Kashann and Clan

First of all I want to know if Wicked is the new word everywhere or if it's not coincidental that I started hearing it right and left since moving to New England.  It's "Wicked cold", "Wicked awesome" "Wicked ugly". I even hear it in the halls at church and they aren't talking about the scriptural kind of wicked. Someone told me that it's been Wicked this and Wicked that around here for years but to me it sounds like a new thing.

Another word that is part of the local vocabulary is Whoopie Pie. They just keep coming up and it's fun to see people's reaction when I admit that we've never tasted one ever. Finally someone brought us some on  New Year's Eve and we are now just like everyone else. We eat Whoopie Pies.

I found them okay but definitely can't understand what the big whoop is.  I like Donuts way better. 

Years ago, one Christmas Eve I took it upon myself to plan the Fielding Family Christmas Party. We met at my parents home in Walla Walla, WA and had a big fondue party Christmas Eve. All I remember is my Dad complaining non stop about the hot oil sizzling in the middle of the table and extension cords running around the room. Way too dangerous. Especially with Kashann's 1 and 2 year-olds sitting up to the table with us. And he wanted to know why there weren't any potatoes with the meal. Seems like he spent the whole evening in the kitchen microwaving everyone a potato that of course none of us touched. 

He also had a hard time with the length of the meal. What's the point of sitting down to dinner if you still have to cook it? This meal could go on for well over an hour waiting for two minutes for each bite. What he didn't understand was that was the whole point. We wanted to Sit and Talk and Eat for a really long time.  

Despite my father's bad fondue attitude Brent and I completely disagreed and decided that fondue was definitely tradition worthy. Several years back, though we decided it was more of a New Year's Eve thing.  Now we only get out the electric frying pan once a year. New Year's Eve. And it is filled with hot oil and surrounded by raw meats and veggies and 5 different dips and lots of children reaching in all different directions. A little high stress but nothing that we can't handle one night a year.  And Dad. . .  So far no one has been burned . . (though many have been popped if they choose to sit in the middle of the table, like where we stuck Kennon's friend this year.)

 It's amazing how good fried broccoli is. And Brent was even frying the grape tomatoes. Any other day I would question, "Now, why are we frying it?" But on New Year's Eve let's just get it all in the grease. You can start your diet Jan. 1 and man you are going to want to have the last Hurrah of 2010 like this.  Joining us this year for our greasy tradition were Alainna and Johnathon still hanging around from Long Island, and Kennon's favorite friend here, Georgia.

Now Kennon doesn't ask her parents everyday to move back to Washington. On some days she tells us she wants to move to Maine. That's where Georgia lives. She's only 20 minutes away but around here that easily could mean Maine. She is one of the five beehives in Kennon's church class. 
Has anyone else been noticing how tall Kennon is lately? She is just as about as tall as me. And look at her wicked long hair. She keeps telling everyone that she is growing it out, so no she can't cut it yet. She'll cut it when it is "grown out".  That must mean hanging below her behind. 

I am growing out my hair also. I have never had long hair even once in my whole life so I am enjoying it even it if is a bit stringy. Once again it's impossible to catch Kennon (hair's longer, runs faster, and plays piano far better than me) though I think I have been growing it out for nearly as long as she has.  It started last summer when I made a statement to Brent that I wasn't going to cut my hair until he got a job.


That's back when it had never entered it my mind that he wouldn't be getting a job out of dental school. 


 I am still letting it grow now a year and a half later. My girls love it longer and are going to kill me when I do finally cut it off. They are always pulling up old pictures of me with short hair and saying, "Mom, look how ugly you were. Don't cut your hair!" 


Our lives have changed a bit in seems in the last month. We feel so much less overwhelmed with our new business. All those little things we never felt like we would ever get around to doing have been done. We put up our sign. .  finally. We had the wood floors refinished over Christmas break and successfully moved all the furniture back in on our own. 


Now when I visit the office to do the weekly cleaning I look around and think, "Wow, we did it. I like this little office of ours". Where as before I never went to the office without getting extremely stressed out about our situation. 


Brent is settling in acting like a real dentist and doesn't come home with nearly as many office horror stories. He also doesn't spend all night on dental town (his favorite dentist site) once he gets home trying to learn how to be a dentist. Things are going as well or maybe better than we anticipated when we bought this practice. He tells me every day about how much he likes meeting all his patients and how amazingly nice they all are. I went with him last week and got a sitter for the day on Friday. The office is officially closed Fridays but Brent keeps having them schedule stuff that he can't fit in during the four day work week. I came to answer phones and get more acquainted with everything.


Now, I've always sort of felt bad for Brent since we started this thing that he has to be the one to go to work everyday while I get to stay home without the worries. After one whole day hanging out in his world though I have changed my mind. Going to the office is fun. The hours speed by while you have a great time talking and meeting new people all day.  No one needs to feel bad for him. What about me?