Merry Christmas 2010

Christmas Eve  2010 Top 5

1. A surprise visit from a hometeacher in a red suit Christmas Eve

I think he wasted his time though. Caroline kept yelling" fake" the whole time and Marcus and his little cousin Johnathon of course wanted nothing to do with him.

So much for all his "elf training". 

2. Christmas Eve Concert 

In lieu of caroling I booked our family to sing for the elderly shut-ins. We even had some real talent available -Alainna the soprano and her husband Stephen the pianist. It was too crazy running the show and taking pictures, so I didn't get very many. This is Marcus dancing to Caroline singing "Suzy Snowflake". We sang for almost an hour because they just wouldn't let us stop. It was a great way to kick off our Christmas Eve. 

Mary was in the audience. When we refused to sing anymore she jumped up and started singing and playing. We promised to come back next Christmas if not sooner. 

3. Continuing the Chinese Christmas Eve tradition, complete with chopsticks, even for the little ones.

We order takeout which really itself should be enough.  But we can't resist making some extras at home even though the origination of the chinese takeout tradition was Simplicity.  We made rice, egg rolls, orange chicken, and  butterflies -wontons stuffed with crab and cream cheese that look nothing like butterflies, but we've always called them that so there you have it.  It was a feast!

4. Surprising Alainna with her 26th Birthday Cake.

 5. New PJ's so we all look pretty christmas morning. 

Christmas Eve is always so much more fun than Christmas! 

First Day of Winter

Yesterday on the first day of winter we woke up to our first snowfall. The timing was impeccible. The duration was not so impressive. Marcus and I went out to shovel off our big wide driveway and spent a good half hour doing a bang up job.  I figured this was the beginning of our White Christmas and we didn't want the snow freezing up and left there all winter. 

Two hours later it was above 40 and there wasn't Any snow Anywhere. But it least it got me outside in the snow. . . with my son. 

 

We splurged this season and got an early Christmas present. Our very first scanner/fax/copier/printer. We have lived several months now without even a printer and Brent was tired of me phoning him at the office to fax and print for me. I haven't taken the time to figure out how to operate it yet, but Kennon has been busy bringing all of our old dusty picture albums to life. I found this one on the desktop. 

 

 The New PJ shot of Caroline's first Christmas in the single wide.  We were an exclusive pink back in those days.

 

And our first Christmas in Buffalo. New PJ Shot 2006.

I'm glad we left that tree behind.

Cursed with Carelessness

 

Look at that smile! No one would ever guess that she is skating with two right feet. Her silly mother decided we had too many skates when we left Buffalo and gave some back to the Salvation Army store that they came from. No reason to have a size 1 and 2 for Caroline. 

I tried her "pair" on her about five times Saturday night at the rink (Free Skate Night!) before in frustration I flipped them over figuring the bottom must identify the side since it was impossible to tell the difference between these skates.   One bottom said "1" and and the other side said "2".  How much worse could I screw up her skates then to give her two rights of different sizes?  

But I laced up those two right feet and off she went and skated just like she had a perfect pair. She had to be dragged off the ice an hour and a half later. 

Meanwhile I skated around with a right 9 and left 9 and complained and complained. I always forget how painful skating is for amateurs. Unless you are six apparently. 

One of the reasons we moved to New Hampshire was we decided in Buffalo that we love a snowy winter.  So where's the snow?  It had barely dipped below 35 until this last week.  Last Sunday was our coldest day we've had.

Coincidentally it was also the day I was determined despite cold and complaining that the whole family would help me out with the annual Christmas Card. I make the cards, write the letters, print the pictures, stamp and seal the envelopes. . . I really don't think 10 minutes in the backyard is asking too much!

As usual, the head of the household had the worst attitude of all about the yearly family picture ordeal.  I can't figure out what he hates so much about coordinating our outfits and smiling once a year, but I can always count on him, to say, "How many times are we going to have to take a family picture?"

Oh, brother.

Some day he is going to thank me for preserving these memories.

Lucky for me Marcus is good at doing what he is told. The other kids were bribed with a dollar each.  Given only if they held still, smiled and didn't complain, which of course Brent thought was ridiculous. Paying your children to take a picture. 


