Things I Learned While Skiing for the First Time in 10 Years

1. Hardly anyone skis anymore--snowboarders have taken over the mountain. The skiers that do still exist are nearly all over the age of 35. Like me.

2. Ski boots that fit me 10 years ago don't fit after six pregnancies. It isn't just my waistline that has changed!

3. The good news is that the 15 year-old stretchy ski pants that once made me look like a ski-bunny hottie still fit. The bad news is that they are no longer in style and I was the only one on the mountain wearing them. Oh, and I am no longer a hottie of any kind. What a bummer.

4. Skis don't look like they used to. The skis I own are long and pointy. New skis are shorter with bubble-like ends. Luckily, since the ski boots didn't fit I went ahead and rented everything including skis, so I did not date myself with my personal skis...just with my pants.

5. The proportion of time I wish to spend warming myself by the lodge fire during a ski day has increased along with my age.

6. I have quadricep muscles that, apparently, I haven't used in quite some time. They have officially registered a protest.

7. Ski school for kids is a really, really good idea. Check them in, completely inexperienced at 10am and pick them up at 3pm, all ready to ride the lift with you!

8. If the zipper on your child's parka decides to break on a ski day, it is far better for it to do so before you are up on top of the mountain, when you are still in the vicinity of a large chain store with bargain prices.

9. It is more fun to ski when it is not actually snowing, although it does make the ride nice and powdery.

10. Skiing is like riding a bicycle--after a run or two, it feels like no time whatsoever has passed.

11. I'm really glad we live only 45 minutes from the Mountain High ski area.

12. Our family, finances and babysitting permitting, will be returning to the slopes again soon!

Happy Birthday, Lindsey!

How can you be 8 years old already? Yet, here you are, on the occasion of your 8th birthday, so beautiful and grown up. How proud I am of the person you are becoming and, indeed, already are.

Lindsey had a mystery theatre party that was a lot of fun. Each of the 16 participants had a part to play, and together they solved a haunted house crime and figured out which one of them was the culprit. The mostly second grade girls did a great job of reading their lines and acting out their parts, making for a totally unique and memorable party. Lindsey is shown above in front of the "Eerie Cove Police Department" sign, dressed for her part as Lola Lavish, the richest woman in the world...or IS she?! Hmmm.

Happy 8th birthday, Lindsey. You are loved, totally and completely.

It's a Chicken-Egg Thing

I'm not sure, really, which came first--the incredibly painful knot in my neck or the realization that my refrigerator, after limping along for some time, finally died a total and complete death.

I first realized that the refrigerator was on its way down last night just before bed, because the ice I grabbed for my last glass of water was wet and soft. Having been through sporadic thaws and even heat-ups with this only-two-year-old refrigerator several times before, I snapped into action and frantically shuttled my perishables to the garage fridge. Don't EVER buy a GE fridge, folks, because our last one did this too, at only 18 months old! (The one in the garage, for the record, is a reliable 12 year old Kenmore). It is a good thing I did this because by this morning, the otter pops I left in the freezer were liquid and warm and the control panel was flashing in a mocking manner.

So, you see, it is possible that the neck knot developed overnight due to the tension I felt simply knowing what was coming.

On the other hand, it is possible that the refrigerator, evil incarnate as far as I'm concerned, knew deep in its wiring that today I would have this terrible neck knot and so, therefore, it was the best day possible to cease working.

I suppose we will never know the truth. But what I do know is this: I spent today alternately popping largely ineffective ibuprofen tablets and going from store to store trying to find the largest refrigerator I could find to fit in my kitchen...at the best possible deal, of course.

Did I mention Jay was out of town? He often is when I have refrigerator crises. Lucky man.

At any rate, our new 26 cubic foot Samsung fridge will be delivered tomorrow and, no matter how much your neck hurts or how tired you are, that is something to get excited about. I love new appliances!

So, although I wouldn't have chosen to make a purchase like this right now, I am determined to enjoy the fruits of it. I plan to kick the old GE fridge hard enough to leave a dent on its way out, and just the thought of this small act of revenge is sure to give me pleasure for weeks to come.

That is, of course, if the stiff neck allows for this level of activity. But, you know? Somehow I think it will better tomorrow.

A Win-Win-Win

If you happen to have a fourth grade homeschooling boy who is often, shall we say, reluctant to complete his work in a cheerful manner, then boy do I have a plan for you!

Step 1: Find an adorable 8th grade girl who lives on your street (make sure your boy has at least a small crush on her) who wants to be homeschooled too, but can't because her parents both work.

Step 2: Allow her to convince you that supervising her homeschooling during the day would be a good idea.

