A Child is Born

When I was six years old, my mother had her fifth baby (I was the eldest)--a boy named Tyler. He was MY baby as far as I was concerned. I helped feed him, change him, hold him, and mothered him as only a big sister can. He was the cutest thing I'd ever seen.
Well, that little baby has grown up and today, he became a daddy. He and his wife, Erika, welcomed their first son into the world in the wee small hours of the morning. I had taken my cell phone to bed with me, hoping I'd get a text message when the little one had arrived. All day Monday I prayed for Erika, that the baby would be well, that she would be well, that we would have good news soon. So I was relieved to finally get the text message at 4:00 am that he had arrived safe and sound.
I don't mean to be stealing Tyler's thunder by posting about this. I know that he has uploaded pictures to his blog but hasn't had time to post yet. I will leave him to fill you in on all of the details, just give him a day or so more to soak in his new baby and to bring Erika and Scottie home from the hospital. I am just so filled with gratitude that baby Scottie is here and has joined our family. A new baby is such a miracle, and especially through those harrowing hours of labor you imagine all the things that could go dreadfully wrong and pray that none of them will.
Now Tyler and Erika have so many wonderful things to look forward to. I'm not talking about the sleepless nights and the two-year-old tantrums and the teenage rebellions. I'm talking about the tightening in your chest when you think of anything being less than perfect in this child's life. I'm talking about the lightness in your heart when you hear your baby laugh, or when you see his eyes light up at the sight of your face. I'm talking about the sweetness of seeing your child gently kiss a new baby brother or sister, sensing that even as toddlers, they feel the miracle of a new baby. I'm talking about watching your child accomplish something that was hard for them and seeing the pride on their faces as they look to you to celebrate with them.
Welcome to parenthood, Erika and Tyler. Enjoy the journey. It may be the hardest thing you ever attempt, but it will also be more rewarding than any job, any educational achievement, any thing you can create. It will make you hurt like nothing has hurt before and love like you've never loved before. It is a blessing from God to be a parent, and it is His plan for us. And welcome to the world, baby Scottie!

