Service and the First Casualty of Summer

Olivia finished her hat for Sister Bartel, a lady in our ward who is fighting cancer.  She was quite proud of the finished product and even though this hat may be a bit warm given our current season, we hope the thought counts for something. 

When Olivia delivered the hat, Sister Bartel was sleeping.  Her husband said she had had a very difficult night, and I was glad Olivia got to deliver a bit of joy the day after such a rough night.

The girls then made plans to make "a whole box full" of small hats for David to take to the hospital for "all those sweet little babies"  (their words).

Yesterday morning the girls met my mom over at her church building to help with a few humanitarian projects.  They designed quilts and were in the process of making soft, toy balls when Olivia, wielding a pair of sharp scissors, cut off the tip of Savannah's finger.  Savannah tearfully vowed that she is never making balls again.

A bit of trauma and the subsequent drama does not translate well into "service with a smile."  This injury in conjunction with the insult of a middle ear infection has Savannah feeling quite besieged by bad luck and worried about the next 73 days of summer ahead of her.  I can only thank heaven for Children's Tylenol.

Word of the Week: Esuriently

esuriently  /adv. /  having a naked, uncontrolled hunger for.  with the desire to possess more of something than one already has or in normal circumstances might be entitled to.  hungrily, greedily.  graspingly.  avidly.  covetously.  voraciously.  even avariciously or rapaciously.

esuriently  /adv./  1.  For those of you who have been esuriently waiting for this post...the wait is finally over.  We are in full-summer mode around here and somehow the days are gone as soon as they've begun.  My blogging time has been suffering because, not only do I now have three more computer users around here, but I have found I actually need a bit of "alone time" to generate enough coherent thoughts to write something.  And obviously that is in short supply these days.  A happy trade-off though.

This was supposed to be my SPT for yesterday (and the week before)...Something Borrowed and Something Blue...better post it here or it may never get posted.  We "borrow" my parents' gorgeous pool almost every day from May to September.

esuriently  /adv./  2.  Usually by this time of year I am already esuriently wishing for winter, but the weather around here has been absolutely phenomenal.  On the last day of school, always traditionally an absolute scorcher, it was rainy and chilly and I snapped this picture in my car at about 5 in the afternoon.  Incredible.  I've never seen such glorious weather in May.

esuriently  /adv./  3.  I have been esuriently waiting for summer break since last September, but my longing became particularly fervent after Christmas.  The school year is wearing on me in so many ways and I live for the carefree days of summer vacation.  My kids were just as happy to be done and we have been happily doing "whatever we want" for the last few days.  This has included hours and hours in my parents' pool, and we even got David to join us for the day on Monday.

esuriently  /adv./  4.  David has spent most of his career esuriently wishing he was older.  He's always telling me how he is the youngest one on the team, and somehow this translates into how much respect he receives and how much capital his projects get.  This last week he got just a part of that wish, when he turned one year older.  We went to dinner and a movie to celebrate (I, for one, am deliriously glad that he was born) and he got a much-coveted "Blackberry" for his 36th year.  The only downside of this particular gift is that he will soon be completely connected to the hospital 24/7.  I hope that this doesn't turn into a gift that I esuriently wish I hadn't given him. 

esuriently  /adv./  5.  Caleb is a brilliant student and somehow managed to take 10 classes this year, including three new classes in Mandarin, Spanish, and Suzuki.  He reads and studies esuriently, and this has really paid off for him.  He was invited to the end-of-the-year academic awards ceremony where he received the Presidential award for straight A's the entire year, and was also awarded "Student of the Year" by his Suzuki teacher.  He was beaming with pride, but (I secretly think) he was also esuriently hoping that there were even more awards to be won.  I have no doubt that he has his eye on the "Outstanding Student of the Year" for next year.  Maybe even more remarkably, I didn't have to ask him about his homework all year...he is completely self-motivated, self-sufficient, and self-assured.  It is so easy to be his mother.

esuriently  /adv./  6.  I have a couple of videos I wanted to add to this post, but no matter how esuriently I stare at the Google video upload bar, it remains on "Processing."  So it may be a bit.  And my children are wanting lunch, so I will have to add them later.  Blogging is an entirely different endeavor in the summertime.

They're Almost Mine Again

We made it.

I don't know how.

There were days in there when I surely thought we wouldn't.

(I meant to snap a picture with Caleb too, but was madly trying to finish up Teacher Thank-you gifts and ran out of time.)

But here we are.  Mine again for 80 days.  And I intend to take advantage of every, single one of them.

Revolt of the Working Class

My cleaning lady needs to be fired.

The laundry is stacked literally to the ceiling...can't tell what has been washed and what still needs to be, so she'll probably need to start completely over.