Step 3: Make the arrangement with her parents to have her over each day from 9-2. Check to be sure she is doing her work, answer any questions she has, offer a tip or two when prudent, but let her parents chart her progress, grade her work and give her the day's assignments.

Step 4: Receive abundant free babysitting as compensation for your time, and be extra pleased that she delights in playing with the little kids in between her lessons (quick, mom, rotate the laundry while she's playing with the baby!)

Step 5: Stand back and watch your fourth grader fall all over himself to try to impress her by doing the very best work you've ever seen from him. Watch him complete his work early in the day so he can be sure to spend his PE time riding bikes with her after their lessons are complete.

It's great for me. It's a great for her. It's great for Joey. A win-win-win if I ever saw one!

A Blissful, Blustery Day

My idea of a great day:

A rare and welcome rainstorm in the desert.
Good friends visiting for the weekend.
The fire burning and candles lit all day long.
A soak in the hot tub while the rain falls gently on our heads.
Walking the dog in the desert, the usual dust subdued by the moisture.
Homemade bread and potpie aromas filling my home.
My husband working on this and that around the house.
My children milling around me.
A good chick flick before bed.

Color me happy.

10 Months Old Already

This photo portrays a happy moment from a girl who, although normally quite content, hasn't had much to smile about lately. Isabella has an ear infection that 3 back-to-back rounds of antibiotics can't get rid of and, frankly, she's had enough.

She was stoic enough in the beginning. In fact, I was not even aware that she had an ear infection when she was first diagnosed with it in late November during a well baby visit. In the last few days, however, she has been fussy, off-and-on feverish, and hard pressed to sleep for more than an hour at a time during the night. She tugs at her ear and screams if anyone touches it. Poor girl.

We saw the doctor again today and he has prescribed a 4th round of antibiotics to try to kill this thing. If these do not work she will have to see a specialist who will more than likely put her through some terribly unpleasant things in an effort to cure her.

So, please send up some prayers for my sweet girl...and her sleep deprived mother!

Hits and Misses

Like all the rest of us, Santa wins some and he loses some.

Take, for example, the simple game of Uno that he left in Sam's stocking. This is a winner, pure and simple. We all enjoyed playing it together tonight and are left looking forward to the next go-round.

In sharp contrast, we have the Baby Alive that he brought for Julia. I don't know what he was thinking. This baby is constantly hungry, eats disgusting glop and then actually poops it out into her diaper. She went through her entire supply in the first 6 hours Julia had her. Does Santa not know that we have two real babies here that do this? This is not an area in which we needed a simulation.

Again in the "hit" category is the giant bed he brought for Trooper. Trooper loves it and no longer leaves fur balls on my family room rug. The dog is happy, I am happy. The kids are happy because Santa remembered the dog. This is all good.

On the other hand, we have the take along castle he brought for Sam. The box boasted that it had a gazillion pieces, as if that was a plus. These pieces are now spread throughout my house with no hope of ever being reunited with one another in their entirety. Sigh.

Ah, well, we can't blame Santa. He's only human. (Or IS he? Hmmm...)

A Belated Merry Christmas!

Between preparations and recovery, I did not get this posted when I intended to, but the sentiment remains the same: Merry Christmas to all of my friends in the blogosphere!

I hope your Christmas was as lovely as ours has been and continues to be.

Quote of the Day

Julia, in a fit of four year-old defiance:

"I am going to do what I want and nothing is going to stop me!"

(Pause.)

"Except a spanking."

True Humility

As a mother of six young children, I am never lacking opportunities to practice the virtue of humility; my children humble me constantly. Yet, there is nothing quite as humiliating for me as a trip to the carwash.

I always go to the same carwash because it is cheap, fast and fairly friendly. I can't tell if the quality is great because, given what I start with, there is only so much they can do. Nevertheless, it works for me, so there I go.

I am quite certain that they know me and my van by now. I am sure they must pray, every time they see me drive by, "Please, God, don't let THAT turn into our driveway today!" When I do turn in, I am guessing that the workers are busy calling in favors, changing their workstations around and working whatever deal they can, just so long as they don't end up being the poor sap stuck on vacuum duty for my vehicle. Perhaps they use me as a hazing ritual for new employees.

And, really, I can't blame them if they do. By the time I carve out the time to go to the carwash, I can assure you that my van is disgusting. The amount of crumbs on the floor could feed a small country. The trash could cave in a landfill. And did I mention that the cats pee in my car whenever a child leaves the door open? I might actually quit the carwash job rather than vacuum my own car. It is that bad.

Do you want to know the scariest part? Before I even get to the carwash, you can be sure I have invested nearly an hour cleaning the jackets, shoes, socks, wrappers, crafts, school notices, books, toys and cups out of the three rows. Worst of all, I do this fairly regularly.

