The Dryer

Dear The Dryer,

First I must start off saying how much I appreciate you drying my clothes. I love the way you make my clothes feel and smell. I love catching the scent of heavenly fabric softener on our clothes throughout the day and thinking fondly of your valiant service. I love that you are there for me on Sunday mornings when I don't have time to iron - that I can give those clothes a little spritz and toss them to you knowing you'll get enough wrinkles out that we can safely go out into public.
The Dryer, I am writing this with a very heavy heart. I don't understand what has taken place in our relationship. I came to you yesterday, counting on you to dry our unmentionables, and you gave me nothing. When the clothes were still wet after the first cycle, I guess I was just in denial and gave you another chance. After the second go-round, however, I had to accept the cold, hard fact that you've stopped working for me. What has happened to us?
I've given this a lot of careful thought in the last 24 hours and I wonder if I owe you an apology -- or at least an explanation. I know that last week I pulled out The Refrigerator and The Stove to clean the walls behind and the floors beneath. I wasn't showing favoritism; I really was getting to you and your faithful friend, The Washer. I promise. Also,I swear to you that the whole incident with The Hand Blender was truly just a terrible accident. It was old, it had lived a good life and seen some really good times. I didn't intend to appear cold and heartless as I tossed it out. I understand how my actions last week could have made you feel insecure or upset. I love my appliances, though and I wouldn't ever dream of mistreating them or showing preferential treatment to any of them.
So, The Dryer, I apologize for being angry with you. I am sorry for the tirade about how this is the second time in 6 months that we've had to call the repairman. I regret saying that I wish I hadn't bought you. I am human...a human with 2 loads of smelly, damp clothes laying in strategic places throughout her home. Please forgive me and find it in your heating element to start drying my clothes again. We miss you. We miss clothes that are soft and smell April Fresh.
Tomorrow, hopefully, the very nice man from Darrell's Appliance will drive here from Beautiful Downtown Benson and fix you. We will take good care of you. Let's let bygones be bygones and go back to how things were. You dry my clothes, and I love you. Okay?

Love,
Mary

Socks

I am so far behind. Pitifully behind. In everything. October brought us some beautiful Fall weather, Halloween, an oral surgery, 2 separate viruses, and a tonsilectomy. I have pictures stashed on this computer to post - pictures of soccer, the kids playing at the dam and new park, painting pumpkins, Halloween...
Today, however, the preceding picture is my project. Yesterday my sweet husband helped me conquer the Goliath of clean laundry piles. Today my hope of hopes is to FINALLY sort all the blasted socks and get them into drawers. Then, just maybe, I won't have to dig through the whole dang basket in the early morning hours searching for matches. Just maybe.

Uncle!

When I was a kid we used to play all sorts of masochistic games like "bloody knuckles" and "red carpet." I don't know if it was because I grew up with three brothers, or if all kids were maiming each other in the name of fun. Regardless, I really think I spent a good deal of my childhood with one arm pinned behind my back. There was one way to find relief - one tiny word that would mean release and return of blood flow to the trapped appendage. To "cry uncle" was to admit defeat. It was to acknowledge that something was bigger and more powerful than you. The ultimate concession.
So here I find myself - no bloody knuckles, no beet-red forearm, no pinned appendages - but finally ready to cry "Uncle!" Fall is here. I can't stop the cold from coming. I can't hold the leaves on the tree branches. It's bigger than me and more powerful and I can't do anything about it.
I usually like Fall. Scratch that. I usually LOVE Fall. It's my favorite time of the year. I love how the air changes. I love the colors and smells of this season. I love that that school starts and that it's like a wonderful kick-off for a whole line-up of holidays. I love Fall clothes, Fall foods, and just about everything about it.
This year has been different for me, though. I'm having a really hard time letting go of Summer and embracing Fall. I feel like I've been fighting it off with every bit of my energy. I've been contemplating why I'm not being true to my favorite season - why I'm doublecrossing Fall - and I've concluded that it's not my season that's the problem, but TIME.
Time is passing way too fast! Holidays are coming and going. Years feel like months, and months like days. The fact of the matter is - my kids are growing up! I love watching them grow, change, and progress. It's just happening too fast! I feel like I'm grasping for dear life onto something that is just slipping away. It's bigger than me and more powerful. I can't do anything about it. They are changing and growing and I haven't documented everything and I haven't done everything that I've wanted to. I find myself staring at them a little more and sometimes just closing my eyes and memorizing how it feels to rub my cheek against their baby-soft skin, and how their little skinny arms feel wrapped around my neck. I want to hold them a little longer, smell their sweet hair, and nuzzle their soft little necks. I find myself tearing up a little more than I need to as I watch them interact. (Okay, the nice interactions - not when they're beating the trash out of each other...)I feel like I've been digging my heels in and pulling for all I'm worth to fight against it.
Uncle! I'm ready now. I'm ready to finally put away the rest of the summer clothes, and even our beloved flip flops. I'm ready to put the sweaters in their closets and admit that everyone has to wear socks every day. (Washing and sorting socks... now that's another post.) I'm ready to linger in the front entrance of the grocery store and drink in the smell of the cinnimon scented pine cones. I'm ready to enjoy the chill in the air and the beautiful fall colors. I'm happy about working on Halloween costumes and getting super excited about Thanksgiving. Don't tell my kids, but there are some Christmas presents stashed in the garage. Bring it!
So today, I'm going to take some deep breaths and welcome fall. I'm going to help my kids make little bats out their footprints to hang on the wall and I'm going to take another deep breath as I realize how big those footprints are - and that they're only getting bigger. I love where they've been and love where they're headed.
Just like the beginning of fall means that more wonderful things are in store, I'm ready to concede to this time thing and remember that we have many more wonderful things in store. Okay. I'm ready...now. Happy Fall!