It just dawned on me that maybe I blew it, paying my children on the Sabbath. Whoops!

So that is the story behind the annual picture that I will be popping into our Christmas Cards in the next few days.

Please let me know if you need our new address. I am looking forward to the postman bringing me yours.

 When you live in the woods you ought to be able to walk out your back door and chop down your own Christmas tree, don't ya think? 

Someday that is my plan. But for now, we aren't allowed to do any chopping in these woods we are renting. 

And if you want to buy a tree it so happens that the pre-cut trees are a lot cheaper than chopping your own.  So we opted to let someone else do the chopping and saved us a few bucks. 

I keep noticing that it costs you more around here when you GET to do the work. The farmers here are masterminds that have duped the public. They have hyped up farming to the point that people pay just for the thrill of doing what us farmers used to call work.  

You can get a box of apples for $.69 cents conveniently at your corner store, but if you want to drive a half hour out of your way to our quaint little farm and walk around picking your own, that will cost you at least a dollar a pound. Or you can pick up the wormy apples on the ground for only $.75 cents a pound.

 We'll cut down your tree for you and save you time, labor and money but of course it will cost ya double if we let you have all the fun. 

I think Brent and I need to move the farming operation we left in the west out here.  Where people pay YOU to do YOUR work.  

I can't tell you how many thousands of apples have rotted in our orchard because the packing plant didn't want them and so we couldn't pay to get them picked. And out here they have convinced the masses into paying them to pick them up OFF YOUR GROUND. 

Anyways, this was just a simple Christmas tree post that got off track.

I am so happy to have our first live Christmas tree since Christmas 1996. We have been fake for all these years thanks to a stupid thrift center tree I bought that was always good enough.

Now our home smells all piney and festive and I am looking forward to a long month of picking up all those real live needles. 

He sent Marcus and I to do his bidding

It's not even 9 a.m. but already I have had quite a day. Today was auction day. We found an old fixer upper home in a great location. . . full of mold and pretty small but nothing that scared my husband off. He had a great vision for the place. It was a bank owned property just sitting around for who knows how long while the weather was doing a number on it.  It was bad. I can't imagine why anyone would want it. . . besides us. 


So we decided on our high bid and Marcus and I attended the live auction this morning, because Dr. Casper was all booked up. I asked Brent several times to give me all his tips because I had never bid at an auction before. He had nothing for me except that I just shouldn't go higher than we had agreed upon. As usual Brent made the mistake of forgetting that he needs to spell things out clearly with me.


So I arrived with only these directions. As the bidding began, I had my precious yellow card in hand which made me an official bidder.  Everyone was surprised to see a 2 year old at a live auction and the auctioneer joked with Marcus telling him to grab my card and hold it high for Momma.

First to be auctioned was the property where the auction was held. It was a beautiful big home on a large lot about a half hour away from the home we were interested in. 

I couldn't see a thing wrong with it and thought, "Wow, if only this was the house my husband sent me to buy". The  bidding started low and continued to progress. It was exciting and I was so happy to be at my first big auction. 

But meanwhile I was also busy trying to keep my son in his stroller quiet. The man next to me said something to me about Marcus. 

With yellow card in hand I made a very small hand gesture as I replied to him. . . . having NO IDEA what error I had just committed. 

Suddenly there was the auctioneer moving in on me calling "195 here  . . . 195. . . "Blah, Blah, Blah. . .

I still wasn't sure what was going on. Did he think that hand gesture was a bid? This went on for a few seconds. Panic was setting in. I didn't know if I was allowed to interrupt an auction with excuses and I still wasn't sure if I needed to. Did I seriously just bid $195 thousand on a property that I knew nothing of?  

After a few very long seconds I was spared from maybe just ruining my life. A couple feet over a yellow card was raised. That is when the reality of what I had almost done hit me. The auctioneer immediately turned to me and said, "Do I hear $205?" 

Are you kidding me? I'm not in the bidding? Am I? 


It sold for $200! I am still sick to my stomach.


And Brent thought it was safe to send me alone to the auction.  And I realize I totally bid the last guy up another 5 thousand bucks and I feel horrible about that.