So far, I've only mentioned the inside. Want to know what the rest of the car looks like? Outside, the kids have written their names and "Wash Me" in the dust on three sides, top and bottom. The car-length scratches from somebody's toy car stand out, even beneath all the dust, like a garland of silver tinsel on a Christmas tree. To top it all off I am missing a hubcap, as if I needed any more help looking like I should be playing a banjo on my front porch.

YUCK!

Some days I wonder, what is wrong with me that I let this get so bad? Why don't I discipline the children more about what they leave in the car and what they bring in the house? Why do I let them eat in the car, play cards in the car, take their shoes off in the car?! But I know the answer...I do what I can, where I can, and I fight the most important battles. If I tried to fight them all, there would be no peace in my family. For me, the car is one of the areas I am not willing to fight, because by the time we get home from wherever we have been, I am generally exhausted and the kids can't wait to get out of the car. This is not a good combination for the state of our car, but often it's great for my sanity to see them dash away into the house, especially after a long time in the car together. So what's a mom to do? Be humbled by the car washers for now, I guess.

I must thank my dear friend who sent me this link a few days ago, to let me know that my situation is not all that unusual. I laughed so hard I actually cried. It made today's car wash visit, well, a little less humiliating.

The Story of Christmas

She gave birth to her firstborn son...


...and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no place for them in the inn.

Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.

Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth.

But a sword will pierce your own soul too.

Surely from now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.

What a beautiful narration of the Christmas miracle, as presented by the 72 three and four year olds at Mission Bell Preschool. Are you thinking I cried as I watched? You bet I did.

Nine Months Old Already

And then some! I have been so distracted by Thanksgiving and Christmas that I almost left off a month in Isabella's first year posts. Since this is the only baby book she currently has, I must not fail!

At any rate, my nine month old baby finally has a tooth, has discovered the fun of tossing out the plastic cups from their oh-so-reachable drawer and loves to "help" me unload the dishwasher. She is everywhere, constantly in motion. But best of all, she has a brilliant smile that lights up her entire face and, consequently, mine.

Although I do not have evidence of this smile in the above photo, I was so pleased with her cute little outfit that I had to post it anyway. Plus, she hardly ever sticks her tongue out anymore, so this may be the last evidence of that baby habit that had us so concerned.

Happy nine months, Isabella!

I Just Don't Get It

Why, oh why, would a car sit in the Costco parking lot, watching me unload a cart very full of groceries (and a number of small children) for more than 10 minutes, with its blinker persistently letting me know it is waiting for my parking spot, when there are a number of spots open about 6-8 slots down from mine? Or one row over? HOW LAZY ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

(Sorry. Had to rant, just a little.)

Mmm, Mmm Good

I love IKEA. It is one of the world's greatest shopping experiences. Things are bargain priced, unique and useful, and the selection is plentiful. The bathrooms are set up for children. There is a check-in playground. There are even kid activity kiosks in areas where a mom might get bogged down and wish to thoughtfully consider a purchase for more than 30 seconds. Say, for instance, in the window treatment section, where I happily spent a good 15 minutes today, even with 4 children in tow.

But even better than all of these things is the IKEA cafeteria. The meatballs with cream gravy and lingonberry jam are absolutely delicious, and with kids' meals priced at just $1.99, what could be better?

Not much, in my opinion.

Mother Mary...Or, More Correctly, Mother OF Mary

Julia has been cast as Mary in her preschool's Christmas pageant. This is a really, REALLY big deal at her school, let me tell you.

For months now, as soon as people learn that Julia has switched to Mission Bell preschool, I have been hearing, "Wait until the Christmas Pageant, you are going to LOVE it!"

Now, I am really, truly not one of those stage moms who pushes. As long as my kids are happy with what they are doing, I am happy. But I could not help but catch the enthusiasm of the teachers when they gave me the news at pick up time today. All three of them gushed over her, saying how perfect she was for their Mary. They pointed out how similar her facial features and hair were to the likeness of Mary most often portrayed and how her natural mothering way was perfect for the role. They handed me a pre-made costume (THANK YOU!), complete with hair clips, and a dialogue sheet to practice lines with her at home, and sent me on my way. By the time I walked out of the preschool, I was puffed up like a peacock.

I believe there is little I will ever look forward to seeing as much as I am looking forward to this performance. There are three preschool classes of about 20 kids each that are all coming together for this one pageant. The 3 year olds will be the angels and lambs while the 4 year olds tackle the subtleties of the more complex roles. I can't stop thinking of that book The Best Christmas Pageant Ever where the whole thing is a disaster, but even if it is, how could it be anything other than a completely adorable disaster? I truly can't wait to see it. This would be true no matter what role Julia was playing, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't thrilled to see her cast as Mary.

