do with their brothers and sisters or singing and dancing in public, I can remember when they did.

I love summer.  And childhood.

Mother's Day Recap

Mother's Day has come and almost gone. 

I got two naps.  Breakfast in bed, and dinner without lifting a finger.

It was a good day.

I had a little epiphany at church today.  The man that was speaking quoted the First Presidency by saying, "Motherhood is the highest and holiest calling."  And then he said, "I think this means that it is also the hardest."  And I had a little revelation.  Somehow, even though I firmly believe the words about "highest and holiest" with all my heart, I never equated them with blood, sweat, and tears.  I somehow thought my work needed to be more peaceful and perfect and I was falling far below the mark.  Today I see that my work is high, and holy, and hard.  And now I am peaceful.

On Friday, Savannah had a little program in her 1st grade class for Mother's Day.  And yes I got choked up.  Happens every time.  We took a quick self-portrait...note my crown.

And yesterday we had a little Mother's Day celebration for my mom...and the kids swam of course, even though they were blue and shivering by the time they climbed out.  The only downside of a pleasant, "cool" spring is that the pool heats up slower.  I'll take the trade-off of course.

I love being a mother, and especially to these particular children.  They are more than I deserve in every way.

Word of the Week: Chimera

chimera /n. /  a fanciful mental illusion or fabrication.  any imaginary monster made up of grotesquely incongruous parts.  a dream, fantasy, or delusion.  a fantastic, impracticable plan or desire.  pipe dream.

chimera  /n./  1.  My plans and goals this week to write more posts between my word-of-the-week posts were apparently only a wistful chimera, made (no doubt) in a moment of supreme delusion.

This was my SPT for "Green Week."  Eating (and loving) hummus are about as green and granola as I get.  When David saw this picture in my camera he said, incredulously, "Did you really take a picture of yourself with hummus?"

chimera  /n./  2.  Savannah faced off against the Terra Nova tests (our state's test for 1st graders) this week.  Her anxiety and terror had turned these into a chimera of unbelievably difficult and horrendous proportions.   She was just sure that she would never be able to go to second grade.  She was literally coming apart when I sent her to school on Monday morning.  We did a few breathing exercises, said a prayer, and went through all the "worst scenarios" possible...all to no avail.  She could not be mollified or comforted.   I finally gave up and sent her off anyway, tears still streaming down her cheeks.   She came home with a bashful smile.

chimera  /n./  3.  The kids had a rare Friday off school and so we took full advantage of it and headed up to the mountains to camp.  It has been steadily getting warmer and warmer here and I was under some kind of delusion that it is, therefore, hot everywhere.  This turned out to be more chimera than reality.  We froze the first night and so the next day, I sent David into the nearest town with instructions to spend enough money at Walmart to keep us warm.   He did.  And commented that we could have stayed at the Best Western for cheaper.  Well.  At least I remembered to pack the swimsuits.  Yes, really.  Hey, there was a pond nearby.  And the kids may have wanted to swim once the thin crust of ice melted.

S'mor-ing it with my boys. 

chimera  /n./  4.  Ethan is completely in his element while camping.  We almost didn't go, due to the length of my current to-do list, but then while I was madly trying to cross a few things off it, Ethan said, "Mom, this is the best day of my life.  We're going camping today."  New list:  "Things to pack for camping."  (Somehow swimsuits instead of sweatshirts made it onto this list, but I digress.)  We went camping with "friends-with-toys" and Ethan was in all kinds of bliss riding quads and playing in the woods.  At one point he went flying off one of the quads (driven by a five-year-old) and after landing face down in the dirt shouted, "That was AWESOME!"  He turned into quite the chimera of dirt, popsicle, and campfire smoke.  Like I said, completely in his element.

chimera  /n./  5.  My kids rode quads for the first time this past weekend.  I was beyond nervous about this, but somehow they miraculously escaped injury and catastrophe.  (This even despite Olivia's uncanny tendency to turn her handlebars the exact opposite way she wanted to go.  I explained that you turn it just like a bike, but somehow the motor confused the whole situation.  I had a brief view of an inevitable moment coming during Driver's Ed. training.)  They had such a riot riding around, but their dreams of actually owning one of our own is simply a lovely chimera.

