Politics is usually David's fetish (see the post below). But here's (finally!) a ticket I can get excited about. And I am! Find me a ballot box...I'm a huge fan.
(Do you think this is enough to end Rachel's "sabbatical"?)
After, in the Dark
Last night there was lightening. And thunder. And candles, just in case. And romance, because there were candles.
And after...
there was lovely throaty whispering.
And a while after that, in the darkness I heard David sigh regretfully. "I don't think McCain's going to pick Romney."
I started giggling. Because it is just so David to mix love and politics.
He listed the reasons why not. I said those were all good reasons. He said he'd thought about it a lot.
Then he listed the reasons why McCain should. I said those were all good reasons too. He sighed.
And then he said, "Romney has a certain gravitas."
I said, "Did you just use the word 'gravitas'?"
He said he did. And then I kissed him hard (I really couldn't help myself) and there was more romance. Because it is so like me to mix love and vocabulary.
Look at these yummy pillow shams...I am delirious about them. Ticking and toile are my undoing.
*Boy Howdy* Revisted
As a follow up to yesterday's post...here are a few more things I don't know:
This morning at scripture study we were reading 3rd Nephi, chapter 11...when Jesus visits the Nephites.
Savannah asked (about resurrection), "But how does that work? I mean, I don't get it. How exactly does our body actually come back to life?"
And then Olivia, "And how old are we going to be? I hope I'm nine. I want to be nine forever. Can I be nine when I'm resurrected?"
And among these imponderables, there was also this. Do you remember this quote by Sister Hinckley?
"...the only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache."
This morning my head and cheekbones and swollen eyelids wonder why (especially given my lifetime of experience) I still haven't learned this.
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.
Word of the Week: Deprecate
deprecate /vt./ to express earnest disapproval of; to urge reasons against. to depreciate or belittle. denigrate. underrate. pooh pooh.
deprecate /vt./ 1. I've always loved this word, especially the "self deprecating" combination, the way it defers and shrugs before it even really gets going, but I'm happy to see its week end. With "deprecate" on my mind, my inside voices have been too negative and whiny to stand for much longer.
deprecate /vt./ 2. I spent much of the week deprecating Squarespace's new V5 version and the difficulties it created in my life. But by Friday, I had worked out most of the bugs, created a new banner, and figured out the best way to upload pictures. Whew. Now if I could only figure out the other issues my computer is having...is it the memory, the modem, or the 10 million megabytes being taken up by Caleb's computer games? I know just enough about blogging and computers to be dangerous.
deprecate /vt./ 3. One of things that David finds most aggravating about being married to me, is the way I deprecate big birthday celebrations. (I ascribe this to nature and nurture, by the way.) I find regular life taxing enough, and so I always quail a little bit at the monumental effort required for birthdays. Especially the parties. Despite all this, I encouraged Savannah to invite her friends over for a swim party (at my parents' house) on Friday afternoon. I picked up a pizza and grapes and ice cream bars at Costco and we had an impromptu party with three of her best friends...no invitations, no presents, very little expense, just fun. I'm expecting my Olympic medal any day now.
deprecate /vt./ 4. Yesterday I taught my first gospel doctrine class. And I'm not being the least bit self-deprecating to say that it could have gone better. For the most part, people just stared at me, like, "Okay lady, go ahead and teach me the gospel. I'm just going to sit here and watch you make a fool of yourself." And we had really good material yesterday too...tons to talk about, but apparently I don't inspire that kind of really good classroom discussion. The highlight of the lesson was when I used colored chalk to diagram the wars and epistles that went back and forth between the four main characters (Moroni, Helaman, Ammoron and Pahoran [my personal favorite]), but that was over in the first ten minutes. David ran to Walmart for me at 9 o'clock on Saturday night for colored chalk. Bless his heart. He wanted to help, but there was just no help for it.
deprecate /vt./ 5. My sister, Rachel, and I taught another body image class on Tuesday night and had another round of serious technical difficulties. You'd think by now we'd have it down, but no. This time we showed up without a cord to connect the proxima to the computer (an fairly important part it turns out) and so I had to call David to come to our rescue. Even after he brought the cord we still couldn't get it to work and so he came in and tried to help us while I started the presentation. I told Rachel later that it's either the devil or the Lord trying to stop this presentation and I'm not sure which one it is. I was immensely grateful for David's expertise and IT support, and felt I ought to take back all the deprecating remarks I've made over the years about not having a "handy husband."
