Just another day in Paradise.

Just another day in Paradise.

Friday, February 27, 2009

"Top Shep". Or, Why my children play with knives.

We like to cook. And I just happen to have two very talented sous chefs who love to pull up a chair and lend a hand. They can trim, chop and peel (garlic is Avery's specialty), stir and measure.

























She also washes dishes and sets a mean table:

I'm gonna have to make that plaid dress into an apron one day because she seems to like to wear it when she's helping (these pictures were taken in different months in 2008 - back when we were all still tan)

Miles, on the other hand, is still in training. This is what happens when he tries to make breakfast (two separate occasions):























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Explanation for the knives in apple picture below. I was around the corner, about 12 ft away, watching "Top Shep" as Miles calls it (Top Chef) . Usually we watch it as a family affair (What? Bravo bleeps out all the bad words) but this time he was taking the opportunity to hone his knife skills in the kitchen. There would be no plastic knife for him this time! I kept hearing him say - "It's a king!", so I think he thought he was making a crown for the apple. Poor defenseless apple half. Part of me was horrified (a very very small part) , part of me giggled and part of me was amazed that he could get all those knives in there, climb down off the counter and bring it to me. I figured that the photo would horrify some and make others laugh, or like me, maybe a little of both.


Thursday, February 26, 2009

Monday, February 23, 2009

What I learned in gymnastics this week.

Two things a thirty year old should never do-

a) wear a leotard
b) jump on a trampoline or spring floor, especially if you have given birth

Thursday, February 19, 2009

You've got a little something on your lip.

Oh, that's a mustache? You're gonna have it for how long?

Gross I know. This work of art has been in the process of growing for like threee weeks now. At first I just averted my eyes when speaking with him. Now unfortunately it's become normal. I said normal - not pretty. The only time it's not normal is when we are at places of business and supposed to be taken seriously and I look at him talking and I wonder what other people think. They don't know it's a joke. Ben had a guy come give us a bid on stone work for the house and the guy had been in the Army at one time, after speaking for a while it came up that Ben was also in the Army and the guy asked - "E6, E7?" When Ben mentioned he was an officer the guy said oh - "you don't look like an officer". But that could be because Ben just doesn't look like an officer, or it could be that sick thing on his lip. Ben thought that it would earn him more respect with the construction workers...

I think he would look especially villainous if he grew out a handlebar type but Army regs prevent such nonsense.

So we will be graced with the presence of the 'stache for two and a half more weeks per contest rules. I don't know how you win or if there is a prize. All is I know is that we all win when it is gone.

Ballet Class

The only way you are going to get this girl to wear tights (or pull her hair back) is to enroll her in a ballet class where it is mandatory. Both kids did gymnastics last session and it was fun but until you're six here it's little more than obstacle courses and donkey kicks so I'm hoping for a little more out of the ballet. And because I am taking gymnastics and can only make so many trips to the gym per week as well as my no-classes-for-the kids-that-I-have-to-participate-in policy* Miles is going to have to wait a few more months before he can get in on the action.

Avery insisted that she get white ballet slippers (what, she didn't want to wear my vintage duct taped pink pair?). And after searching around we found them online from Target. They arrived just in time. (oh looks like the poor girl is going to be pigeon toed just like her mother. It's okay Abes it makes you run faster - at least that's what I've heard)

First class was great. It started off formally at the barre and if I do say so myself she does an excellent ronde de jambe. When they started doing floor work in pairs she darted up to another girl who had the same hot pink leotard that she did and held her hand. Instant BFF's - punctuated by Jack Johnson singing "I can tell that we are gonna be friends" at that very moment. Cute.



*Actually my policy is that I refuse to pay money to do a mommy and me class- his gymnastics was more of an open gym mom follow you around thing and it was free so it was okay, unexciting after 10 minutes but okay. Swimming lessons for him would be free too but I'm not getting in the water twice a week to have him blow bubbles. We can do that on our own time.

Gymnastics Apology

Another reason why we aren't doing gymnastics this session...



We weren't kicked out but we did have an incident one day where she was squirrling around with a boy she recognized from church. The teacher didn't appreciate it and she especially didn't appreciate it when she asked them to stop and Miss Avery G. told her "don't look at me that way" - in a cartoon voice (I had her recount the story to me in the car after she got a swat and a talking to)- but rude nevertheless. I could come up with a million excuses for my kid and in that moment you want to because it is sooo embarrassing, but it had to become a teaching opportunity both for me and her. I'm glad it happened now instead of at school where she could get off on the wrong foot and have to live with it all year. It was good for me so that I can be prepared to listen and support her teacher instead of going on the defense - which is what I wanted to do. So after her corporal punishment in a private bathroom stall (don't call the authorities - it was two quick spanks) she wrote the above apology and was a lot better in the remaining classes.

Monday, February 16, 2009


Look out. Momma's starting gymnastics class tonight.


I should have started stretching yesterday.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Very Superstitious

Okay, not very, but I do have a couple weird superstitions I have picked up over time and travels. In general I try not to do any of the classic bad luck moves - walking under ladders, opening umbrellas inside, breaking mirrors etc. but I will if I have to and I won't worry about recourse. But a couple others I do follow more closely I'm not sure why. For instance - I will never ever write anyones name in red ink. That is of course unless I want them to die. I picked this one up in China and I will search far and wide for a pen of another color if I need to write a name. There are a lot of other Chinese superstitions that I did not pick up. Many circle around numerology and calendars, others around placement of chopsticks, eating of noodles and gift giving.

