Too late.

I'm afraid the fares have already changed. Bummer. So I'm thinking they had posted the wrong fares accidentally, or they just played a really mean trick on one of their best Oregon customers. I need a shoulder to cry on. Sorry for the craziness.

THIS IS INCREDIBLE! GIRLS REUNION!!!

Ok. Get this! Right now, Allegiant air is offering $9.99 one way tickets (a total fare after taxes and fees of $55.00) for the weekend of February 4th (Thurs.) thru the 7th (Sun.) from Vegas to Eugene. I have NEVER seen a fare this low, so I'm going crazy with excitement. I'm thinking girls' reunion! SO...any of you who have ever been interested in visiting the Oregon Coast, or any of you who have no interest in the Oregon Coast, but you want to make me super happy--this is the chance of a lifetime. By the way--food and lodging will be included :)

If none of you come, I will understand (but I'll be a little sad), but if any of you would like more details, call me or email me or something.

You have to act fast because Allegiant's fares change constantly!

I can't believe I'm doing a "Come visit me" infomercial. Wow.

Anyway....I would LOVE to have you!

Merry Christmas

Dear Family and Friends,

The only idea I could come up with for this year’s Christmas letter was to share with you some of my Christmas memories. Thankfully, almost all of my Christmas memories are wonderful: listening to Manheim Steamroller, Christmas morning rehearsals, picking out and decorating the tree, granny’s and grandma’s packages, get-togethers with the Squires family; the count-downs to 5:30 a.m. …etc. Man, those were good times.
And I’m pretty sure that before this year, I only had one bad Christmas memory: the year my brothers and sisters and I got a little carried away with the early-Christmas-morning peaking, and we actually went through our entire stockings before the legal time. It may have been fine, except that we were totally unsuccessful in re-enacting our excitement and surprise when we opened our Phantom of the Opera tickets for the second time. Mom quickly recognized what had happened and was genuinely disappointed. She sadly reminded us that her fun at Christmas came from seeing our reactions and watching us be excited. Ouch.
I know a lot better now what she meant. Seriously--who knew that being a parent at Christmastime could be so exciting? These last few years have been filled with all of the memories I’m sure many of you share. Camp, Jane, and now Danin are chomping at the bit just as much as I am to get out all of the Christmas stuff. We have special Christmas story books that we only get out during this time of year; we have a Christmas elf who drops in every December to make sure we’re being nice; we always decorate a gingerbread house; we drive around town throughout the month trying to find the best Christmas light display; we decorate; we make snowflakes; we frost and deliver cookies; we listen to Christmas music; we watch Home Alone; and of course, we rearrange the presents.
But this year? Man, this year’s memories will forever be overshadowed by the catastrophe of last night. Last night was our ward’s Christmas dinner and talent show, and Brian had signed us up to do a talent. For a good two weeks we had haggled about what in the heck we could present for a talent. Then, last Wednesday, during our home teacher visit, I mentioned the fact that I’ve never felt comfortable reciting the Relief Society theme in Relief Society. I described how reciting it just makes me feel like a robot. (Please don’t hate me.) So anyway, our home teacher suggested in jest that we dress up like robots for the ward talent show and recite the Relief Society Theme. Yeah, O.K.... Brian, though, loved the idea, and over the next day--as we became more panicked over not having a talent to present--somehow managed to convince me that people would think the idea was hysterical.
So last night, we all marched stiffly to the stage wearing spray painted boxes and gray sweats. Brian and I managed to recite the theme in our best robot voices with Camp and Jane chiming in here and there and Danin just standing there holding my leg. And when we were done--this is the bad memory part--the only one clapping was our home teacher--who was then hushed by our Relief Society President! Oh, my heavens… I-could-have-DIED! The talent show continued under a thick awkward gloom, and Brian and I and the kids ducked out early. What were we thinking?!
Anyway…today at church, the executive secretary approached us and asked us if we could meet with the bishop on Tuesday night. Yikes. I’m still hoping it’s just a coincidence, but just in case--does anyone still have room for us for Christmas?

Wish us better luck in making memories next year--

Love,

Ann














P.S. O.K. You’re right. That whole talent show thing never happened. Thank goodness, right?
The truth is, my sister challenged me to write a Christmas letter that would make my parents laugh. I didn't have a true funny story, so I was forced to make one up. And guess what?
Mission accomplished.