But no time to recover because the home we wanted was next up. So there I was bidding again. The auctioneer was right in front of me and taking me very seriously now. I had earned the respect of the crowd. This woman means business. I had just jumped into a bidding war at the very end. Who knew what I might do this time around?

In less than five bids though it was above my highest bid and I followed instructions and dropped out. But before he gave it to the guy for $115,000 the auctioneer came over and asked me directly if I would go for $117,000. A personal offer just for me.  


But I was out. If only he knew my authorization wasn't even close to $117,000 let alone the $195,000 I was throwing around earlier. 

So I went home without a house. And very grateful at that.  I don't have to break the news to my husband tonight that I got a really good deal on a house, but it's the wrong location and I blew the budget. I also don't have a huge rebellion on my hands from my children because I just bought the moldy house they begged us not to buy.


The house hunt continues. Several people have asked me what we are looking for. I think they are referring to neighborhood, layout, size, etc. I only have one reply.  " A good deal". We aren't buying our dream house this time around. At least I am pretty sure it won't look like that when we buy it. We don't look at nice houses.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone

Love,  Caroline. 

I might as well have joined the black friday crowd. It's before 6 and I am wide awake. I don't know how others can sleep in on their days off. I have never been able to figure out how it's possible to get up early all week and then switch into sleeping in mode on the weekends. Maybe it's because sleeping in never existed around my house growing up. If you got to sleep in that meant Mom didn't wake you till it was almost seven. She has cursed me for life.




We spent the 4th Thanksgiving in a row on our own on the East Coast. In my perfect world, I would fly home twice a year and meet all my brothers and sisters there. August and Thanksgiving.  I love August in Eastern Washington. . . for a visit anyway. Farming and living there in August means hoeing tackweed under a hot sun, trying to keep your crops alive without a single day of rain all month, and canning produce whenever you are indoors and after doing without these activities for sometime now. . . it just doesn't sound too great.  But when you are just hanging out in people's air conditioned homes, eating their good food, and swimming most of the time the Washington life is pretty good. We always love our extended summer vacations there, and really hope that we can continue them even though Brent no longer has an entire summer off. We were pretty spoiled for 4 years. That's the way I see the dental school years. Now real life has started and will we still get to take vacations? We haven't taken a single one yet since moving here and that is a long stretch in our family.


Though I spend the weeks before Thanksgiving feeling bad for myself that we aren't meeting up with cousins and grandparents, it always turns out that we have a good time on our own. This year my children begged me to cook the entire meal and have our own feast, but I think the cook gets the biggest say and I accepted an invitation to share our feasting with two other families.  I am glad that my kids think the best kind of party is just us, but at the same time I find them quite selfish that they insist on me cooking it all. Kennon and I were hoping to run in the Portsmouth Turkey Trot, but first Savannah threw a fit that her Thanksgiving would be ruined if I was allowed to spend 1/2 the morning running instead of cooking. Then Brent threw a fit that it would cost us $40 just to run the race. 

So Kennon and I held a local 5K around our neighborhood on Turkey Day. I had big plans to hand out fliers door to door and make it a party but I never got around to planning it. . .  so it was just us. Maybe next year. I kept up with Kennon the whole time and that was enough of a win for me.  Brent didn't run because he was in recovery from three different events in the last 24 hours that did him in. First off, figuring out how to get his wife's van out of the ditch that she backed into the evening before. Second, the first basketball game he has played in weeks. And finally he spent a couple hours thanksgiving morning highlighting my hair and that is way more intense than dentistry.

I like my new hair. It's nice to have my multi-talented dentist around on his days off.

Savannah used to do this every year for Thanksgiving. I went through the costume box that I thought was packed away for another year, because Caroline insisted on feasting as a pilgrim. Camille also joined in. I wished I had an indian costume for Marcus. He even found a horse to ride and would've been cute as an indian boy. The only indian costume we had was in my size and I wasn't feeling as festive as my two girls.

Don't you think we need a big dog for Marcus? It has to be big. A small dog couldn 't hold up to his abuse. He tried to hang onto that dog all afternoon. I think it's so great because my girls were terrified of dogs when they were two. Boys are pretty awesome.