The other superstition I have dabbled with is the cutting of hair during the full moon phase. Not my own but my kids. Although I should probably try it as my own could use a boost. I overheard some girls at school once talking about this - they lived on an Indian reservation near by and had quite the flowing locks. I'm sure they have many other superstitions as well. I wasn't exactly invited to participate in any of these superstitions from other cultures but some just stick.

One that I will certainly follow should the opportunity present itself again is the bringing of a lei or gift to sacred Hawaiian locations should I choose to hike there. I learned that one the hard way.

So being Friday the 13th and all - what superstitions from your own culture or others do you hold dear?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Monday, February 9, 2009

Amy + Adam

Amy - If you're not going to post them, I am...


Crazy kids.


On the beach in Utila. Cute as can be.


Love the cake AND the flowers!



After they swam with them, they ate them.


Congratulations Amy and Adam. May you enjoy many beautiful sunsets together!
Photos by unknown.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Homemaking 101


The lesson I was to give this week in Young Women's was entitled Homemaking. I don't know why seeing that title made me bristle when that is in fact what I have chosen to do myself. Must be the same feminist in me that bristles when I have to put homemaker down as my title when I file taxes, or the one who wishes that people could see me (and the other hundreds of highly educated women that I know) for the college-educated person that I am and for the "business analyst" that I was, instead of just a mother of two. But again, I have chosen a different path for now. One I know I am lucky to be able to choose.

But how do you teach this topic - especially when the book that you are to teach from is outdated? Well, first you put your feminist pride aside and realize that the book isn't so bad and that the values in it are worth being taught. I never once read anything about not getting an education and instead getting married and having kids right away, about having to stay at home, about being submissive, about having a hot meal on the table and a smile on your face when hubby comes home. What the book taught was about the difference between homemaking and housekeeping, about appreciating what your mother does for you, whether she has a full-time job or "simply" stays at home (4 out of the 5 girls I taught, have mothers who work outside the home) and about finding your talents and magnifying them.

It was the perfect springboard for the things I had to say on the topic - develop skills, get an education (college or trade school), have a hobby, and find a husband that will support your interests and admire your talents. We talked about hopes and dreams and their what their home will be like when they are in charge of a household. Some like to cook, some like to garden, others enjoyed organizing. I don't remember thinking about those things much at their age, but then again I don't think anyone asked. And then again I got married before I had a chance to really think about those things. Marriage wasn't exactly on my radar when it came knocking. Luckily it suits me.

So during our conversation I decided to have a little fun and had the girls shaking something and passing it around. It was in a container and wrapped in a bag so they couldn't see what it was. It was heavy cream and salt. By the end of the class they had made butter. How domestic of them! I made bread that morning - how domestic of me! And together we enjoyed the fruits of homemaking.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Sometimes a girl just needs a little time alone. And a doughnut.

For some reason this week just got to me. I can't identify anything in particular that was causing the stress but it was definately there. I'm sure recent inspections gone wrong on the house and getting to the point where we will no longer be staying under budget but wanting to go over everytime I go into a flooring store (champagne taste on a beer budget problem)(what do you mean I can't have limestone countertops...) - You know real important issues like that. Usually I enjoy such "challenges". But trying to be an attentive mother, a deal-finder and trying not to become "some kind of girl who doesn't wash clothes" when all I want to do is plop down on the couch once in a while and watch something mindless on tv (something mindless of my choosing - not basketball)- is all the sudden too much. I think I've asked Ben at least three or four times this week to listen to my heart because I am just sure that it is beating irregularly. He always tries to do a lame finger on the wrist pulse check but I insist that he listen to my actual heart because that's where the problem lies...he says it's the same but what does he know.

So the best solution I could come up with to counter the stress was a litttle time alone. Generally my time alone comes in the form of locking myself in the bathroom to primp, pluck or read The Week in the bathtub. But that doesn't save me from the constant banging on the doors - and pretty much hearing anything else going on in the apartment. Our lack of personal space is probably part of my problem. So what better and more peaceful place to go than to the temple...a temple with a Whole Foods nearby. So I made the hour long trek in silence - thinking about - nothing really.

I enjoyed my peacful time alone but I must admit what I was really looking forward to was a doughnut. I'm not usually a doughnut girl - but if I am going to have one it's going to be an old fashioned or a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. And my mom introduced me to the Whole Foods doughnut on our recent road trip. Healthier than your average doughnut? I doubt it - but definately craveworthy. I let myself remember that I had three others waiting for me at home and grabbed a couple extras - which would either ensure that I would be able to venture out on my own again sometime with hopes I would return with treats in hand - or it would give me extra doughnuts to eat on the way home should I regret having only eaten one at the store.

When I get home I have Ben check my heart beat one more time to be sure I'm not dying but otherwise I feel a little better. And I'm going to make sure I pencil in a little alone time for next month - right there along with a date night with Ben - whenever he gets rid of that awful mustache, some "grown-up girl bonding time" with Avery (that's what she calls it) and some potty time with Miles.