Obsessive With a Capital O

Yes, that's me. Not be confused with Obsessive Compulsive, which would be my husband and at least one of my kids. Ok, so no one has been diagnosed and we're all still functioning, but I think that you can safely say that there is some of that floating around in the genes at our house.
I think that I have always been this way. In my childhood, it mostly manifested by my obsession with books. Most of the photos taken of my during my grade school years involve a book in my hands. Kimball is like me in that way. He brings along a book to read in the car if we are going to be gone for 5 minutes.
In college, I began to jump from obsession to obsession (as I continue to do)--often there was a boy involved, sometimes one who didn't know I existed! (Those of you who knew me in college may remember Mr. Density--not a typo, a reference from Back To the Future--and other Library Lovers who kept me headed to the great and spacious building to study and hope they'd show up!) I also went on stints of food obsessions. I remember one time that Erin, Heidi, and I went to Tony Roma's in Provo for their Chicken Caesar Salad ten times in two weeks. It was ridiculous considering my college spending money budget (and I obviously had no idea how laden with fat Caesar salad is,) but it was a need that had to be filled if we wanted to sleep at night! Another time McArthur and I beat a regular path to Pizza Pipeline for their Cinnamon Twists. Yum (I think I need to plan a trip to Provo!)
Which brings me to my current obsession: Halloween costumes. My kids have been discussing Halloween costumes randomly since November 2nd of last year and I have been telling them that we don't get to really plan Halloween until school starts. Well wouldn't you know that over after-school snack on the first day of school, Kimball piped up to remind us all that Halloween is around the corner (I know, it's scary how much my kids are like me.) And now,for some reason, I am spending a ridiculous amount of time searching for the perfect Halloween costume for the baby. I'm not sure why the others' are not occupying so much of my brain as hers is. I promise it's not because she's my favorite. I don't even think it's because it can be something girl-y (trying to fool my filter with strange spellings). But for some reason, I want it to be perfect--perfectly adorable, perfectly reasonable for her to crawl and move around in, and perfectly priced. This is the one time of year when I really kick myself for not learning any of my mother's amazing sewing skills. I guess it is also the one time of year when I shop obsessively and then beg my mom to sew costumes for the kids.
Anyway, I thought I had found a costume that fit the bill. Here it is:
Now, this may not look that different from all of the other ladybug costumes out there to you, but it is by far the cutest one I've found. I was so excited to see that babystyle (where it is listed) was offering $2 shipping on costumes ordered in August, and I had every intention of buying the costume. But I am a procrastinator as well as an obsessor, so rather than buy it immediately, I chose to look at it again every day until August 31st, just to make sure it was still THE ONE. Who expects there to be any danger of a Halloween costume selling out in August, for goodness sake!?
Well, you guessed it, this one is gone. And babystyle has posted this comment:"We're sorry, but this cute costume is permanently sold out. We will not be receiving more before Halloween."
How could they?
When I discovered this I was horrified and began perusing costume websites all over the place to find another perfect costume. And nothing that is remotely in my price range is good enough. I have run across a designer of children's costumes that is amazing (but well outside of my price range.) Here are a few of my favorites (I'm including boy favorites too, since Bronwen's not getting a $60 costume no matter how cute she is):There are loads more. So cute. There are some on ebay, so I might be able to pick one up at a more reasonable price. But which one, and how much is reasonable? The scary thing is that I am thinking about this more that I am about what I'm going to make for dinner tonight (maybe Chicken Caesar Salad?) or world peace or family history or anything much more worthwhile. Oh well. Check out my poll in the sidebar--I think I'll poll my readers to find out which one is your favorite. Provided I like your answer and it's available on ebay, I can get it. Then maybe I'll be able to move on to a new obsession--how about laundry?

Summer Comes To A Screeching Halt

I was raised in the land of Southern California. Now, I know that plenty of you out there despise Southern Cal, but it has many, many fine points. Moderate temperatures year round, an ocean breeze at 5:00 pm sharp, plenty of great shopping, entertainment, and restaurants, and beautiful beaches. One thing that it offered that I failed to fully appreciate as a child was that summer doesn't end there until Labor Day. We always went back to school somewhere between September 4th and the 9th--at least a few days after the holiday that is supposed to signal summer's end.
We clearly were not considering ideal school schedules (or ideal weather patterns and climates) when we decided to move further north. Here, school starts in the middle of August, when we should still be relishing in family vacations, swimming pools, homemade ice cream, etc. In fact, I always thought that those "dog days of summer" came in August. So why in the name of everything good would they send kids back to school? It was 98 degrees today (those of you in Phoenix are jealous, I know) and all the moms were completely sweaty (not just lightly perspiring) when we picked up the kidlets after school. Yikes! And there was no way that I was sending them in anything but summer clothes--all those adorable fall styles with "back to school" written all over them won't be pulled out for ages. No sirree, my boys started school today in cargo shorts and short sleeved shirts, with a cold water bottle in their backpacks. Aren't they cute?
Henry started kindergarten today, something that has caused me great anguish all summer, wondering if he's mature enough, if he knows his letters well enough, if he'll suck his thumb in class! He did marvelously well and thankfully didn't notice my eyes welling up when we said goodbye. I love his teacher, Mrs. R and I can tell that she will be great for him. And because Heavenly Father knew that he can be a bit on the shy side when he's not around people he knows, He made sure that Henry had four other kids in his kindergarten class that he already knew from church or preschool. Here he sat with three of them while we waited for the class to open: I already adore Kimball's teacher, Mrs. C; after meeting her yesterday for a preview of the classroom with Kimball, I can already tell that she is a dream teacher for a kid with special needs. She has already thought of lots of things to help him succeed including placement of his desk, hand fidgets, a book nook for breaks from the stimuli of the class, and room to move around. I fully expect Kimball to thrive in her class. Yeah! We have been so blessed with his teachers.
At 3:15 I picked up my boys, who were so excited to tell me all about their day. We came home for brownies and cold milk and to relax. Bummer that by tomorrow, they'll probably have homework--since it'll only be August 22nd, it feels like we should be headed to the lake or bumming around the pool, still being too lax about bed time and housework. Oh well. They don't realize that they've been cheated out of two and a half weeks of summer.