P.P.S The people in my ward are way cooler than that.

The battle continues

Camp just called me a funky, fat, fat, fat lion-breath animal. Hmm. Then he said that he hates me and wishes I were dead. He hasn't pounded on or kicked his locked door yet though, so I feel like I'm getting a pretty good deal. :)

Come to Camp's stunt show

Yesterday, Camp asked me if he could post signs around the neighborhood advertising his stunt show. Why the heck not? So he dictated to me what to write on the fliers, we made some copies, and off he went with a baggie of tacks to post the signs. A few minutes later, our neighbors showed up, so Camp rushed around setting up chairs and dragging out his ramps, and the amazing stunts began. Oh, it was so funny. I called Brian to tell him what a cool kid we have. It's a good thing he does things like that to soften my heart, because I'll tell ya--that kid tests my patience and self-control like nothing else.

And that reminds me...the only problem I've found with the whole Santa thing is that kids know that Santa supposedly only gives presents and stuffs stockings for kids who have been really good, but I'm telling you--If Santa were real, I'm not super confident there would be anything in Camp's stocking. That may sound cruel, but I'm serious. I've seriously contemplated whether I'd have it in me to leave Camps stocking empty just to let him experience some painful consequences. Probably not, I'm afraid.

Not Yet

You're not going to hear me complaining about how stores start putting out Christmas stuff in late September. What bugs me is when stores start start closing up Christmas-shop (so to speak) before Christmas is even here! Do you know what I mean? The other day, I drove by the place where we buy our trees every year and they were already taking down the section where all the biggest trees had been! Don't they know that lots of people don't get their trees until after the 15th of December? (Not me, of course. Mine went up on the 27th of November and the 1st of December (my b-day) But still). And although I was delighted when I got my December issue of BH&G in mid-November, I almost felt offended when I found the January issue in my mailbox so soon. And why are they already clearancing all of the Christmas decor stuff everywhere? It's not over yet, folks! Can't you show the most wonderful holiday of the year a little respect? INcredible.

Family love

I just want to say that I love my siblings and think they are hysterical. Every time they post a comment, I laugh out loud. It's worth it to me to post the first lame thing that comes into my mind, just so that I can read their comments.

Christmas Miracle

Christmas on 34th Street got put to shame by the miracle I experienced yesterday. Yesterday had what usually would have been all the makings of a really tough day: Waking up late, getting the kids into their church clothes, driving an hour to Stake Conference, Stake Conference itself (when you have little kids), driving an hour home...you know how it is. But yesterday was wonderful. We went to Stake Conference, took naps!, made cookies, cut out and colored ornaments, watched A Christmas story and went on a drive--all without a single fit or fight. (Well, actually, Jane threw a major fit when it was finally time to go to bed, but one major fit is still really good for her :)) Can you believe that ? I know. Neither can I! I seriously don't know if that has ever happened before. A true Christmas miracle.

Today? Well, let's just say that it's days like today that make days like yesterday really, really special. *Sigh*

Hey! Does anybody else encourage their kids to believe in Santa? I actually do not have any memories of ever having believed in Santa, myself. As far as I can remember, my parents never hid the fact that they were the ones putting the presents under the tree. And we were all cool with that. As long as there were presents, we didn't care who the heck was putting them there. I know. It's horrible. But anyway, as I've had kids, I've been excited to go along with the Santa theory until my kids figure it out on their own. This year, though, I've become a bit paranoid about it. Over the years, I've talked to a number of other parents who don't feel good about encouraging their kids to believe in Santa for one reason or another. Some have expressed their concern about emphasizing the materialistic side of Christmas; others have worried that if they lie to their kids about Santa, their kids will never trust anything else they've (the parents) taught once they (the kids) learn the truth. Yikes. So anyway....as Camp has begun to ask more and more questions about the technicalities of the whole Santa story, I've started to get a little worried about what will happen when the truth comes out. Will it be as bad as when my mom pulled me aside when I was eight to tell me about it which cannot be named (for fear of pervert psychos doing web searches and having my blog come up)?
You see, when I was at the tender age of just eight, my sister apparently reported to my mom that she had been hearing me sing along to Madonna's Like a Virgin. And apparently this led to my mom to deciding that the time was right for me to be let in on the big secret. If only she had been right. I likely would not have been ready for a good many more years. But anyway, she took me into her room and sat with me on her bed and revealed to me just how everything works. And in an attempt to make clear to me that IT was not a bad thing, but rather something that was sacred and special between a husband and wife, she told me that she liked it. Well, man, I tell ya. That was the straw that broke my back. I was horrified. In fact, I yelled, "You're worse than the devil," and went crying out of her room. I was seriously traumatized. But I don't fault my mom. In fact, I'm really grateful that I have a mom who made it a point to tell me about the facts of life herself, instead of having one of the kids on the playground do it. I just wish I had been a little more ready to hear it. I wonder, though--if my mom hadn't been willing to be open and honest with me, would I have always been as open and honest with her as I've always felt comfortable enough to be? I'm not sure.