Word of the Week: Ineffable

ineffable  /adj. /  incapable of being expressed or described in words. incredible. unspeakable.  not to be spoken because of its sacredness, unutterable.  incomprehensibly delightful or joyful.  transcendent.  beyond words.

ineffable  /adj./  1.  When I posted this word for the week, I honestly thought that this was not really "possible."  That no matter what happened, I could always "speak" about it, always be able to describe it, put it into words.  But I find myself full of ineffable feelings and struggling for a way to say it all.  Damn the undeniable, inevitable destiny of the word-of-the-week. 

ineffable  /adj./  2.  This week was Quilt Retreat.  Those five words are about all I can manage and seem to say it all for me.  My kids call it "Quilt Retreatment."  And it's just that.  Treatment, therapy, counselling with scissors and fabric.  This weekend with my aunts and cousins and sisters and mother, fills me in ineffable ways, reminds me that I can do my job, and I can do it with more joy and gladness.  And as silly as it sounds, it is truly almost too sacred for me to describe properly.  It means that much.  Ineffable is just the word.  This magical weekend reminds me most of Shakespeare's line:  "Converting all your sounds of woe, into Hey nonny, nonny."

I will do a proper post on all the details of the retreat when I am a bit more composed about its being over.  I'm afraid today it would be a completely sentimental, maudlin affair. 

ineffable  /adj./  3.  Because I was "off" for the weekend, David took the kids with him to Medical Staff Retreat in Tucson.  The medical staff always stays somewhere really nice and this year was no exception.  They all had a fabulous time swimming and playing when David wasn't in meetings and going to Kids Camp when he was.  One night David had all their "auras" read.  Yes, really.  (I turn my back for a minute and look what happens.)  They called me and reported the conclusions of their aura readings in awestruck voices.  Later I heard Savannah excusing her unsisterly behavior by reminding Olivia of her red and orange aura and the strong will that went along with it.  Concerned about the implications, I tried to explain to them that this was just "for fun" and wasn't an incontrovertable, definitive, lifetime personality statement.  They all looked at me utterly crestfallen, dismayed by my unbelieving heart at their ineffable experience with the aura reader. 

ineffable  /adj./  4.  This week was also my birthday.  My girls were in tears (of concern and dismay) that I didn't get a birthday cake (or pie) or "blow out the candles," but there was birthday fried ice cream which was absolutely delicious.  

I received lots of very nice presents from my sisters, my mom, my husband and my sweet kids, including a necklace that Olivia bought me to replace my wedding ring (her words).  I received a darling apron from my sister-in-law Beckie...don't you think everything I make wearing this will just taste better? 

And I got about the nicest note a girl could want from David's parents.  Made me tear up.  Plus a puzzle for the coming summer and our requisite hibernation.

My heart was also ineffably full and touched by the sweet messages of my very good friends Amy, Kelly and Tiffany, and my sister Rachel who all posted birthday wishes.  David, just reading them last night, said, "That was so fun read and to see that other people love you for the same reasons I love you."  I am so happy to be loved by these wonderful girls.  Then and now.  And cannot express my ineffable joy at how blogging has brought us all back together. 

ineffable  /adj./  5.  It was Tiffany's birthday this past week as well.  I am so grateful for her and her ineffable goodness.  There is no other way to describe her.  She is so good.  So true.  So constant.  So wise.  I remember when we were all young and dreamy having a discussion about the qualities we wanted in a husband.  Tiff said she wanted someone who was kind.  "Kind?"  I said dismissively.  "Any quality in the world and you pick 'kind'?"  And as it turns out, it is the only quality that really matters in a marriage.  She was always that wise.  Happy Birthday, Tiff.

ineffable  /adv./  6.  Inspired by Kelly's post, I have tried a few new hair do's on my girls this past week.  But somehow since the last time I french braided their hair, my girls have grown up.  My girls were all giggles to discover that I needed to stand on our little step stool in order to braid the top of their heads and reminded me that they used to be the ones to have to stand on the stool.  I was reduced to tears at this observation and when they questioned me I could only shrug ineffably.  How could I say that in just one moment they had gone from little to grown, from "at-my-breast" to "out-the-door"?  How could I say just how much I loved them and what beautiful young girls they had suddenly become?  How could I say that my life is passing as if in a dream and how badly I wished we could all be just here, in this moment, forever?

Overdue Easter Thoughts

The thing I love most about Easter is that, for us, it is almost entirely simply a spiritual holiday.  I love that the world and all its materialism hasn't got its meaty little hands into this part of my life.  It is really just about remembering our Savior and all that He did for us.

