Word of the Week: Passel

passel  /n./  an indeterminately great amount or number. a lot. multiplicity. a great deal. abundance. profusion. jillion. ream. heap. peck.

passel  /n./  1.  I have a passel of posts in my head.  I told David that I might as well just give up.  He told me it's only been four days since my last post, that I can't be that far behind.  He has (luckily) never been inside my mind.  He'd be shocked at how much my brain can produce in four days time.  And most of it crazy.

passel  /n./  2.  This week I had my one year blogiversary.  (I meant to do a whole post on it, but I had a peck of things to catch-up on after returning from Houston and Halloween stole the rest of the week.)  There are so many things I love about this milestone, not the least of which is the passel of daily, seemingly ordinary moments that make up my life, now real and recorded, forever.  Because of this blog I have more photos, I am more introspective, I am more kind (even to myself), I am more aware of my present, and I have fewer regrets.  That's a passel of reasons to keep going.

passel  /n./  3.  I had a great time at Quilt Market with my aunt and my mom and felt (above all) extremely useful, which is, occasionally, a really nice feeling to have.  I came home with a passel of new projects and ideas and handmade Christmas gift ideas.  Now I just need a passel of free hours to get to them.    

passel  /n./  4.  My favorite moment of the Halloween festivities this week came on Wednesday when Ethan and I went hunting for four perfect pumpkins among the passels of them at our local farmer's market.  We had a little carving party on Thursday night.  My parents came for dinner, and as payment we required them help one of the kids clean out and carve their pumpkin.  Divide and conquer, as it were.  My mom wondered out loud how she did it with nine of us.  I always wonder that.  No matter the subject.  We had pumpkin pie for dessert (Ethan's idea) which turned out to be the perfect ending.

passel /n./  5.  My children celebrated Halloween this week (a separate post altogether), and I celebrated it being over.  Now I just have a passel of candy that I need to discretely get rid of.  Usually I just let my kids eat themselves sick for two days and have done with it, but this year they got so much, we've still got a giant bowl full.  I'm already tired of the wrappers, the smashed-in goo, and the chocolate fingerprints around my house.  Really, I just don't get the point of it at all.  Boo.

passel  /n./  6.  David and I have been sick for the last couple of days.  Nothing serious.  Just complete fatigue, sore throats, headaches.  But feeling bad enough to require a passel of naps.  I was in and out of consciousness all afternoon yesterday.  During these naps I had a passel of disconcertingly bad dreams, one yesterday that is still haunting me and may have been the worst I've ever had, and one today which was all about the word "ascribed."  (Yes, really.)  I'm finally feeling a bit better, (David thinks this is all due to the medicine he force fed me) but I'm now filled with dread and that slightly panicky feeling that I've lost more hours than I'll ever be able to make up. 

Word of the Week: Otiose

otiose /adj./  lazy or indolent.  of no use.   ineffective or futile.  idle.  laggard.  slothful.  pointless.  profitless.  worthless.  hollow.  superfluous.

otiose /adj./  1.  I'm making myself write this post.  David, for one, wishes I would have written it yesterday.  (I had a rough night, all too terribly aware of my otiose homemaking efforts in the face of stupid and constant entropy.)  So here goes.  First the word itself.  Talk about otiose.  The "t" right in the middle of this word serves as a case in point, as it is pronounced "oh-shee-ohs."  That "t" seems equally lazy, ineffective, pointless, and superfluous.

otiose /adj./  2.  Ethan had three days off school this week and we had such an enjoyable time together, it made me wonder (yet again) if pre-K isn't a completely otiose endeavor.  But then I went to his parent-teacher conference and they showed me how week by week his ability to write his name has improved.  I got a little teary at his progress and even a little proud, despite myself.

otiose /adj./  3.  Caleb had his first official boy scout camp-out this week and David was good enough to go with him.  The camporee was held next to part of the Mormon Battalion trail and as part of the camp they did a 6 or 7 mile hike along the trail (through the middle of the desert) with stops and challenges along the way.  They came back hot and sunburned.  (I packed Caleb an otiose sweatshirt and long pants, instead of sunscreen.  Sounds about right.) 