The dishes haven't been done in two days.

There is just no polite way to describe the state of the bathrooms or the floors.

A week's worth of "end-of-the-year" backpack dumps are piled on the counter.

To say nothing of the bedrooms, the rabbit cage, and the garage which are all currently emanating various noxious smells.

She is definitely slipping.

I am so going to fire her. 

Just as soon as I can find her.

I didn't want to offend my gentle readers' sensibilities...so I took a picture of the cleanest room in the house.

RIM:  This place is disgusting.

CIM:  It apparently doesn't bother anyone but you.

RIM:  The girls were definitely upset that they couldn't find any clean clothes this morning.

CIM:  They just need to look harder.  I know they had clean turtlenecks in the bottom of their drawers.

RIM:  Let's just clean it up.  You'll feel better if you do.

CIM:  No, you'll feel better if I do.

RIM:  Would that be so wrong?

CIM:  Am I crazy or didn't we just do this?

RIM:  It's been longer than you think.

CIM:  (getting worked up) Oh, so now I'm "crazy"?

RIM:  Do you really want me to answer that?

Word of the Week: Gainsay

gainsay  /vt. /  to deny, dispute, or contradict.  to speak or act against, oppose.  to refuse to admit the truth, reality, value, or worth of.  controvert.  disaffirm.  negate.  oppugn. 

gainsay  /vt./  1.    Summer has arrived in our part of the world.  Just like that.  Our winter has been long and glorious.  In fact we still haven't hit 100 and we're in the latter part of May.  Unbelievable.  But then today it's supposed to shoot up to 110.  I made Caleb go change into shorts when I saw him this morning.  No one can gainsay the fact that summer is really here with these kind of temperatures.

gainsay  /vt./  2.  For years and years, David has gainsayed my contention that he works a lot of hours.  But this last week was particularly bad, and promises to be so again this week.  The hospital is rolling out a new "paperless clinical documentation" (he made me say that) and this has meant even working overnight.  In addition to this it was also "Hospital Week" (Woohoo! I hope you all celebrated) and this meant visiting all the shifts to serve dinner and treats.  He even dressed up Hawaiian-style (wish I had the pictures) to spread house-wide hospital cheer.  Not even he can gainsay the fact that he spent very few hours simultaneously at home and awake last week.

gainsay  /vt./  3.  My Aunt Margaret sent my girls a surprise package this week: new outfits for their American Girl dolls that she had designed and made herself.  Their shrieks of glee were followed by awe at Margaret's sewing skill.  They would heartily gainsay anyone as being as talented and clever as their great-aunt, who was quickly promoted to grandma status ("one of our Grandma's") and their dolls have worn nothing but the darling clothes she sent since the package arrived.

 

gainsay  /vt./  4.  Savannah's eye tooth started getting loose this week.  She has been begging me to take it out since Thursday.  I told her it wasn't ready yet, but she would not be gainsayed.  Yesterday she worked at loosening it and at bedtime implored me again to try and take it out.  It came out and she was thrilled.  She giddily exclaimed that she has now lost 10 teeth, the most in her 1st grade class.  Aha!  The ulterior motive revealed.  School ends in four days and she has been "tied" with another boy in class for "most teeth lost."  She just pulled into the lead.

gainsay  /vt./  5.  Olivia has been coughing for weeks now, but towards the end of this last week she was getting particularly bad.  I had gainsayed the need to go to the doctor because it was "just a cough" (surely viral) and assured her that eventually "it will clear up on its own."  As I was doing her hair on Friday morning she kept getting paler and paler until she looked positively faint and told me she was going to be sick.  She slept for an hour or so and then begged to go to school.  The same thing happened this morning, so after a weekend of serious coughing and another "vagal episode" this morning, we went to the pediatrician.  He jokingly told me that maybe I should stop doing her hair, and then told me that she had two really bad ear infections and pneumonia.  What?  Oh, good heavens.  That mother-of-the-year award is mine for sure. 

gainsay  /vt./  6.  This week we had our Laurel Transition Dinner for my five young women who are graduating and moving on to Relief Society.  There is no gainsaying how very much I love these girls, what a powerful force for good they are, and what a blessing it has been to serve them.   In the past I have been really bad at documenting my quilts...first of all they are really hard to take a picture of without a proper studio and usually I'm in such a rush to finish that I don't have time to snap a picture.  But I did manage to take a couple this year, so for the my record:   

 

gainsay  /vt./  7.  For me, the pleasures of motherhood are really very simple.  Ethan and I took advantage of a rare empty "to-do" list on Thursday and met my sister and her kids at my parents' pool for lunch and a swim.  After Ethan's swim, I wrapped him in a towel and pulled him onto my lap.  I cannot gainsay the absolute joy of holding his trembling, shivery body, towelled and damp against mine.  Our days alone are numbered.  My days of being able to hold him like this at all are dwindling rapidly.  And this thought makes my heart beat hard and fast, because it's swamped and drowning and gulping for air.