O.K. This is the thing: Are Camp and Jane and Danin and the little chi chi going to totally freak out when they figure out the truth about Santa? Are they going to forever mistrust me? Are they going question whether I am being truthful about all the important stuff? I need to know how any of you reacted when you found out the truth about Santa. Someone reassure me, please!

Janey Mac Turns Four!

I just realized I never posted pictures from Jane's birthday, and I want to give her the spotlight she deserves. She is the most darling, wonderful little girl and I love her like crazy.

Danin's not getting much for Christmas

My Favorite Things--Happy Birthday To Me!

So I'm 31.

And My Favorite Things party was a blast, once again. I'm telling you, guys--you should all do one. There is just nothing better than getting together with a bunch of girls to celebrate your favorite things. I even got to dance again--in fact, we all danced. It was wonderful. SOOOOO....in no particular order--here are my 31 favorite things: this year's family room tree, christmas decorating, ornaments, oreos, my flat iron, Christmas ribbon from Costco, costco rolls, Costco (in general), sharpie markers, my black cabinet, decorative hooks, peppers, the Beat It remix that Tim put on Brian's Ipod, While You Were Sleeping, pictures, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, Airwick Harvest Spice or Apple Cinnamon Medley plug-in oil warmers (once again), Downy Simple Pleasures fabric softener (once again), sweats, turtlenecks, topiaries, yogurt covered pretzels, wooden spoons, my ceiling medallions, tree light remotes, tree watering pipe things (I'm not sure what they're called), the yellow book, writing my Christmas letter, my drill, overstock.com, 2% milk, and (for my video) the YouTube Best Wedding Entrance Ever video. If Brian and I have one of those weird things where you renew your vows, we are definitely doing a dance entrance like that at the reception.

And here is Brian's contribution to the party. This was a surprise for me. Notice the time period clothing? So funny...

I'm sure you'll all agree that 99% of commercials are almost embarrassingly unrealistic. But have you ever seen that Hallmark commercial where the kids are up in the attic going through all the Christmas ornaments, reminiscing about past Christmases and the memories tied to each of the ornaments? Well, that commercial--at least for me--is totally realistic. In fact, this evening, my kids and I could have been that commercial--except that we don't have an attic. But we took down and looked through several boxes of Christmas stuff --just as kind of a Christmas preview--and we all loved it. We even plugged in a few strands of lights to see if they worked. Nope. And despite the fact that those boxes are now back up in my closet, come November 27th, they'll ALL be coming out for good! For me, the countdown to the day I put up all the Christmas stuff is more exciting than the countdown to Christmas Day. Oh, that reminds me! I thought of a great business idea! I was thinking about the fact that as people get older, it becomes increasingly more difficult to get out and put up a Christmas tree, etc--especially if they no longer have children at home to do the work. And here in Florence, that's pretty much everyone. So I was thinking how fun it would be to start a Christmas decorating service where I could be hired to go to someone's home and get out and put up all of their Christmas stuff! Wouldn't that be fabulous? I could even include a take-down service after the holiday. I'm serious. I really think I could pay for Christmas this way. Anyway...

Rain drops on roses

Forget whiskers on kittens and and all that other stuff. Do you want to know what my favorite things are? Well, by Friday, December 4th, I will have decided, because on that night, I am having my second Favorite Things party. And man, I can't wait. Hope you'll be there.