My parents do an egg hunt in their gorgeous backyard...they always set up and provide the egg-coloring (my mom boiled 5 dozen eggs!) and the hunt.  I don't even have to boil an egg or remember to buy vinegar.  This year Ethan surprised everyone with his competitive angst over finding eggs.  This was no surprise to us that live with him.  He just hates to lose.  At anything.

On Sunday morning I awoke early to attend the annual Easter Morningside that our stake holds for the youth.  This is held every Easter morning at the temple.  An unbelievable way to start this sacred day.  Every year as I arise in the dark and dress, my mind is drawn to Mary Magdalene.  And as I dress, I see her doing the same and in the quiet dawn making her way to the tomb.  It is a powerful moment for me.  And then we spend an hour in front of the temple, remembering that because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ we can be saved from death and hell and sealed together for eternity.

At church I taught the young women's lesson and gave each of the girls their own copy of the March Ensign which is all about our Savior.  We read parts of it together and sang hymns between readings.  

My favorite moment of the weekend came as we sang the closing hymn together at sacrament meeting, Christ the Lord is Risen Today.  Though none of us can really sing, my family nevertheless really FEELS the hymns soul-deep.  This one was no exception.  As I looked down the bench at my family, they were all singing "Al-le-lu-ia!"  at the top of their lungs.  I was completely undone watching Ethan belting out his joy along with the rest of my children.  And I thought, "Yes, sing!  Sing!  Because of Him you are mine forever."

After church we had a very nice Easter dinner with Tim & Christine, my parents, and Emily and David.

Before I close this post and my Easter season, I thought I would leave something I read last fall, but has stayed with me ever since.  I think of it often and maybe it will bless your life as well.  It was given in a talk at BYU by Thomas B. Griffith.  He said:

In the last revelation Joseph Smith received before he was permitted to organize Christ’s Church on the earth—in what was the capstone of Joseph Smith’s preparation to be an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ—the Lord gave the only first-person detailed account of the suffering He endured so that we would not need to suffer the full effects of our disobedience:

For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; . . .

Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink— [D&C 19:16, 18]

There is something curious about this narrative. Verse 18 ends with a dash. The Savior did not complete His thought. Why? I don’t know, but I am persuaded by the explanation that the Savior might have cut short His description of what He suffered because it was too painful for Him—some 1,800 years after the event—to complete the description (see Eugene England, The Quality of Mercy [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1992], 52). Now what kind of a God do we worship? An awesome God who wants us to know that His love for us is infinite and eternal. A God who wants us to know that His love for us gave Him the strength to suffer for us. Knowing this ought to be enough to move us to submit our lives to Him in obedience and gratitude.

I can hardly bear to think of it and I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me.

Word of the Week: Nonplus

nonplus /vt. /  to put at a loss as to what to think, say, or do.  bewilder.  to render utterly perplexed.  puzzle completely.  baffle.  astound.  dismay.  daze.  boggle.  flummox.  

nonplus  /vt./  1.  I almost didn't go on Spring Break.  The to-do list almost won.  Given the perfect time we enjoyed and the joyful decompression that occurred, I am completely nonplussed as to how this can be.  How can I let any "list" win over this kind of joy...and yet it seems to more than I would like.   I am nonplussed at this obvious character flaw.

nonplus  /vt./  2.  We drove to Santa Barbara on Wednesday,  arriving in LA about 1 or 2 in the afternoon...well out of the "rush hour traffic" window and yet, I was nonplussed to find myself in the midst of this:

nonplus  /vt./  3.  Last night I watched Masterpiece Theatre's version of Emma.  And was nonplussed to find that I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as I had planned to.  I think I just really and truly dislike Emma herself and am nonplussed at how and why Mr. Knightley falls in love with her.  And then this morning I found this: "Prior to starting the novel, Austen wrote, 'I am going to take a heroine whom no-one but myself will much like.'"  Job well done.

nonplus  /vt./  4.  The weather is starting to heat up already here and that means the scorpions are starting to reappear, nevertheless I was still nonplussed to see this one scurrying across my kitchen floor yesterday morning...it had been so long since we had seen one I was beginning to think we had them all eradicated.  Unfortunately, this is not the case.  (Kel, in case you were wondering, this is one for the "con" column.)