At least I'll have a few hours every day when they are at school and my other two are asleep. That'll leave more time for blogging!

Alli & I headed back to school (AFTER LABOR DAY) in 1980 (1st grade and 2nd grade, respectively.)

Remembering The Cabin--Recovery Attempt #54

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+Skunk%2C%22+%22Nose+Job%2C%22+%22Where+Have+All+The+Flowers+Gone%3F%2C%22+%22Old+Stuball%2C%22+%22Grandma%27s+Featherbed%2C%22+%22Hobo%27s+Lullaby%2C%22+and+many+others%2C+%3Ca+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fsleepymum.blogspot.com%2F2007%2F07%2Ffamily-road-trip.html%22%3Eof+course%3C%2Fa%3E+including+most+%3Ca+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fwww.weirdal.com%2F%22%3EWeird+Al%3C%2Fa%3E+songs+ever+written.%3Ca+onblur%3D%22try+%7Bparent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully%28%29%3B%7D+catch%28e%29+%7B%7D%22+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp1.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsNzdR2Pm1I%2FAAAAAAAABYE%2FiTwcfgcVBSg%2Fs1600-h%2Fslides2521.jpg%22%3E%3Cimg+style%3D%22margin%3A+0px+auto+10px%3B+display%3A+block%3B+text-align%3A+center%3B+cursor%3A+pointer%3B%22+src%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp1.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsNzdR2Pm1I%2FAAAAAAAABYE%2FiTwcfgcVBSg%2Fs320%2Fslides2521.jpg%22+alt%3D%22%22+id%3D%22BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099046149957851986%22+border%3D%220%22+%2F%3E%3C%2Fa%3E%0D%0AThe+Cabin+gave+us+a+chance+to+see+the+stars%2C+a+rarity+in+our+smog+and+light+polluted+LA+skies%2C+to+come+across+wildlife+like+moose+and+deer+%28and+mice%3A%29%2C+and+to+bond+in+the+absence+of+television%2C+phones%2C+and+other+such+nuisances.+We+picked+wild+huckleberries+for+pancakes+%28I+never+liked+them%2C+but+that+didn%27t+stop+me+from+picking+them%21%29+This+picture+is+of+Alli+with+our+nephew%2C+Cooper.%3Ca+onblur%3D%22try+%7Bparent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully%28%29%3B%7D+catch%28e%29+%7B%7D%22+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp0.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN20B2Pm5I%2FAAAAAAAABYk%2FTJJseclcCKU%2Fs1600-h%2Fcabin%2Bhuckleberries.jpg%22%3E%3Cimg+style%3D%22margin%3A+0px+auto+10px%3B+display%3A+block%3B+text-align%3A+center%3B+cursor%3A+pointer%3B%22+src%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp0.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN20B2Pm5I%2FAAAAAAAABYk%2FTJJseclcCKU%2Fs320%2Fcabin%2Bhuckleberries.jpg%22+alt%3D%22%22+id%3D%22BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099049839334759314%22+border%3D%220%22+%2F%3E%3C%2Fa%3E%0D%0AI+took+some+of+my+first+steps+at+The+Cabin+in+the+summer+of+1974%2C%3Ca+onblur%3D%22try+%7Bparent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully%28%29%3B%7D+catch%28e%29+%7B%7D%22+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp3.