Happy Birthday

Saturday was Brian's 31st birthday and my little sister Audrey's...hmmm...how old are you, anyway, Audge? Anyway, Saturday was their birthday and today is Kat's. So here's a little birthday message for you all. I love all three of you.

Positive

Wish me luck. I'll need it.

Title Shmitle

As many of you know, Melissa's youngest brother, Robbie, passed away last week as a result of a long-boarding accident. I still can't believe she was in the same situation I was in eight years ago. It's horrible... But I remembered how wonderful, comforting and uplifting it was at the time of Scotty's death to see the stake center fill with people coming to honor him. I remember being so grateful for each one of them. Most of them knew and loved Scotty, but some of them were there because they knew and loved us--his family--and wanted to show support. I decided I wanted to be one of those for Melissa, mainly, but also for the rest of her family--many of whom I've known for some time. It's interesting, because despite the irony, the funerals I've attended have been some of the most uplifting, inspiring meetings I've ever been to. I've always left being filled with gratitude for the opportunity I have to love and be loved, strengthened in my testimony of the love of our Heavenly Father and the mercy manifested in the atonement and resurrection of his son, Jesus Christ, and renewed in my resolve to be a better person. You know what I mean? Anyway...Robbie's funeral was no different. I feel so grateful to have been there. Melissa's always been a great friend to me, you know, so I want to do my best to stick by her forever. I'm grateful she has a large extended family to share the burden and the memories. I'm grateful she has a wonderful husband who adores her. And I'm grateful she has a testimony and faith to sustain her.

It's funny, because for being such a short trip (only two days) I was able to spend time with my aunt Mary (during a layover in Phoenix), with my Grandma and Grandpa Hatch, and with my aunt Becky and my cousin Allias--all of whom I rarely get to see. It was really wonderful. And because I was so delighted at the trip, I decided to treat myself with Christmas music on the three hour trip home from Portland...OK! I listened to it on the way up, too, but still....

The whole trip made me recognize all over again how lucky I am to have Brian--who didn't hesitate for a second to stay home with the kids so that I could go.

Anyway...

This Halloween was a good one--even without my fake eyelashes. And for possibly the first Halloween of my entire life, the highlight was not the candy. It was the fact that I got to see my kids run in their first races. I seriously felt like my heart was going to burst. I was so, so proud to be their mother, and to be a mother at all. Janey and Dan's race was just a hundred yards or so, but man, they (or Janey, rather) ran it well. She kept looking over at me the whole way with that darling little smile that squeezes apart her chubby cheeks. I recorded the whole race in two segments and accidentally erased the second part. Ahhhhhh!!!!
And Camp was as proud and delighted as can be to be cheered for. I think he ran the 5K in about 43 minutes or so. Amazing. I can't wait to do it again next year.

Later, we went trick-or-treating down on Bay Street, and then last night we stopped by the police station (where Camp's primary teacher was handing out candy) before hitting up our neighborhood.

Thanksgiving, here we come!





















































































P.S. I finished my chair. I didn't get to have Becky make it perfect with me because the additional material didn't arrive in time, but it will do for now. What do you think?














Also, here is another video from when Becky was here. Have I already said what a fun guest she is? The best. She has a blast with EVERYTHING, which makes everything a blast.

Can you smell it?!!

In case you haven't noticed, the holiday season is totally upon us. Can't you just smell it when you walk outside?! Yippee! And as if the holiday season didn't already come with hundreds of sugary, fattening vices, I've had a new one overcome me: caramel apples---oooohhhhh...While Becky was here, we did our best to imitate the apple pie caramel apples sold at Disneyland. And we did a pretty fine job, I tell you. And we didn't pay $6.95 a piece, either.
But no worries--I've still managed to maintain a balanced diet. I'm sure the birthday cake and ice cream I've consumed equals the caramel and white chocolate, and we can't forget the perfectly wholesome apple underneath all that goodness.
So I'm good.
And Brian's good too, because he ran a stinkin marathon! He did great and I loved cheering for him. When we finally saw him at mile 23, you would never have known that he wasn't just out for a casual morning jog. He didn't look like he was hurting at all. I told you he's amazing. And he said that it had been hard, but still a good enough experience that he'd like to do it again someday.
