deprecate /vt./ 6. One of the highlights of my week, again, was watching the Olympics. I intended to go to bed early last night (I mean really intended), but I thought the closing ceremony was just so incredible that I stayed up and watched. And then I couldn't leave without hearing Mr. Costas sign off one last time. We have quite a relationship now and I just couldn't help myself. (Did you hear the comment about laying the egg in the bird's nest? Classic. Be still my beating heart.) And no matter your feelings about the Olympics in general, you just can't deprecate the efforts of Beijing and the Chinese people in their hosting of these most spectacular games. I am quite at a loss as to what to do now.
Eight Reasons to Celebrate Savannah
Savannah turned eight just after midnight early this morning. In her honor here are eight things I love about her:
1. Savannah is a huge Jane Austen fan and even at her young age has learned to appreciate the charms of Mr. Darcy. Whenever she has a "sick day" we pull out Pride and Prejudice and escape into the Bennett house together. Once, when she was six, she leaned over to me in church and pointing at one of the priests at the sacrament table, whispered, "Mom, that boy looks just like Mr. Darcy." I nudge her every time we see him now.
2. Of all my children, Savannah likes to sleep-in the most. This is something I dearly love about her. She is also the one most (emotionally) affected by lack of sleep. This is something I completely understand about her.
3. She loves tic-tacs. Given her choice in the candy isle, she will pick these or Junior Mints every time. She is crazy about the new Cherry and Passion Fruit tic-tac combo.
4. Savannah was the first child we had that looked like me. And, bless her heart, she doesn't seem to mind when people point out that she looks "just like her mother."
5. I have had to apologize to Savannah more than any of my other children, and maybe even more than all of them combined. She has a tender heart and has taught me more about being kind than any one else in my life. I've even had to drive to school on a number of occasions and ask her for forgiveness. She always graciously grants it.
6. She is a fabulous dresser and has excellent, sometimes eclectic, taste in fashion. She combines things in a way I would never think of and always looks darling. I consider this a real gift (David buys most of my clothes) and I'm always asking her, "What do you think of this?" when we're out shopping. I trust her fashion instincts implicitly.
7. She has a constantly itchy back and loves to have her back scratched every day. She comes and sits right next to me and doesn't say a word, just kind of bends her neck and I know what she wants. She loves to be touched and turns to putty if you rub her shoulders, scratch her back, or massage her head. I have used this technique on many occasions to diffuse a tense situation.
8. She started a tumbling class this fall (after at least a year of asking) and I have never seen such a smile on her face. She loves it, counts the days til her next class, and you can see her glowing all the way across the gym. I'm so glad she wore me down.
After a very difficult pregnancy, a 24-hour labor and delivery, and a few very painful days of a complicated recovery, I insisted that we make her middle name "Grace," since I was sure that I had only survived it all through the grace of God. Savannah continues to live up her name and reminds me each day about the need for true grace as I muddle my way through motherhood. I love her dearly. Happy Birthday, baby girl.
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.
V is for Viola and V5
Yesterday I went downtown with Olivia to rent a viola. I know. (Rest assured that RIM has already given me the lecture about good money after bad and all that.) But the girl would not be deterred. We got her a viola and signed her up with a teacher for lessons, because as long as I'm throwing away money renting the instrument, I might as well throw away some more helping her actually learn how to play it.
She was over the moon...hugging and polishing it the rest of the night. And then this morning as Caleb was practicing the violin, she pulled out her viola and started "fiddling" away on random strings. And we could hear her asking Caleb and Savannah, "Does that sound good?" and then "How about this? Doesn't that sound good at all?" (I think the viola actually does have a very lovely, dark, chocolatey sound.) She can't wait to get started. Of course it's the "boring middle" and the "excruciating end" that I'm worried about.
And then this morning, a friend from our ward called and said they would sell us their daughter's viola for $35. Sold! They got it off Ebay. I was complete astonishment. I would never be brave enough to buy an instrument off Ebay...that is a world I neither understand nor trust, but there you go.