 

otiose /adj./  4.  Thursday this week was "National Boss's Day."  (Which is quite an otiose minor holiday when you really think about it.)  But they celebrated it at the hospital.  When David came home with a balloon and goodies, Olivia asked incredulously, "You're the boss?"  When David smiled and said he was, Olivia commented that she had no idea. 

otiose /adj./  5.  Caleb is still working on his aerospace project, and I spent about eight otiose hours this weekend helping him with it.  I think I am quite possibly the most otiose "parent coach" ever (ineffective and worthless, not idle or lazy), and am just trying to figure out what we can come up with in 6 more weeks that will be worth standing up in front of a half dozen NASA scientists for.  We are still in the "life-support" stage (do you know how much water and oxygen 100 people use in 2 years time!), though we did make some progress yesterday as a group on the social/cultural/political aspects of the project.  Meanwhile, I am spending my "free time" reading articles about humanure...which is exactly what you think it is.

otiose /adj./  6.  On Saturday morning, while David and Caleb were at the scout camporee, the other kids and I helped out on an Eagle scout project, painting fire hydrants.  The kids were hesitant, at first, to spend their "play day" out in the hot sun doing "scouts" (Olivia says the word with particular revulsion), but all their protestations became otiose once they saw they got to wield their very own paintbrushes.  We had a great time, and even managed to keep most of the bright yellow, enamel-based paint on the actual hydrants...though there are a few obvious bits in David's car.  (David had the camera so you will just have to imagine our sweaty, paint-spotted faces grinning at you from behind a fire hydrant right here.)

This and That and an Appearance by CIM

Not much to say, but need to talk.  Be forewarned, this is mostly CIM at work.  I'm afraid RIM has flown north for the winter.

This:

This week Ethan only had to go to school on Monday and Tuesday and so we had an outing yesterday, to Target, then to Sweetcakes (our secret lunch spot), then to the museum, the library (of course), and finally the grocery store.  Ethan told me he wasn't bored the whole day. 

We're at my favorite part of the Book of Mormon in family scripture study.  Ether, chapter 2.  Though I'm crazy about chapters 3 and 6 as well.  After we had read the chapter, I tried to explain to the kids why I liked it so much.  I said it was like a metaphor for our lives, and asked them if they knew what a metaphor was.  Olivia raised her hand and said, "It doesn't use 'like' or 'as.'"  Correct darling.  (She's been doing metaphors and similes all week at school.)  And then I explained the metaphor and bore my testimony.  A pause for impact.  And then Olivia raised her hand again.  She asked, "Mom do you want to hear the simile I wrote?  The koala is as fluffy as a pillow."  I looked at David who was discretely grinning behind his book.  This is because he finds it charming that I would try to explain my metaphor to the children, and he finds it even more charming that the whole time I was talking, Olivia was thinking about koala bears.

Olivia had an impromptu tea party with her friends yesterday.  She dressed up, of course.  Complete with a hat.  But her bike had a flat.  Miraculously, I had a tube on the shelf and offered to change it for her.  She was skeptical, but agreed.  Halfway through the project I sent her on Savannah's bike because I am not nearly as handy as I thought I was.  An hour later (well-spent, no?) I had the tube changed and pumped up and Savannah took it on a test drive to the mailbox.  I congratulated myself on my brilliance and proceeded to clean up the tools and popped tube.  By the time I did that and went back to park Olivia's bike, could hear a soft hissing and found this:

Apparently I put a hole in the tube as I was putting the new one on her bike.  Which is a real shame.

That:

Savannah came home from school yesterday and said, "Hi, Mom.  You look pretty."  That made my day.

And David came home at 6:30.  That made me over the moon.  How's that for a metaphor? 