My Life Passing As a Dream

Last night Caleb had his end-of-the-year violin concert. 

I picked him up from scouts and he changed into his concert clothes in the car.  When we arrived at the school I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that he was dressed and ready and had tied his own tie.  When did he learn to do that?

I told him I had gel for his hair, so we got out of the car and I gelled and combed his hair, much to his embarrassment and consternation.  He kept jerking around nervously, not wanting to be seen by anyone he knew.  When did he get too old for me to comb his hair?  I didn't even lick my hand.

When we walk together now, he's always three steps ahead of me.  To and from the concert I was chasing him.  I had to keep saying "What?" because I can't hear from back there and then I would have to run a bit to catch up.  When did he start go places on purpose?

At Suzuki concerts they play from the most difficult piece down to the easiest and you join in at your skill level.  I was so glad to see his lessons paying off, as he played all but the first piece.  I love the earnest way he plays the violin.  Here's a bit of Perpetual Motion:

My dictionary says:

perpetual motion:  the motion of a hypothetical device which, once set in motion, would operate indefinitely by creating its own energy in excess of that dissipated.

Oh, stab my mother-heart.  This is the joy and pain of my mothering.  My insides are nothing but hot and tender as I watch this child set in motion, with no way to undo his eventual going.

In Lieu of Vacuuming

I started to write a post instead of vacuuming through my house, my usual Friday routine.  Prep the house for the weekend, you know.  While I'm at it I might even throw in a couple batches of laundry.  The swim suits are starting to mildew.  But this happened inside my head on the way to the post.  For your enjoyment:

RIM:   You misspelled "lieu."  And "vacuuming."

CIM:  Yeah?  Well you misspelled "misspelled."

RIM:  What?

CIM:  Made you look.

Numbers of the Day

I hardly know where to begin this morning.  Last night we had our Laurel Transition dinner for my young women who are graduating next week and this marked the end of a very long firefighting season for me.  The relief of having a very busy and stressful couple of months finally over is making me half giddy, half emotional.  The only thing on the horizon now is Girls' Camp (in less than 3 weeks) and then a couple of blissfully empty summer months.  Here is my current life, by the numbers:

6 school days left.  The light at the end of the tunnel is blinding me.

640,991 words Olivia read this year in the A.R. program.  All thanks to Laura Ingalls Wilder.

3 chin rests Caleb has lost or broken this year.  I'm not buying another one for his concert tonight.

9 weeks of craziness finally over.  My relief is second only to my husband's. 

1400 gallons of the perfect adrenalin/cortisol combo pumped through my body.  I hope the damage isn't permanent.

10 yoga classes my husband gave me for Mother's Day.  Zen is coming.

4 children who are about to get my undivided attention.  It's about time.

2.7 miles I ran this morning.  shocking, really.

1.29.08  was the expiration date on the yogurt I threw out yesterday morning.  Bridget said, "When was the last time you cleaned out your fridge?"  Apparently it was a while ago.

0 things on my t0-do list.  I'm trying not to make any sudden movements. 

SPT: Something New

This is the "official" self-portrait.

This is the one I like even better.  I had quite a time capturing all this quilty goodness in the camera frame (all by myself!).

5 *new* quilts for my *oldest* young women...ready to graduate and move on to Relief Society.  Something to feather their *new* nests.

I'm feeling a bit *old* today, as all of these girls were Mia Maids (15) when I became their young women's president.  No wonder they're ready for something *new.*

These gorgeous things bring my total to 14 quilts I've made over the years for my sweet young women.  I can't think of a better metaphor for the love and comfort they will find in Relief Society.

Note{s} to Self

I got a very nice card in the mail from Marie a couple of weeks ago.  She mentioned how she had just found and read my 52 Blessings posts.  One of the nicest notes I've received all year.  I love good Canadian mail.

I got this note from Caleb on Mother's Day.

I loved the "marvelous" and the "magnificent," but was a bit concerned about the "occupied."  It reminded me of my word of the year and my goal to "embrace the entropy so that I can embrace my children more."  Apparently I need to refocus.

 “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.”  Anna Quindlen (Loud and Clear [2004], 10–11).

Note to self:  I am tired of making this mistake.

An aside for Kelly:

It just started raining.

When I pointed this out to Ethan, he said, "That's impossible!"