In other "V" news, squarespace recently changed their website version from V4 to V5, and while I appreciate their efforts to make my life easier, this has not actually resulted in making my life easier. I had to reformat my blog (which you may have noticed) and David told me that it no longer all appears on his computer screen at once, that he has to scroll over to see it all...is this universal? In addition, my personal computer is having memory issues and is running slower than usual and so my pages are loading slowly...again, I'm wondering if this is universal. I'd love some feedback...is my blog loading slower for you and can you see it all on one screen? And I think I've finally re-figured out how to load pictures, but David also said that they sometimes load excruciatingly slow on his computer as well...and, as an aside, he said he also misses the pink typewriter. I reminded him (in my sweetest voice) that it is my blog. He said he was just saying. Anyway, I'm wondering how V5 is for the rest of you.
Well, I've now used "excruciating" two times in a post written on normal, uneventful Wednesday morning. I think my work here is done.
Word of the Week: Bailiwick
bailiwick /n./ a person's area of skill, knowledge, authority, or work; domain, sphere or territory. area of influence. turf.
bailiwick /n./ 1. My bailiwick as a mother has once again been invaded by the school, as my children went back to school this week and are now in the the classroom for 6 hours a day. I tried to have a good attitude this year, but by Friday I was worn out and wishing for our long summer days and a good game of Bohnanza.
bailiwick /n./ 2. Our "down time" has been filled with the Olympics. Which. I. Love. I was even going to write a post last week about my not-so-secret crush on Bob Costas. (I just about died when he made his quip about the dip in the Yangtze. But I digress.) Anyway, I love the Olympics for so many reasons, but especially to see people competing and dreaming and working hard in their own particular bailiwick. I love that somebody is as passionate about badminton as somebody else is about swimming the 400 IM. I love that track cycling has its own language and equipment and technique, and so does trampolining and pole vaulting. And I also love to see all those athletes lined up on the track or in their sculls or on their bikes, all those colors and races and flags, all of them different and all of them the same. I get completely choked up.
And my kids have really caught the Olympic spirit as well...making a poster and "medals" to celebrate. I won one for making breakfast last week.
bailiwick /n./ 3. My bailiwick at church has changed in the last little bit. I was released (though my heart thought it felt a bit more like "ripped" than "released") from working with the young women in my ward and given a new assignment to teach Gospel Doctrine. I know. David is pleased as punch. My first lesson is this coming Sunday. RIM and CIM are both convinced it will be a disaster. I am inclined to agree.
bailiwick /n./ 4. With the start of school, it is also time (at least for me) to think about what activities my kids are going to be involved in this year. This becomes an overwhelming exercise in balance, as I try to balance my kids' interests, our time, the budget, the practicing commitment each activity will require, how much I really want to be in the car, and what I think each child "needs." This has only gotten harder as my kids' interests have grown and expanded. Olivia came home the other day and announced that she wants to learn to play the viola. "What about the piano?" I asked. She replied that you can't get out of class to go to orchestra with your friends if you play the piano. Oh. I keep telling David I would appreciate some input, but he clearly thinks this falls under my bailiwick. Naturally.
We have a back-to-school tradition...the Saturday after we finish (whew!) the first week of school we go out to breakfast and do a review of the week: highs and lows, what they're excited for, what they're most worried about, everyone gets a turn. It was so good to be around a table together.
I Don't Care What RIM Says
I don't care what RIM says, or how long her "pro" list is, being "back to school" is hard.
This week, in addition to rising early (which is bad enough, in my opinion), and reembracing responsibility in the forms of spelling tests and homework, the fragmenting has also started.
Monday night, David arrived home only to tell me he had to back at the hospital in 45 minutes. We wolfed down our dinner and he headed back to work while I handled all the end-of-day activities alone.
Tuesday night, I had a body image presentation and so I left dinner in the crockpot and David and I quick-kissed through our car windows in the driveway as I was headed out and he was headed in.
Wednesday night, David had a meeting and was at the hospital until almost 8, Caleb had scouts and I had to be at Young Women's one last time. I left dinner sitting on the stove for whoever had time to eat.
Last night, we had a family birthday party, but David didn't get home (after picking up Caleb from swim team) until nearly time to go, so we bolted down some BLT's and hurried over to my parents' house.
We didn't have one slow, chatty dinner around our table the entire week.
I woke this morning with two kinds of heartburn. I think I'm just really bad at being a modern woman. I feel all stretched out and panicky, too taut already at day five. My summer reservoir is disappearing at a shocking rate.
I think RIM might be the crazy one.