Last night was the final presidential debate. (Thank heavens.)  I cannot bear another word from either candidate.  David had it on while we were finishing dinner and I started answering the questions for the candidates.  They would uncanniliy say the exact same thing a few moments later.  Savannah's eyes got bigger and bigger.  She asked me how I knew what they were going to say.  That, my dear, is because I have heard it all too many times.  I can recite their speeches for them.  And that is why I cannot wait for election day.

An Appearance by CIM:

Last night there was nothing on TV (including the debate), and so David and I went to bed early and talked, which turned out not to be early after all and was, in fact, rather late once we finally went to sleep.  I started the discussion by unleashing CIM from her carefully controlled enclosure and telling David that I was desperately failing at everything, and I was pretty sure I never choose "best" when given a choice between good, better, and best, and by the way I was going to shut down my blog as well.  He tried to reasonably talk me through my crisis of confidence and eventually we ended up on safer ground talking about his life at the hospital.  And eventually CIM settled down and went to sleep.  And this is why I love that man.

"Ahhh, Y-ness"

This is what Olivia sighed and said when we reached the "Y" on Friday afternoon. 

A few of the highlights of our quick trip to Utah:

1.  I hiked "the Y" for the first time.  David cannot believe this and believes he has saved me from tragedy by insisting that I complete this BYU tradition.

2.  The hike to "the Y" takes 10 switchbacks up the mountain.  The kids begged to go back to the car by the second one...but we did eventually make it, much to their delight and surprise.  Savannah noted our speed and asked, "Mom, have you noticed that everyone keeps passing us?"  Luckily speed doesn't count.

3.  Once we reached "the Y" I was terrified that someone was going to fall to their death.  My terror made David grin.  I was relieved and happy when we finally started back down without incident.

4.  On our way down from "the Y" Ethan told me that he wanted to hike all the letters in the alphabet.  He told me he knew where there was a "G" and a "K" and we could skip "Y" since we had done it first.

5.  It snowed!  On October 12th!  The kids were delighted of course.

6.  I kept our tradition of "buying-a-new-sweatshirt-for-everyone-every-time-we-go-somewhere" alive and well.  Even though I packed the warmest stuff we had.  It was not enough and we ended up buying everyone a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  Maybe we'll turn the air conditioner on in January and everyone can dress up again.

7.  We visited David's sister, Lori, and her family on Friday night and then met up with them again after the game on Saturday.  It was so good to see them all again and the kids revelled in the "cousin time."

8.  We also had a brief visit with David's brother, Greg, and his wife, Becca.  They were on their way to celebrate their 1st anniversary, which just made me wonder as I looked at my growing kids sprawled around their living room.  It really wasn't that long ago.  Greg made a brilliant recommendation for hot chocolate with a squirt of soft vanilla ice cream at the Maverick down the street and we went in and got six. 

9.  We were grateful to stay with my gracious and generous (and talented) Aunt Jill.  (Thank you!)  She always makes you feel like you are no trouble at all, even when your kids track brand new snow all over her wood floor. 

10.  One of the delights of the trip was going to the new Hinckley alumni building.  While the girls and I were in the bathroom, David found a donor book and we were both excited to see our names listed.  And I was twice happy to find out that I don't spend all of my money on children's books or sweatshirts.

11.  The Cougars won, much to Ethan's relief.  The game was cold, but in the crisp-fall-pink-cheek way.  My kids are still slathering chapstick on their chapped lips.  It makes me happy every time I look at them.  We bundled up in blankets and drank hot chocolate and sang the BYU fight song.  It was pretty near heaven.

12.  We made obligatory stops at the Creamery, the Gameroom, and the Bookstore.  All the kids found a book to buy and I had to grin at all the lustful bibliophiles I've raised.  We only window shopped though, and everyone started filling out their mental Christmas lists.

13.  And finally, this is for David:

It's Hard (for me for you) To Be Five

Ethan had his fifth birthday this week.  David's parents sent him Jamie Lee Curtis' book It's Hard to Be Five.  I agree, and have added my own bit to the title.  The fact that my baby is five is quite disconcerting and I've even felt a bit of grief at this milestone. 