There are two Brents in our bishopric. This is Brent our Bishop.  He carved the Turkey for us. Brent (my Brent) feels pretty safe that they won't want a third. 

We finally have some friends with older kids. Savannah has endured way too many get togethers with our young Buffalo friends where her only option is hanging out with adults if she doesn't want to babysit. They played outdoors all afternoon, even once it got cold and dark. Luckily we aren't celebrating in Washington or they would all be forced to play in snowsuits yesterday. They even had a bonfire to warm up between games. 

Lady in Red

Here's my Camille waiting for the bus the morning after her 9th Birthday wearing her new red coat. I love it when my girls braid their hair. Camille has lots of styles. She has been doing her own hair since kindergarten. It used to be so crazy I could barely stand to send her out the door with all her bows, ponys and ribbons. But I let her go without a word because I had learned from Kennon in kindergarten that it is best to let them experiment away.  A couple years of really crazy do's makes for a very experienced beautician by age 9.

Besides her big bowl of peas the birthday girl also got a new Wii game -Disney Sing It, which provided a great family karaoke party last night in the basement. We have moved everything down to the bottom of our house now. That's where the fireplace is and where everyone wants to be.

Brent has been pining for Rock Band for a couple years now. I think this is better because we already know all the songs. 

This video was not taken by me (it's pretty unsteady) and is just for people like Grandma who miss Camille and want to see her singing on her birthday. 

A day off - Thank you Veterans!

I have been doing a lot of bragging about NH the last 3 months. I think I need to ramp it up though. So far only one friend/family member has been persuaded. Candice and 

Peter. 

So here's another reason. It's the number one thing around here. . . if you ask me. And if you're reading this and think "Oh gross, give me a break" then maybe we wouldn't be such great neighbors after all, so don't bother. 

I am talking about The Dump. New Hampshire offers the general public a far better option than goodwill or the garbage man.  Near our house is the city Transfer/Recycling Station aka - the Dump. 

But it's not just a Dump. It is so much more.  It's a STORE. Really! There is a building that things are organized in. It is like one awesome yard sale held twice a week. . .  but it is all for. . . FREE. They call it the swap shop. And it is a busy place. Volunteers from the community take shifts there sorting and organizing the donations during a 6 hour shift twice week when the Dump is open for business. I can't believe all the stuff I have found there. I'm looking around my house for reminders now. Sewing desk, Deck Chairs, Wood Rocking Chair, Nice baby changing table that I grabbed (just in case) but refashioned into a laundry folding station that is saving my life, Reader's Digest Piano Books that I grew up and love and have been trying to find on Ebay for years. . And That's just the beginning. Sometimes I pick up a Little Tykes Play kitchen or Basketball hoop, etc. just for the week then return it to swap for something else. I don't even know how yard sales stay in business in this state thanks to our sweet dump.  I even joined the volunteer list and will be pulling a three hour shift thanksgiving weekend. 

So, if you're cool like me and all about free. . . look into the Live Free or Die State.

I am so dead when my two tweens see this post. They really hate it when I talk like "a Cheapo".

Last weekend Savannah was there shopping away and saw a kid from her school there at the Dump, which as you can imagine, was totally embarrassed to be seen by her peers at the dump.  She took off for the van and didn't even listen when I pointed out, "Come on, he's in there too!" 

But the truth is they love the dump every bit as much as their mother. How do I get them to get their Saturday morning chores done every morning in a timely manner. "You guys have one hour and I'm headed to the dump. Whoever's not done by then won't be coming along." 

Of course I actually hate bringing them along but I always keep in mind the fact that on it's open again on Tuesday while the kids are away at school. This is important because that is the day you can sneak into their room and retrieve anything to return to the dump. 