nonplus  /vt./  5.  My washer has been on the fritz lately.  It washes just fine but then gets confused when it's time to rinse.  In its confusion, it stops and wonders what to do next.  In order to get my laundry done, I figured out a way to trick it into thinking it's washing when it's really rinsing.  This means a whole little "protocol" that has to be followed in order to do a load of laundry.  Annoying, but clearly cheaper than calling the repairman.  Then this morning, I was utterly nonplussed to discover that the washer has overcome its confusion and was cheerfully running through all the cycles with no problem whatsoever.  I am all bafflement at this happy and fortuitous turn of events.

nonplus  /vt./  6.  The only bad part about our California roadtrip was the price of a gallon of gas.  (Not to mention the price of 78 gallons of gas.)  I was nonplussed at the cost to fill my tank, but luckily this was offset by the benefits of filling "my other tank."  Nevertheless, after 1100 miles, the rest of my March budget is clearly a bit nonplussed at what's left.  Budgets rarely understand psychological needs...they are somehow always ridiculously consumed by the physical needs of food and shelter and clothing.

nonplus  /vt./  7.  Olivia has been lately begging to "do some knittin" (her words).  Somehow this little activity has never made it to the top of my to-do list and so last night after Easter dinner, my mom got out the crochet hooks and patiently taught the girls how to chain.  Though this has resulted in mostly nonplussed expressions and piles of knotted yarn, the girls are loving their new "talent" and have grand plans to knit their American Girl dolls scarves and sweaters for the coming summer.

 

nonplus  /vt./  8.  I think our bunny, Pepper, was nothing but nonplussed on Saturday afternoon when the girls dressed her for the Easter egg hunt at my parents' house.  Oh the humanity.

Actually it could have been worse.  Luckily for Pepper, they were nonplussed to discover that their little doll shoes wouldn't stay on. 

Spring Break Nutshell

I always resist leaving.  The laundry.  The packing.  The cleaning.  The making arrangements.  The cleaning out the fridge. 

And then as soon as I'm out the door I wonder why we don't do more of this.

We spent Tuesday at Sea World.  Ethan declared it the best day of his life, and it was up there for me as well.  The San Diego weather was perfect and my kids were at the perfect age to really enjoy the park.  Although Olivia did think she was too young to go to the Sesame Street 4D interactive film, mortified to the point of tears...what if someone finds out?!...but when it was over she sadly said, "That's the end?"  Ethan was just barely tall enough (we told him to stand on his tiptoes) to ride the rides with us and was out of his mind with joy on the "Journey to Atlantis."  We stayed almost til closing, but had gotten our jackets wet on the rides and were really cold by the time 8:30 rolled around.  So we headed back to the hotel for a round of hot baths.

On Wednesday, Dave took a cab to the airport and I successfully managed to get the car out of the tight parking garage (I told you I could do it) and we headed for Santa Barbara.  

After successfully navigating LA traffic, we spent the next three glorious days with our good friends from graduate school.  Alexis was such a gracious host (even though our visit was hot on the heels of other company) and we had a wonderful time together.  She is, as always, just what I needed.

My favorite part of the whole trip came on Thursday afternoon, when I took my kids to the nearby beach.  There was a breeze blowing and the Pacific water is just as cold as it always was, but my kids still wanted to swim and play in the surf.  I spent one of the best afternoons of my life sitting against some big rocks with the sun warming my face, watching my children play in the ocean.  After a while Ethan got cold enough to come for a jacket and a snuggle and he fell asleep on me while the other kids built sandcastles with connecting "canal systems."  My heart nearly burst at the joy of that contented, peaceful moment.

We headed for home late Friday afternoon.  Crazy to go so late and right in the middle of Friday night traffic, but by then I was longing to see David and the kids were starting to be a bit affected by all the late night sleepover chatting (yes, the tears were starting to come fast and furious), so we said our goodbyes with promises of a reunion in Big Bear as soon as possible, and started for home. 

 Spring break was the perfect antidote for a looming breakdown, for me and the kids.  We're almost there...just two more months.  Olivia was all anxiety and stress this morning, scared she had forgotten everything and the impending AIMS tests have her in full panic-mode.  I am so glad we had last week together.

I made this little video because there were just so many pictures...too many to post (though clearly it will be of little interest to anyone but me).  David thinks my second song choice is nothing short of dumb, but I love it, so there you go.   Before everything else...before school and friends and scouts and achievement days and violin and dance and all they have going on in their little lives...I loved them first.  They were mine first (and always) and I jealously guard these moments with them.