And Camp's good too, because he had a birthday! My little homie is six years old. Crazy. He had a great day. We made little ghost suckers to take to his class members and he was sung to at school and on the bus. And he had a bunch of boys over for a party, and Becky made him an awesome rocket cake and he got a new skateboard. The only thing that could have made the day better would be for Collin to have been there. :( Collin! Come back!! And in addition to just having had a birthday, Camp is training for his first 5k. Isn't that awesome?! The local booster club is sponsoring a 5k on Halloween morning to raise money for the middle and high school athletic programs, and Camp is totally stoked about it. And you know what I think he is most excited about? Having the rest of us cheer for him. Like I've said--I don't mess around when it comes to cheering. I seriously cannot wait. That boy is going to feel my love.
















And Danin's good, too, because she had a birthday, too. Yep. My little shuga plum is two. She also got a fancy cake, but no party. I don't believe in throwing parties for kids who are not old enough to know the difference.












































Jane, though? Yeah, she knows the difference, so being the only kid that hasn't had a birthday yet is pretty tough for her. She just can't wait till her "burh-day". Poor girl. I'm gonna make sure to make it a really fun one for her this year. Other than that, she continues to LOVE school. I don't love it quite as much as she does because when she's gone, there is noone to entertain Dan. She is so good with Danin. They play all day long together.

















P.S. It was super fun to have Brooke visit. I threw together a baby shower for her and we had a good time. I remember her saying something like, "So this is really what your life is really like? (referring to the kids' constant craziness) Um..yep. Aren't you excited, Brooke?! No, I'm just kidding. You will love it.




























P.P.S.
While in Vegas, we got to go out with Justin and Rachel. So fun. Oh, and here's me in my new yard sale boots.

Who's the wild man now?!

I just finished watching Rudy. Man. I hate to say it, but watching Rudy elicits the same emotions in me as sitting through a really good testimony meeting. You know what I mean? My heart gets caught up in my throat and I'm flooded with memories and self evaluation and lessons learned throughout my life. Wanna hear a story?
When I was a freshman at Cimarron, I went out for the track team. I had always been a decent runner. And although I'd never been the fastest, I had always been able to at least hold my own up there toward the front of the pack in elementary and middle school races. I had enjoyed the competition at that level --you just put on your tennis shoes for P.E. and ran. There were no grueling practices or zone/state titles on the line. There were no coaches bearing down on you. It was all just for fun. So I was a little disillusioned by the experience I had going into track in high school. Being a freshman made things scary enough, but being new to that side of town all together made things even scarier. And I wasn't just a new freshman from the other side of town, I was a new freshman with no teeth from the other side of town. Oh yes. It was during this lovely time in my life that I had had my two lateral incisors (is that right--the ones right next to your front teeth?)pulled and braces put on just my bottom teeth and my two lone front teeth. Oh, my heavens. It was horrible. Every time I mustered the courage to talk to someone, they just stared at my teeth the entire time my mouth was open. And I didn't have even a hint of a tan, and I didn't wear boxers and a tank top to practice. I just felt lonely and totally out of place. I remember praying my way through the initial practices and tryouts--hoping things would become more enjoyable once the real competition started. Nope. I was so dang nervous at track meets that I couldn't even breath regularly.
I did pretty well, though--for a freshman, anyway...I remember this one time when I asked Mr. Walker if he would take me out of the mile and only put me in the 800. He agreed reluctantly, but told me that if I didn't run the 800 faster than I ever had, he would put me in the 2 mile. Well, I ran, I tell ya. And as I rounded the last corner of the track toward the straight-away, I could hear my mom screaming from the crowd, "You got her, Ann! You got her!" It hadn't occurred to me that I might be able to pass the senior girl just ahead of me. Those words infused power into my legs, though, and I passed her, finishing in second place overall--first place for Cimarron. I remember coach being so excited for me and asking me why I hadn't always run like that. Looking back, I wish I had. And I wish I could tell you that from that day on, I ran harder and gave it my all, but I didn't. In fact, I ended up quitting right before our zone tournament. I was too tired and too afraid. And I never ran another season. Sad, huh? Pathetic is more like it.
When I decided to run the St. George Marathon three years ago, I did it in large part to redeem myself from having been a quitter in high school. I wanted to do something--for once in my life--that was hard--and hang in there 'till the end.
Brian runs the St. George Marathon this Saturday and I am so proud of him. And like I said a few posts back--Brian is not a runner. No, he is running the marathon because he is the kind of person who has always pushed himself to do things that are hard for him. Brian's high school sports history is quite different from mine. His is a much better story. He was just like Rudy. As a little fat kid, he went out for football, wrestling, and track his freshman year--and then again his sophomore year, and then again his junior year, and finally, his senior year. And you know what? Finally, his senior year, he contributed to a winning season for each of those sports. What is so amazing to me, though, is that he hung in there and kept working and pushing himself for all of those other years when he wasn't very good. I remember that while we were dating, I would find little pieces of paper in his jacket pockets that said things like run five miles, or do fifty push-ups, or whatever, and he would pull one out regularly and do what was written. It impressed me then and it still impresses me. I want to be that kind of person.
Right now, Brian is asleep in his work cloths on the floor beside my chair. He was super tired after having worked straight through the night twice this week. But come Saturday, he is going to do great, because he is amazing. And I am going to love cheering for him.