So Caroline found her a pair of rollerblades there last weekend and has been taking advantage of our lack of carpet in our home. I wasn't letting them skate much around here in case it was bad on the rental floors. But Yesterday was Veterans Day and we were all home just hanging around when Brent decided that it was a great thing to do indoors. He even went as far as to set up an indoor race track. All our furniture (mostly from the dump, though I will say that I draw the line at couches. No dump couches or cushy chairs. We are anti-bed bugs, and smoke or pet smells around here) was pushed up against the walls and the course was set.  Caroline went first and set the time to beat at 35 seconds.I

Kennon was studying below in her room and had come up several times to scream at us all about the racket, but eventually she just joined in. The race began on Marcus's bed and continued down the hall, around the coffee table then into the dining room and around the table there. Then back again to Marcus's bed. I always feel like the party pooper because Brent is hands down more fun but this time I really did have an excuse. No size 9 rollerblades. But tomorrow is Saturday and I'll keep my fingers crossed that some size 9 woman around here is ready to donate them to my new favorite store.

Marcus doesn't have rollerblades either. But he strapped on his drum and squeezed in between heats down the hallway.

 

The hardest part was keeping the runways clear. After drumming for a while, Marcus grabbed the broom and kept shooting it out of the kitchen doorway. Luckily no one was decapitated or swept off their feet.

  

Here is Kennon's action shot. She was pretty good. . but not good enough. 

  
To beat her little sister Savannah.  Savannah is extremely competitive and just kept racing the course until she had it down to 16 seconds.  That was when Brent decided to strap on his blades.

We all know who Savannah got her competitive streak from. Just look at the determination in his eyes. So intent on the prize. Beating his 11 year old daughter. In the end he triumphed beating Savannah by 1/2 a second.

 This is an action shot from later in the day. We had a very late in the season campfire. Savannah's marshmallow had just melted off her stick and had a brief stint on my hot dog.

 We decided that fall weenie roasts are much preferable to summer. No mosquitoes and a warm fire is much more appreciated when they are needed for warmth. I

I brought out hot chocolate to encourage lingering and Brent remarked while taking this picture that I was looking very New Hampshiry which is such a compliment I am sure since I have told him many times that none of the women around here wear makeup let alone heels. It has been described to me as "crunchy" which I think means All Natural and comfy. I am still wearing mascara but I like it that I'm not the only one in sneakers anymore.  

 

 Later we all frosted cupcakes for the first time with Savannah's dump find. This is the stupidest invention EVER. It's called a Cupcake Maker but as it turns out all it is capable of doing is frosting the cupcakes. You have to make cupcakes on your own the old fashioned way. They do provide a cup to make them in the microwave but that also seemed like a big waste of time. Once the cupcakes are ready you get to use the machine. You load your frosting into a gun, then shoot it into this contraption, start pumping until the the frosting squeezes out, usually missing the cupcake. It took about 15 minutes for us to assemble, load, and frost three cupcakes. That doesn't count the time it took to make cupcakes first. Once we had our fun I threw the cupcake maker (hah!) in the our trash can.  That way I didn't have to clean out all the frosting and I was saving some other family the trouble.  I didn't feel a bit guilty at the time.  All seven of us agreed that the cupcake maker was so worthless it wasn't even dump worthy. Then,  I saw them tonight on clearance at Walmart for $15 and felt a little guilt about my wastefulness.

 Then finally to cap off the Veterans Day off Work/School, Brent and I went on our weekly date. It isn't always weekly but it usually is on Thursday since that is the last day of Brent's work week. We decided to bring our soon to be 9 year old along to celebrate her birthday. She wanted steak and mashed potatoes and peas/ lima beans or edamame (her three favorite greens that she literally salivates over). I had a free coupon for an appetizer at Texas Roadhouse and that was the deciding factor . Camille got the steak and potatoes but will have to have accept an I OWE YOU on the peas. 

They placed her on the saddle and announced to the whole restaurant that CAMILLE WAS HAVING A BIRTHDAY which thrilled her to death. She didn't get a free sunday though. In a completely perfect world we would have a Red Robin in NH .

I ordered a side salad as my dinner to keep us in our date budget to offset Camille's kid's size steak.

Camille as always was a complete sweetie and felt truly spoiled to eat steak at a restaurant with Mom and Dad. Unfortunately the bar has been set now for all other birthdays.  No more getting away with a quiet dinner at home.