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN2Dx2Pm3I%2FAAAAAAAABYU%2FNgvrYzTt2IE%2Fs1600-h%2Fslides2791.jpg%22%3E%3Cimg+style%3D%22margin%3A+0px+auto+10px%3B+display%3A+block%3B+text-align%3A+center%3B+cursor%3A+pointer%3B%22+src%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp3.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN2Dx2Pm3I%2FAAAAAAAABYU%2FNgvrYzTt2IE%2Fs320%2Fslides2791.jpg%22+alt%3D%22%22+id%3D%22BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099049010406071154%22+border%3D%220%22+%2F%3E%3C%2Fa%3E+and+my+first+three+children+had+the+blessing+of+crawling+around+on+the+blue+shag+carpet+and+playing+under+the+deck+and+in+the+forest+there.+%28Why+can%27t+I+find+any+digital+pictures+of+that%3F%3F%29%0D%0AJust+today+in+the+van%2C+I+overheard+Kimball+telling+a+friend+about+his+great-grandma%27s+cabin%2C%3Ca+onblur%3D%22try+%7Bparent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully%28%29%3B%7D+catch%28e%29+%7B%7D%22+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp2.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN4_h2Pm8I%2FAAAAAAAABY8%2FULJ4V0WVNH0%2Fs1600-h%2FCabin%2Bpic.jpg%22%3E%3Cimg+style%3D%22margin%3A+0pt+0pt+10px+10px%3B+float%3A+right%3B+cursor%3A+pointer%3B%22+src%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp2.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN4_h2Pm8I%2FAAAAAAAABY8%2FULJ4V0WVNH0%2Fs320%2FCabin%2Bpic.jpg%22+alt%3D%22%22+id%3D%22BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099052235926510530%22+border%3D%220%22+%2F%3E%3C%2Fa%3E+trying+to+describe+it+to+him.+%22It+was+all+wood+and+blue+furry+carpet+and+when+we+slept+upstairs+the+walls+were+slanty+because+they+were+really+the+roof.+And+you+could+see+the+downstairs+from+the+beds+up+there%21%22+Another+detail+he+mentioned%3A+%22At+my+great-grandma%27s%2C+you+drink+from+green+glass+mugs+and+sometimes+there%27s+hot+chocolate+in+them%21%22%0D%0AI+believe+that+because+of+our+time+at+The+Cabin%2C+I+was+much+closer+to+my+Grandma+than+I+would+have+been+otherwise.+It+just+provided+us+with+great+quality+time+to+spend+together+and+share+stories%2C+jokes%2C+and+games.+We+laughed+so+much+within+those+walls.+When+I+picture+Grandma%2C+it+is+at+The+Cabin+with+a+twinkle+in+her+eyes.+This+picture+isn%27t+taken+at+the+Cabin+%28it%27s+in+Monterey%29%2C+but+for+some+reason+it+is+one+of+the+only+shots+I+could+find+of+her+in+my+digital+files.+Siblings--if+you+have+any+pictures+of+Grandma+at+the+Cabin%2C+please+send+them+to+me%21%3Ca+onblur%3D%22try+%7Bparent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully%28%29%3B%7D+catch%28e%29+%7B%7D%22+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp1.