Ethan's life is a miracle.  My doctor still gets chills when he thinks about what could have been.  Beyond that, every day of regular, ordinary, real life with him is a miracle.  He makes all of us more fun.  As Caleb always says, Ethan is a light.  Ethan always asks me why he was born last.  I tell him Heavenly Father knew we would need some comic relief here in the wilderness and so He sent you just in time.  He always says, "No, not that.  Really why?"  And I say I don't know, but I'm sure glad you came.

In his honor, here are five things he said this week that made me smile, with a few pictures from the day:

1.  Ethan roars when he goes to the bathroom.  It is hilarious.  (And disconcerting for Caleb when he has to accompany him into a public restroom.)  A few days ago after the roaring, we overheard, "I'm getting the hang of this."

2.  After I asked him what he wanted for his birthday dinner he said, "Spaghetti with no salad."  That is exactly what we had.

3.  (Very loudly at the grocery store check-out)  "Wow Mom, we got a TON of YOGURT.  A TON!!  Is it a YOGURT HOLIDAY?!!"  The clerk grinned through our entire check-out. 

4.  I took the kids to the dentist on Tuesday morning.  The hygienist who was cleaning Ethan's teeth asked, "Does your mom help you floss your teeth?"  He answered, "No, my mom doesn't believe in floss."  (That was supposed to be a secret.)

5.  As I tucked him in last night I asked him if he'd had a good day.  He made a happy sighing sound and then said, "Yes.  All my days are good days."

What I Overheard

I haven't written in a few days, and consequently, my brain doesn't rightly know where to begin.

So I'll just relay a conversation I heard yesterday between Ethan and his friend, Ashton. (For weeks we didn't know who Ashton was.  His possible name became the topic of many dinner conversations.  Eventually I tasked Savannah with the job of finding out who this little boy was.  But then we still didn't know what his last name was or how to get a hold of him.  Two days ago Ashton's big sister put a note in Ethan's pocket that said, "Ashton wants to play!"  It included his whole name and phone number.  I smiled to myself thinking that Ashton's family had had many of the exact same dinner conversations about just who this Ethan was.  But Ashton's mom brilliantly figured out a way to get them together.  I have no idea why this never occurred to me.)

Anyway...yesterday at my bar:

E:  Do you know what's in that bowl?

A:  Fruit.

E:  Yeah, but what kind of fruit?

A:  I don't know.

E:  It's peaches.  We eat lots of peaches.

(a pause)

E:  Except not all the time.  It's a peach holiday.

I grinned for a long time about that.

Sweet Nothings

I am madly in love with the three guys at my house.  Here are three more reasons my crush keeps growing.

1.

Last week, after reading the "doughtily" post, David was pondering the fifth "definition" in bed.  He said, "Do people know what a MAC counter is?  Everybody probably thinks I took you to get a Big Mac."

I smiled in the dark.

And then he gasped (apparently remembering the end of that same paragraph) and groaned, "My parents read your blog."

I smiled again and assured him that they already knew he had a wicked wife.

2.

Last week in church, the man who was speaking talked about a bridge from his boyhood home to Vietnam.  Caleb leaned over and asked, "Is he speaking literally or metaphorically?" 

Can I say how happy (giddy even, and quite near delirious) it made me to hear him use "metaphorically" in a sentence?

3.

And then last week Ethan saw a picture of Barack Obama.  He asked, "Mom, what's his name?"

"Barack Obama."

"Is Baback Ohamina our bishop?"

"No, honey, Barack Obama is not our bishop.  He's running for president."

He pointed at the picture and said, "That guy looks just like our bishop."

    

(I love it.)