 After tons of begging since bringing it home, I caved and cut into a pumpkin two weeks before Halloween. But once we got the seeds out, the kids all took off and I was left to carve it on my own. Thinking that this would be one shriveled pumpkin by Halloween and what a waste that was of good pumpkin I started thinking about pie instead. So I quartered, skinned, boiled, mashed, and froze the pumpkin while no one was looking. Canned pumpkin is a $1.50 a can and for some reason someone had marked my  pumpkin down to that same price. Once the job was done I had enough from that reduced pumpkin to make five pies or lots and lots of pumpkin pancakes.  My children weren't too happy to find the pumpkin in bags in the freezer when they came back to check on how the work was coming along. And they don't like all the pumpkin pancakes I have been making instead of pies.

 Camille carved this in class to exhibit in the school pumpkin stroll. The kids have their own school pumpkin patch and grow so many pumpkins that they each have one to carve and place out in the woods for the big night when Mom and Dad come to stroll through the lighted jack-lanterned path. We have been in three grade schools now total and it is always so interesting to me how each run the show in such different ways, starting with Halloween. The first did huge Halloween bingo/carnivals, the second school- was our first school to let the kids wear their costumes during school and dismissed them at noon every Halloween so they had plenty of time for Prep (Halloween is big in Buffalo). Here it is all about the pumpkin, our state fruit. So the big event is the Family Pumpkin Stroll. First you meet in the school sugar shack. It's a little shed out in the woods where later they will make maple syrup as a class. Hot apple cider is served along with homemade pumpkin treats. Farther out in the woods is a big bonfire where families gathered to listened to a story teller after you were done strolling the woods.  We loved it! I like these kind of fall activities.

 But as far as Halloween itself. . .  it stresses me out every year.  First of all I hate carving pumpkins. Especially the really, really hard ones that break your Cutco knife. Now that isn't worth saving the price of a can. That happened on the second pumpkin we carved into because I was feeling really guilty on Halloween day that we still didn't have a jack-o-lantern.  

And I don't look forward to creating costumes every year for 5 kids. I tell myself that it's because I want to foster their own creativity by leaving it up to them.  But we all know that it's I'm just too lazy and too cheap and that's why my kids have to scrounge every Halloween.


This cowboy costume wasn't so bad. I had picked up the boots, hat and shirt over the course of a year at different thrift stores. I was pretty proud of how I had planned ahead for at least one child.
Caroline and Camille didn't get a lot of help. The thing is about Camille is if you bought or sewed her a real costume she wouldn't wear it. She has to have a hand in it. So my Camille had her heart set on being a swan lake princess. She found what she needed in the ever growing costume collection and I bought here some feathery wings after her ones she made out of hangers and white nylons weren't looking too swany, though I was quite impressed with her efforts. Caroline got this thrown on her 10 minutes before we left. I think it is her 3rd time as the orange witch. Camille did both of their face makeup. Kennon was running trying to come up with some thing after a last minute decision to trick or treat after all. Savannah was long gone to trick or treat with friends in the neighborhood dressed as the Greek Goddess Artemis, which was ALL Savannah. And I was out raking leaves with Brent while most of this was going on.  I ran in and felt bad for my lack of Halloween spirit so I threw on the Indian Costume that I have had since high school. Brent decided he was sick at this point and I left to trick or treat with three of my children.  (By the way. . . in this area trick or treating is always on the day before Halloween.  Not just when it falls on Sunday. Every year it's on the 30th.  And don't bother asking them to explain it or complaining. It's live free or die around here and they want to celebrate it a day early and that's that) 

So after all these years my kids are used to being on their own for costumes and they don't complain.  But, what if I was a cool Mom like this?
  

 These are our friends Ezra and Candace from Buffalo.  That kind of planning and creativity is both inspiring and overwhelming to me.  The Trockel's are another family that you can count on every Halloween.  I pulled these off their blogs and am going to start a picture file on creative people to get the juices flowing next Halloween.

But Hey, that's not what Halloween is about anyway. My kid's favorite part is the last thing we do. The Candy Trade.