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN4WR2Pm7I%2FAAAAAAAABY0%2Fhil-OvY3s9U%2Fs1600-h%2Fslides2741.jpg%22%3E%3Cimg+style%3D%22margin%3A+0px+auto+10px%3B+display%3A+block%3B+text-align%3A+center%3B+cursor%3A+pointer%3B%22+src%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fbp1.blogger.com%2F_GSlQB5SD3W4%2FRsN4WR2Pm7I%2FAAAAAAAABY0%2Fhil-OvY3s9U%2Fs320%2Fslides2741.jpg%22+alt%3D%22%22+id%3D%22BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099051527256906674%22+border%3D%220%22+%2F%3E%3C%2Fa%3E%0D%0AWe+always+had+lots+of+good+food+at+The+Cabin%2C+but+somehow+managed+to+not+spend+all+of+our+time+cooking.One+recipe+that+will+always+remind+me+of+Grandma+and+The+Cabin+is+Boiled+Raisin+Cake%2C+which+she+would+always+have+ready+and+waiting+for+us+when+we+swung+into+Idaho+Falls+to+pick+her+up+and+head+for+The+Cabin.+After+about+age+93%2C+when+she+wasn%27t+doing+much+of+her+own+baking+anymore%2C+Alli+and+I+continued+to+make+the+BR+Cake+so+that+she+wouldn%27t+fret+about+us+not+having+it--and+so+that+we+could+continue+the+tradition.+The+name+isn%27t+ 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ally+made+it+with+whole+wheat+instead+of+rice.+We+laughed+and+laughed+together+about+that+for+the+rest+of+the+week%21%0D%0A%0D%0A%3Cdiv+style%3D%22text-align%3A+center%3B%22%3E%3Cspan+style%3D%22font-style%3A+italic%3B%22%3E%3Cspan+style%3D%22font-weight%3A+bold%3B%22%3ERice+Pudding%0D%0A%3C%2Fspan%3E%3C%2Fspan%3E%3Cdiv+style%3D%22text-align%3A+left%3B%22%3E%3Cul%3E%3Cli%3E1+c.+white+rice%3C%2Fli%3E%3Cli%3E2+c.+water%3C%2Fli%3E%3Cli%3E2+quarts+milk+%28any+will+do%2C+but+whole+makes+the+creamiest+for+obvious+reasons%29%3C%2Fli%3E%3Cli%3E1%2F2+c.+butter%3C%2Fli%3E%3Cli%3E2+t.+vanilla%3C%2Fli%3E%3Cli%3E4+eggs%2C+beaten+until+frothy%3C%2Fli%3E%3Cli%3E1+c.+sugar%0D%0A%3C%2Fli%3E%3C%2Ful%3EAs+usual%2C+this+will+only+be+as+good+as+the+ingredients+you+use.+If+you+substitute+margarine+or+imitation+vanilla%2C+it+won%27t+be+nearly+as+good+as+if+you+use+the+real+thing.%0D%0ABring+rice+and+water+to+a+boil+and+allow+to+boil+for+7+minutes.+Add+milk+and+butter+and+simmer+for+1+hour.+Watch+it--if+you+aren%27t+careful+it+will+boil+over+and+make+a+mess+of+your+stove%21+After+1+hour%2C+add+the+vanilla+and+the+sugar.+Temper+the+egg+by+adding+a+little+bit+of+the+pudding+mixture+to+the+egg+and+beating+it+in+before+adding+the+egg+back+to+the+entire+pudding.%0D%0AServe+with+a+dash+of+nutmeg.+My+mouth+is+watering%21%0D%0A%0D%0AThe+family+sold+The+Cabin+last+year+after+Grandma+passed+away.+It+was+sad+to+have+such+a+treasure+leave+the+family%2C+but+we+also+knew+that+it+would+not+be+the+same+place+it+had+been+for+all+those+growing+up+years%2C+when+we+had+it+packed+with+kids%2C+guitars%2C+and+a+good+fire+in+the+fireplace.+It+was+a+long+way+for+us+Californians+to+%3Ca+href%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fsleepymum.blogspot.com%2F2007%2F07%2Ffamily-road-trip.html%22%3Etravel+every+year%3C%2Fa%3E%2C+but+it+was+well+worth+the+journey+to+spend+time+with+our+Grandma+in+a+place+that+we+all+loved%2C+a+place+free+of+distractions%2C+where+life+was+simple+and+pleasant+and+lazy+and+there+was+always+time+for+one+more+hand+of+cards%21%0D%0A%3C%2Fdiv%3E%3C%2Fdiv%3E%3C%2Fdiv%3E%3C%2Fdiv%3E