Naturally, I'll post pictures. I might even have to figure out the whole video link thing. (But don't hold your breath for that one!) In the meantime, I am enjoying this holy influence on my occasionally-somewhat-less-than-holy 4 year old daughter. May it live on, long beyond Christmas!

Happy New Year!

It was Fall Luncheon time at Sacred Heart School again today. This year's theme was "Happy Holidays". Each of the 10 tables celebrated a different holiday, and ours was New Year.

Here we are, the hostesses with the mostesses. We are the same five who put together China last year and had a great time working together again.



Here is the whole length of the table. It runs from the champagne fountain at one end, to the painting of Times Square in the back, seating 40 guests in between. Most of the guests sat at our table last year as well, so we were serving a friendly crowd.



Here is a closer view of the table. Each guest received a split of champagne and a wrapped gift to take home, as well as a party blower. All the champagne-bottle centerpieces have labels with New Year's Resolutions on them.

As it turns out, the combination of flowing champagne and noise makers made our table one of the rowdiest...but that's the way we like it. It is a total hoot to see the old guard of our parish come out and party down in the middle of the afternoon.



As before, all three of our priests attended (our pastor, who sat at the "Christmas" table was wearing a "I believe in Santa Claus" hat, which was nice touch) along with a few Carmelite sisters, the principal, a good number of Knights, the former principal, at least half a dozen folks from my choir, and many, many others. It made for a diverse, fun group, though it was hardly intimate at 400 seated, plus their servers.

I, as madame treasurer, will be counting the money later in the week (give me a few days, I need to recover from this first!) but all indications are that we pulled off a very successful event for our kids.

I Did It To Myself

Sam (as he is voraciously gulping down the shrimp scampi I made for dinner tonight):

"I don't want macaroni and cheese anymore. I just want this."

You Can Call Him Sir

Sir Knight, that is. Jay is now officially a 4th degree member of the Knights of Columbus.

Here he is, decked out in his full regalia (he's holding the plumed hat in front of him and you can't see the sword very well, but, trust me, it looks great).

Shortly after this photo was taken, I had the pleasure of dressing in formal attire and accompanying him to a dinner. I put makeup on, I curled my hair, I wore a floor-length gown that was not in any way nursing-friendly. It was great! It has been so long since I've dressed up like that that I forgot how fun it is. Sorry I cannot post a photo...if you can believe it, I forgot my camera for the weekend! Someone was kind enough to give me the one above.

At any rate, I am very happy for Jay and, indeed, happy for our whole family that we are involved in such a fine organization.

Now I guess you can say I'm a Lady of a Knight. (Hee hee hee)

An Angel and a Saint

I would be remiss if I did not also post our All Saints Day photos.

I cleverly recycled Sam's dragon slayer costume so Lindsey could be Joan of Arc.

Jay gently suggested that we might remove the horns in order to make a more authentic Saint Joan. However, since I had just spend several evenings frustrated lovingly hand-tacking these horns (did I mention that this fabric is thin and slippery?) to the costume, I was disinclined to do this. And, after all, since the only known portrait of Joan of Arc was long ago destroyed and we now have only artists' imaginative depictions of her likeness, can we really be sure that she didn't have horns on her armor? It must have taken a lot to make a 17 year old girl seem scary to the English and perhaps that's just what she needed to make her point.

At any rate, I regretted my decision when we went to the school mass and had no trouble picking Lindsey out in the crowded pews because her horns were the highest point in the row. Turns out, it's not really the best adornment for mass. Ah, well, live and learn.

Sam decided he wanted to be Saint Michael the Archangel.

While I applaud the decision overall, he decided to do this the day before when I, certain that he would be using the Franciscan robe we already had, was little in the mood to go find a white robe and wings for him. Now, who would have imagined that shopping for Halloween-type accessories on Halloween afternoon might be a little trying? I was unable, in three stops, to locate anything resembling a white robe (although, thankfully, I did find good wings), so there I was at my sewing machine at midnight, turning a Walmart sheet into a robe fit for an Archangel. Luckily, he looked so cute in it that I nearly immediately forgot my irritation.

So there you have it. An angel and a saint. Now if they'd just stay that way...

Halloween Photos (Part 2)

Sam required an entire post of his own because he simply could not choose what to be for Halloween. Over the course of the school day, trick or treating and two parties, he was four different things, one made just for him this year and the other three pulled out of the Halloween bins in the garage. Here I present to you the many faces of Sam.

His official costume: Dragon Slayer

America's pasttime...only this time he's the player and the ball!


Some scary, flashing red-eyed ghoul...

...and, of course, the classic dead motorcycle rider.


He's worse than the host of the Oscars. But at least he had fun.