Buffalo, Bestfriends, Bragging, Broken Buicks, Blah Blah Blah

 Camille misses Buffalo. She is my only child that hasn't moved on.  (Actually Kennon still hasn't moved on from Washington. . . but that's a different story) She misses Sara her best friend. To the point of tears on a weekly basis. A few days ago she couldn't go to sleep because she was so upset that all of her new friends here already have best friends and only play with her once in awhile at recess. Then she started talking about "Holmes" her old school and suddenly she burst out with, "No wonder they call it Homes!" Then lots of tears. Then a blessing from her Dad.

Last night, the Buffalo best friend Sara called and said that a tornado was headed to Buffalo. This was very upsetting to Camille. Before bed she prayed hard for Sarah and all of Buffalo.

Just as I assured her last night, Buffalo and Sarah survived to see another day. 

Because of lack of best friends, she has taken to running laps around the playground for recess. She was told that 7 laps around = One mile. Yesterday she ran 14 during the first recess and 14 during the second recess. She came home and bragged to her mom,  "I ran 4 miles today." 

She's really upset at me because I just won't believe it. She is adamant. Seven laps = One mile. And she ran seven . . . four times! I may have to run it myself one of these days and get this matter decided. Stay tuned.

 Caroline barely noticed the change in location. She is happy happy happy. She assures me that she has lots of friends. . .  but can never remember their names? ?  Even the best friend who lives next door. 

She is finally reading. All it took was a mother of 5 to commit to 20 minutes a day with the first grader. I was pretty embarrassed to have a 6 year old who couldn't read. In two months of school she is all caught up and I've been assured that she is right on schedule at her fall parent teacher conference.  
As Brent would say, " That's great Caroline! But time to start passing!"

I am borrowing his line from a cross country meet earlier in the season. That's exactly how he cheered on his daughter, Kennon 1/2 way through one of her races. She was a mile into it and had just gone up a big hill, when he cheered, "Good Job, Kennon!" and then a louder, "Now it's time to start Passing!"  

Don't worry Kennon. I slugged him for you. Mr. Half-miler is not qualified to cheer like that.

Caroline attends speech class at school. They are trying to erase her lateral lisp.  A couple days a week she practices sucking in her spit and saying words like "tree" instead of "pree." 

I can't believe we have to get rid of her cute little voice. If the speech therapy works. . . I guess that's good but we will all miss little Caroline and her lateral lisp.

Marcus is debating being a dentist like Dad or a fireman. I was helping him make up his mind the other day after his brief experience in a real fire truck. I reminded him that if he was a fireman he got to drive a big red truck around not an old Buick like a dentist does. 

We had borrowed his Dad's old Buick a couple days before because he wanted us to take it in for an oil change. I guess I don't understand it's quirks because we drove about a 1/4 of a mile from our house and it stopped. And wouldn't start. For about 2 minutes. When it did start again I went straight back home and abandoned the assigned errand. 

Brent was disgusted that I would quit so easily and said that you just have to take it easy on it and it runs just fine. 

Marcus and I have called it "Dad's broken car" ever since.  So when I told him about his chance to drive a big red truck I was sure that he would choose a fireman. But he is his father's son - true blue through and through and replied, " I want to be a dentist so I can drive a broken car". 


Pretty sad when you are a real dentist and you still have to drive the old broken Buick that was once your old man's. But it's made it through 10 years with this family including 3 years dubbed by his scouts as the multipurpose scouting vehicle, 3 big overheated Buick ventures pulling a a loaded trailer of family belongings during our moves, and four years of hood to school commutes in Buffalo and well. . . . He may as well drive it into it's grave, right? I think that's the plan.

The runner's tick

Kennon has been spending a lot of time running through the woods lately and as result claims the title of first family member to host a tick. According to the locals -ticks are no big deal. You strip search your kids every night and usually pull a dozen or so off every summer.  For a newcomer, it sounds like an awful task.

Every place has it's problems and deer ticks are the # 1 here. The tick took about 20 minutes to remove. There was a lot of screaming going on while the whole family crowded around watching the difficult extraction. 

I circled the spot with a marker and check it every day for any signs of a reaction. Kennon is very annoyed with me about it but I am pretty determined not to be joining the Lyme Disease Support Group meeting at our local library. 

So far no dreaded bulls eye mark has popped up and she was right back at it the next week. 

Running through the tick infested woods.

 She finished out in the top seven in her school for the season and was eligible to compete at the state meet. 