Delivering the Ugly Truth

Ethan comes home just about every day and sings a new song or rhyme he's learned.  Today it was "Where is Thumbkin?", yesterday it was "Two Little Blackbirds."  (Please ignore the fact that he's just hearing these nursery rhymes for the first time...I'm trying hard not to think about it.)  I always join him halfway through and he always looks at me completely incredulous and says, "Do you know this song?"  "Of course," I say, "Moms know everything."

And then today over our corndog lunch, Ethan and I had this conversation:

E:  Mom, can my friend come over and play?

Me:  Sure.  Who's your friend?

E:  I can't remember his name.  Can you?

Me:  Nope.

E:  He sits at the yellow tables.

Me:  I still don't know who he is.  Do you know anything else about him?

E:  He likes Star Wars.

Me:  Oh.

E:  Now do you know who it is?

Me:  No.

E:  (getting really excited now) Oh!  And he likes me!  That's all I can remember.  Now do you know who it is?

Me:  Um, no.

E:  Mom, do you know what this means?

Me:  What?

E:  (whispering) You don't know everything.

And then he makes this face like he didn't want to be the one to break it to me, but there it is.  And I thought, boy howdy, you're not kidding.

Is That Better?

Pain in the neck:

Well, it seemed like quite a few people were having to scroll over to see my whole blog, so I spent another day in front of my computer cursing squarespace for messing with my life, and tried a new format.  David was so personally happy about the banner change he actually called me from work (a rare occurrence under any circumstance) to express his glee.  I told him I did it just to make him happy.  No, not really.

Pain in my head:

I have had a standing headache for a good three or four weeks.  But it has gotten ridiculous since the Olympics started.  I think this means I need more sleep, but here we are at 10:55 watching men's beach volleyball, and they still have to play one more set.  I think the whole country is going to be in bed by 8 on Sunday night.

Pain as a part of childhood:

Ethan had to get his five-year shots today, and was shocked and hurt that I put him through that.  He ended up with seven bandaids by the time he got all five shots, his finger prick, and a TB test.  Cruel and unusual by anyone's standards, and just brutal for both of us.  He was heartbroken that I "would let them do that to him" (his words) and no matter how "good" it is for him, it is still hard to hold your child tight in your arms and watch the tears roll.  His smile returned after we stopped at Jamba Juice on the way home.  Thankfully, it was not so bad that an "orange dream machine" couldn't make everything better.

A First Time for Everything

There have been a few monumental "firsts" this week:

1.  Ethan's first day of school ever.  First time on the bus.  And not a bit scared or hesitant to board and be on his way...he was the first one in line.

2.  All the kids had their first day of school on Monday.  I'm trying not to think about how long it will be until they are all mine again.  A countdown of nearly 300 days would be completely demoralizing.  I'm just taking things one day at a time.

3.  Monday morning was the first day I have woken up in nearly three years and not been the Young Women's president.  I was released on Sunday.  Monday was also the first day since the bishop told me about the change that I didn't have a crying jag about it.  On Monday I told David, "I do feel lighter.  And I like it."  He just grinned from ear to ear.

4.  Now it's only the first week, so don't get too excited about this one, but I have made a hot breakfast for the kids three days in a row...a first for me.  This is my big goal for the year.  When I was pregnant with Ethan, I could hardly function at all, and so Caleb would pour cold cereal and milk for everyone.  The kids got quite self-sufficient at getting their own breakfasts and somehow I've just never been good about making it since.  But for the past couple of years I've really felt like I've been missing an opportunity to talk to my kids, and nurture them, and send them out the door feeling "mothered."  We'll see how it goes. 

5.  We made it to the first chapter of 3rd Nephi in the Book of Mormon on Tuesday morning.  Our summer scripture reading was nothing short of pathetic, and it feels so good to get our reading going again consistently.  RIM keeps pointing out the perks of returning to "real life."  After scriptures this morning she smugly whispered to CIM, "See...going back to school is a good thing." 

6.  Ethan came home this morning and put his hand on his heart and said the first line of the pledge of allegiance.   I had to put my hand on my own heart to keep it from shattering.  My life is passing like a dream.