Oh! You know what the best part of Rudy is? The part at the very end where the black guy watches Rudy sack the quarter back and then claps hard three times before turning away...I'm about to bear my testimony just thinking about it, I swear...

Miracle

I am witnessing a miracle. It is now 8:45 a.m. and all three of my kids are still asleep. Shhhhhhh....

Victory

On Saturday, I enjoyed a much needed date. No, not with Brian (we went out on Friday). With Camp. I know I've said it before, but I've got to say it again. Taking my kids out one-on-one does so much for our relationship. I really do see them through clearer, better eyes. Camp chose to go to Subway again--I guess it will be a tradition--and he requested to sit at the picnic tables outside. He is so funny. The kid talks non-stop. And he ate a whole foot-long. I finished way before him so I got to sit there and watch him just totally enjoying himself. And I did my best to not tell him to hurry. The poor kid probably hears hurry up about twenty times a day. Oh, man--the regrets of a mother. But anyway...next he wanted to go to Fred Meyer to show me the key chains he likes. After checking those out, we spent another hour, atleast, scoping out the Halloween isles and then the toy section. Isn't it funny how kids could seriously spend ten hours examining and commenting on each and every toy? And finally, after I had lovingly dragged Camp away from the toy isles and he had spent at least a good twenty five minutes in the bathroom, we went to look for some new sneakers. (Hmmm....I love that word--sneakers) See, this is the thing. Camp is over-the-top picky when it comes to his shoes. He has worn his Crocs for almost the entirety of his last three years, so trying to get him used to anything else has been a bit of a nightmare. It's always the same thing. He puts on the shoes; he writhes around in torture, screaming; he says they are itching his toes or that there are weird bumps, and we finally pull the shoes off in an effort to stop the madness. (This reminds me....When I was a teenager, I didn't care how in the heck a pair of shoes felt on my feet--minus my track shoes--as long as they were cute. And even worse, I would buy a pair of cute shoes in my normal size or smaller that were WAY TOO TIGHT on my feet before I would go up a size. Going up a size would just be a painful reminder that I was tall with big feet and that I would never be dainty and feminine. Oh, and that reminds me--my mom told me that she had a roommate in college who was in denial about her appropriate bra size. So despite desperately needing a size 40 DD, she wore an A. For her, getting a larger bra meant accepting her weight problems and it was just more than she could handle. I totally get it because of my shoe thing. )This time, though, things went considerably better. Although Camp still managed to find some kind of defect with the first five pairs he tried on, he at least voiced his protest rationally and allowed me to offer additional alternatives. And you know what? We finally found a pair he liked. Not only did he agree to wear them, but he said they felt good. It only helped that I told him that they were athletic shoes made especially for running. Already he is convinced that they do, in fact, make him run faster and jump higher. We broke them in with a few laps around the neighborhood. Anyway, I'm delighted.
And can you beleive it? My camera battery was dead for Jane's first day of preschool! But trust me. She looked stinkin' darling, marching on in there with a big ol' smile on her face. And she LOVED it--just like I knew she would. Have I ever mentioned what an angel Jane is in primary? She gave her first talk today and Brian didn't even have to dictate to her what to say the whole time. The last time Camp was asked to give a talk, however, he refused to say anything at all, so while I proceeded to give his talk for him, he decided his contribution would be stomping on my feet. Perfect. Speaking of Camp and violence and church, the visitors in back of us in sacrament meeting today looked on in horror as Camp jabbed a colored pencil into my arm--breaking the skin--and then whined during the sacrament prayer, and kicked me. I'm sure you'll agree, however, that the worst part of those moments is not what the kid is doing, but the judgment you feel from those around you. You just know that everyone is watching intently to see how you will appropriately handle the situation--or at least that's how you feel. And you know what? I didn't know what in the heck to do. I've started a new thing, though, that if my kids aren't able to be reverent in church, they have to spend a good long time in their rooms, practicing, when we get home. (And I'm not talking the number of minutes equal to his/her age. I'm talking an hour and a half or more...Well,excluding Danin. She gets off easy. ) And I wish the bad behavior had ended there, but later Camp's primary teacher mentioned to Brian that Camp needs to work on being more reverent there, too. Oh, man. I felt so disappointed. But I fully acknowledge I need help--like the divine intervention type--so my prayers will in part be directed at seeking guidance for how to better help and motivate Camp to be well-behaved at church. And I need to find a way to help him actually enjoy church, too. Any ideas would be appreciated.