The Family Road Trip

This week, as we prepare for a family trip, I am reflecting on the Family Road Trip of my day. In one generation, this phenomenon has changed dramatically. Let's revisit the road trips of yore for a few minutes. OK, we'll be reflecting on the road trips of my family of origin, which may have looked completely different from your family road trips. But as I explained to my husband when we were newlyweds, my family is the epitome of normal, healthy, and mainstream--any deviance from our way must be condemned as false, dysfunctional, and truly bizarre!
Every summer in my childhood, we would load up the family car for a trip that would end in Idaho. Most of my friends' families would never have taken a trip that far in the car, but most of my friends had two siblings, tops. My parents never would have considered flying all eight of us to Idaho or anywhere else!
In my younger years, our vehicle was a Volkswagen Vanagon; years later, we traded that in for a Dodge Ram Van. These road trips took place in the days before seatbelt laws, dependable air conditioning, and DVD players. Often, we would leave while it was still dark in order to beat the heat of the desert and so as to avoid overheating the car as we climbed Cajon pass. We would spread out all over the back of the van (wherever there was a space not filled with luggage.) We would argue over who could stretch out on the floor and go to sleep. Generally, we traveled with a portacrib in the cargo area of the van with the luggage underneath and on the sides, so that the baby could travel in the crib! It seems so ridiculous now, but my mother was quite proud of that idea and we used it many times. We would listen to my parents' music mostly, which is why we know all the words to James Taylor, Carole King, Bob Dylan, Randy Newman, Paul Simon, and Steeley Dan. We also enjoyed the Police, show tunes (Les Miserables when I was a teenager), and our family favorite, Wierd Al Yankovic. We'd memorize scriptures together (my dad's idea), make up stories, and on our mega road trip one year (across the country and back), we even wrote a song and produced a music video. We never stopped at a fast food place for lunch--we were all about the cooler that Mom had packed that was wedged between the two front seats and doubled as a jump seat for a child who was causing trouble in the back. We'd play card games in the back seat and I generally read at least two novels while we were on the road.
Our trip would start in Southern California and go along I-15, through Baker (home of the world's largest thermometer, Las Vegas (which my dad liked to call Nineveh, and which we usually drove right past,) St. George, (where my dad had a former mission buddy. We would often crash on their floor or in sleeping bags in their backyard. Most years, they had about 2 hours notice that we were coming to town because my dad's one responsibility in getting ready for the trip was to call them.) Our next stop after St. George was Provo, Utah, home of my future alma mater (also my parents' alma mater.) Aunt Kim lived there and we would usually spend a few days at her house, going up to the BYU campus, eating at Heaps of Pizza (which everyone else called Brick Oven--since Heaps was the late 60's and early 70's name of the place), going to Temple Square in Salt Lake City, (that's me with Baby Tyler) and visiting various other Utah landmarks. After a few days, we would get back in the car and head to Idaho Falls, where my grandma, aunt & uncle, and cousins lived. We'd spend a night or two there, then pack up and go to Grandma's cabin on Palisades Reservoir. (My sister, Alli. Isn't she cute?) This is where I have the best summer vacation memories. I'll have to post about that tomorrow--it deserves it's own.
Once we left Idaho, we'd retrace our steps, although often we'd get a hotel room in Utah so that 1) we wouldn't wear out our welcome with relatives and 2) we could swim in the hotel pool. We'd arrive home so grateful to be there; we were tired, y, and with enough laundry to bury a few small children (I only know that now, Mom!)
We took other road trips, too, including to Sequoia National Forest, Washington, DC, upstate New York, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, and many other destinations. Now that I look back on it, I am in awe of my parents. They were determined for us to see the country and made sure that we did, in spite of the inconvenience of traveling with six squabbling kids. And to think that I barely survived my 400ish mile drive home from Whittier this month because the DVD player was malfunctioning!