Happy Birthday, Rachel!

My baby turned four. Yep, it happened. It seems like yesterday that she joined our little family. We certainly have celebrated the event thoroughly. It started with a family birthday party with others who had b-days in August and September. We went to my brother's house in Ogden and celebrated with cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Love it.

Rachel and Bailey are the only girls in the slew of grandkids/cousins that live here in Utah. They do pretty well keeping up with all the boys, but are also a bit spoiled with girly stuff.

Rach got some fun gifts, including a new princess hippity hop. She's been hopping on Matt's old one. It's a super groovy one that has two pointy handles (that kinda look like cow teats) and psychadellic swirls all over it. Heaven only knows how old it is - we bought it at the DI when Matt was 3. So, she's now the proud owner of a more sleek, more purple version.

The weekend before her big day, we met Nana and took her to Chuck E. Cheese's. I'm not really a big fan of places like that, because they are usually way overpriced, the food isn't so good, and they are just big hot beds of germs. Maybe it's that I'm going soft in my old age. Maybe it's the raging coupons Steve printed off the computer. Regardless, we went to visit the old mouse. (Not THE mouse. We wish). The C.E.C. that we visited is fairly new, and surprisingly bright and clean. The kids loved it.

The pizza was still a little overpriced, even with the coupon, but not bad. It was a great time, though, for the kids and it was wonderful to celebrate with Nana.


Rachel's actual birthday fell on Saturday the 12th. We had a little fairy party with her cousins and a few little girls from our neighborhood.

We transformed the little cuties into fairies with colored body glitter and wings. They decorated magic wands and went searching for fairy gold. We played games and decorated cupcakes.

The party was lots of fun. Steve had to go to work shortly after, so we spent the next few hours just hanging out and playing with Rachel's new toys. To top the afternoon off, we made a visit to Magical Moon - the toy store here in town. That store is absolute heaven for kids - and a nightmare for parents. It's a ton of super fun (and very expensive) toys in a relatively small area. In fairness, it's a wonderful store and the staff is fantastic. It's just darn near a miracle to get out of the store without someone crying - because they're not done looking at every single one the the kajillion toys in stock, because they didn't get to try the plasma car, because they want another free sample of fudge, because they didn't get to buy a special toy that costs more than a month's worth of electricity...

That night we had a movie night followed by the traditional snuggle where we recount the events of the day the birthday child was born.


Steve had the day off on Sunday so we had Rachel's big birthday dinner that night. The birthday gal or guy gets to choose the meal. Rachey chose Macaroni and Cheese so I made ham and cheese bowtie pasta (told her they were butterflies). I had wanted to make a fairy cake for Rachel, but after a few mishaps - including burned rubber stench that lingered for a day or so - I was feeling a bit frustrated and discouraged. I'm certainly no pro (I really needed Sarah Bailey!), but I can usually pump something decent out. Anyhow, I asked Rachel what she wanted and she told me a pink cake. Nice. That's what I'm talking about. (I threw on some new plastic fairy figures that go with her new Tinkerbell playhouse for good measure. I couldn't fail entirely.)

We had a great time celebrating this crazy gal making it to four years old!

We love this little girl! We waited almost five years for her and then spent the first year of her life walking the floor while she screamed with colic and horrible reflux, but she's worth all of the waiting and screaming. Rachel is intelligent,strong, funny,stubborn, intense, sweet, endearing, and nurturing. She loves to help and is the supreme snuggler. She is 100% her Daddy's princess. She keeps us laughing and constantly suprises us with her wit. Often as I check on her at night and watch her sleeping (pretty much the only time she holds still), I'm still amazed that she's mine. She is a blessing to us and I am so grateful to be her mother. We love her with all of our "hearts and souls." :) Happy Birthday, Rachel!

Fancy Nancy

Yesterday I came home from a PTA meeting and found this:





Quite enjoying the clashing T-shirt and dress combos on the girls, I asked Rachel why they were dressed up. She told me that they had been playing Fancy Nancy restaurant. They apparently began their luncheon upstairs in the girls' room with plastic food and dishes, then moved downstairs so they could eat "real" lunch in their fancy restaurant.

They did make a dish for me which tasted lovely, but I was very pitifully under-dressed.

Back to School

Last week. It happened. The inevitable. Matt went back to school. :) We love school, don't get me wrong. It's just a bitter-sweet time of year. We are sad that summer is over, but excited for the new adventures and friends that come with a new school year.
Matthew is in fifth grade this year. I'm not really sure how that happened, because it seems like it was just yesterday that he was four and dying to have his big birthday so he could go to school. (He turned 5 in January and was sorely disappointed that he didn't get to go to Kindergarten the next day.) But 5th grade it is. He's excited about his teacher and, overall, happy to be back. He's a great student and I'm certain it will be a super year!

Kitchen Sink

Does it get any better than this?

Family Home Evening at Angie's. Yum! I tell folks that I am an emotional eater...Well, the Kitchen Sink is pure happiness -- especially when there are four other spoons and my four favorite people in the world are using them!