Oh, and one more thing! Brooke's coming to visit! Oh, man, I can't wait. I have to hurry and find some way to make my house look cute for her. I think I'll paint my bedroom...

My boy is in kindergarten. Crazy. Yesterday I went with him for orientation and I found myself talking funny because my heart was in my throat--not because I am sad to be sending him away for three hours every day, but because I am super excited for him and just to see him gaining independence. So fun.

















Janey Mac Darling's preschool orientation is tomorrow night. She doesn't start school until next Tuesday, but let me tell you--that girl is going to love it and I am going to love watching her love it.

























Danin? Well she'll just be chillin' at home with me. Oh, speaking of Danin--I need to document that the other night, I saw her open the scriptures and say, "And it came a pass..." over and over. No joke. Isn't that hysterical? What's even more funny is that then a couple nights later she did it again but this time she added, "Jane, you're not listening!" She seriously copies everything she hears. And yesterday while I was braving the isles of the grocery store with all three kids, we passed another cart with a little girl in it and Danin said to me, "That girl picking her boogers!" Man, I love her. (See her first ponies?)






Brian continues to run. Two Saturdays ago he did his eighteen miler. We got a babysitter and I was able to run with him for a while (a while meaning the first six and a half miles or so--). Now THAT is true romance-- running with your lover, listening to music--well, trying to listen to music, anyway. I was listening to MJ's greatest hits but I didn't know how to work the dang i phone thing I had borrowed and the songs kept shuffling. Ahhhh!!!! But anyway, I remember noticing the smells in the air as we ran and thinking that they reminded me of my Airwick scented oils and being so delighted by the fact that Airwick had gotten the Ocean Breeze (or whatever) right on the money. So funny. Anyway, Brian's marathon is October 3rd so we will all be flying to Vegas AGAIN for a week. I'm seriously excited to cheer for him and make signs and stuff and let him know how proud I am. I'm a really good cheerer (not to be confused with cheerleader). I'm serious. It's probably one of my greatest talents. Definitely bigger than reupholstering. Oh, man, guys. I am in so far over my head. After I had gotten all 9,476 staples out and I was actually working with the new fabric, I realized that I am like a first grade level sewer trying to tackle a senior project. There are parts of the chair that look alright, and then others that just look down right awful. The seat cushion looks especially bad. I tried to redesign it a bit and add piping to the top and bottom seams, and I just did not to a good job. All hope is not lost however, because I have ordered some cool turned feet off of ebay, which will finish it out a little and my seamstress mother-in-law will be coming to visit next month and I'm sure she can help me save the seat cushion. I'm not going to show you any pictures of the chair's current state right now because it would ruin the impact of the final reveal, but here are pictures of the fabrics.
















Oh, and do any of you locals know of anyone who might be looking for a new formal-type couch? I'm looking to sell mine (and a coffee table too) because I'm converting my front sitting room that always stays clean (but where no one ever sits) into an actual functioning room. Right now it's just a waste of square footage and a waste of furniture.