Her Dad made her a deal that if she could be in the top 4 at her school he would buy her something she's been eyeing on Ebay. The girls ahead of her were all beating her by one to two minutes and I didn't see the point of adding on pressure by throwing Ugg's into the mix.

At the state meet she finished 5th from her school with a time of 16:04 for the two mile race.  Her overall place wasn't all that impressive (81) but according to her coach NH has the biggest cross country meets in the country and there was way too much stiff competition if you ask me. She actually had her best time at the last meet -15:59.

Though she didn't qualify for new boots she did get a big congratulatory kiss from her Dad. Kennon loved it!

I am going to miss Cross Country a ton. It kicked off my first ever running program and the meets have been a great social event for a mom anxious to make friends.  I've met so many awesome parents at these events as we run around trying to catch sight of and cheer on our kids at different points along the race. This Wednesday is the very last race and I will be running in it along with other parents and faculty.  

Brent has been training. . .  but only is up to a half mile so far. He has his reasons. . . a bad knee and too much time in the office as of late. He started in a couple weeks ago with a program and is building up slow to save the knee. I don't think a two mile run is going to be possible for him right now, but who knows? He may be unable to resist.

As for me, I am sure that I won't see Kennon at all after she dusts me at the beginning of the race. Hopefully we can meet back at the finish line in around 20. And then I may be done with racing. I can't stand people passing me like I am standing still.  All I can remember from my last race is all the old men and little 8 year old boys that flew by me. Running isn't supposed to be depressing. I work best alone.

 Yesterday Marcus and I went on a run. I in my sweats and him in his finest in search of the perfect photo spot -bright red leaves and a water view. I found it above the Oyster River at the home and memorial spot of Revolutionary war General John Sullivan.

 Marcus wouldn''t put this stick down and hold still for the camera, though. I was mad at him and his stick. 

Turns out the stick picture was the best one of all.

 

Unless you like his big cheesy picture face. He's holding the stick behind his back.  

I need to keep the camera hopping the next couple weeks. Yay! New England in the Fall! I am living the dream.  

Wait till the bitter NE winter hits and hear this girl change her tune.

A taste of his own medicine

I gave a 20 minute talk in church on Sunday. Kennon also spoke. After church, while fixing lunch Brent asked if I noticed Kennon saying, "Umm" a lot. I told him I noticed a couple umms.. Then he said that she said umm quite a few times, but not near as many times as her mother did.


"Are you serious? I don't remember saying umm at all".  I was pretty mortified to hear this since this was my new ward debut.

"Yeah, I was counting for a while, but finally gave up once I was up to 100. I tried mouthing, "Umm" to you but you didn't ever notice.  I wasn't going to say anything. . .  but then I thought Hey, maybe you might want to know".

No, I don't think I wanted to know that actually.  I was pretty mad that he had brought it up at all.

 I got him back a couple days later. I didn't plan it. It just happened. The dentist showed up for Kennon's cross country meet with stuff in his teeth. We were talking to other parents when I noticed and never found a chance to break in and tell him.


  He told me last night that he ran out and needed another tub of Cocoa Almonds from Sam's club.  That and an apple usually constitute lunch. He's a bit addicted to them right now. I said, "Did you finish them off on the way to Kennon's meet?" 


"Yeah. . .  how did you know?"


"Because you had like 100 nuts stuck in your teeth. I wasn't going to say anything since I didn't get a chance to tell you at the time. But I thought, Hey, maybe you might want to know".  ( Actually I just said "nuts" But I wanted to say 100)

 Kennon keeps getting faster. She finished 9th in her latest meet. I am so glad I literally drug her to her first practice.

I went on a two mile run with her yesterday afternoon. Kennon stayed a little ahead of me the whole way. Only by running in circles every couple minutes so I could catch up. Arriving at home I was completely dead after running my hardest to keep her in my sights the entire way. She wasn't even breathing hard. It stinks because I've been running pretty much every day to get to the point I am now. Two miles in a little under 20 minutes. And she runs three times a week for a couple months and she is in super shape. 

I am going to stick to solo runs. All I could think about while running with Kennon is how out of shape I am. No fun.