a quick update from the working mother

Well I haven't been fired yet, but that is hardly a consolation under the circumstances. I have been called "Kayla" several times which is a new experience for me, having my husband mix me up with someone else. Honestly, it has to be a compliment though if I am assimilating myself so well that he thinks his real assistant is back. After a week of making excuses for myself to patients, because "I am just his wife" I decided I can't take it anymore and for now on that fact is a secret. Becoming somewhat professional hasn't been easy for me. So I just keep my mouth shut as much as possible. 



And to add to my great week, Brent threw in a guys trip last weekend with some old dental school buds. Rich and Jonas drove up from North Carolina and Dave flew in from Long Island. They all rode together to a RAM dental clinic in Knoxville, TN where they spent the weekend providing free dental services. Brent was really looking forward to the trip. He needed more practice pulling teeth and there were plenty teeth for the pulling at this event. 

He also really liked the company. I called him sometime during the weekend while they were en route in Richard's car. We had just spoke for a brief moment when I heard him interrupt my story to ask Richard something. He didn't ask me to wait, he just started up a new conversation with Richard in the front seat. I patiently waited a minute or so thinking it must be pertinent to our conversation, but after 3 or 4 minutes decided it wasn't and he clearly didn't even remember that he had been speaking to me. I started hollering "HELLLLOOO" into the phone, but wasn't able to be heard. Since he had forgotten to hang up on me I eavesdropped for awhile, but got bored quickly and decided I would make him pay later.  I would NEVER do this to Brent. But it didn't surprise me in the least.


Well that is all I have time for tonight. I just didn't want to take a 6 week break from the blog even though I really don't have any of the time I used to. It's pretty crazy around here every morning and then again every night. I still can't believe that I am gone from the time the kids leave on the bus until after they come home and somehow we are still alive and not drowning in our own filth around here. Marcus loves his "daycare" and every day is mad when I show up to get him after 8 hours. The highlights are PBS (we don't have TV at home) a dog named Cleo, a nameless cat and a turtle. All of which we don't have at home either so really he is thrilled with his new life and though I am relieved that the babysitting situation is working out so well I am puzzled that I was replaced so easily by lesser things such as these. 


I love working with Brent yet have a hard time with the fact that we really don't have the chance to talk AT ALL day even though I am sitting RIGHT next to him. 


Still snowing here. It's beautiful. I slid off the road once last week and it was a good reminder for me. Just bounced off a nice big snowbank after turning a 180. I was feeling way too confident up here in NH. Since then I have been driving with great care and don't think I will need any more warnings, so thank you very much for that wake up call. I am not a good driver.

SNOW, SNOW, SNOW

So if you follow the national weather, you know that the Northeast is about to be slammed again. And if you follow the blog you know how happy we are about that! Despite the fact it is a ton of work to shovel out and makes everyone cancel their dental appointments. But there is something very exciting and about hearing that the snow is coming and then being buried in it. We had about two feet on the ground this morning leftover from last week's storm. It started again today and will amount to wicked porportions by tomorrow. One time today I heard up to 50 INCHES! So that should be plenty exciting!  The kids have already had 4 snow days this year, though and they already don't get out of school to the end of June. We are going to be lucky to get summer break before the 4th of July, the way things are going.

I am settling into my new busy schedule as Brent's cute new assistant, but that may slow down now the snow is falling. I went in this morning for my second day but decided that there were too many cancellations on his schedule to qualify for my assistance, so I picked Marcus back up and we are home now back to our old wonderful routine for the rest of the day. The only thing on my schedule now is snow blowing.

Brent and I went back and forth all fall about getting a snow blower. He was certain that it was a necessity with our large driveway and wanted to spend $500 plus on one he saw on Craigslist. But I usually take care of the snow removal since I'm home all day and I didn't agree. I hate operating machinery and told him I would never use it, but planned on shoveling by hand. It had been great exercise in our little Buffalo driveway. Brent bought one anyway and tried to get me out to the garage for an operating lesson a couple times. I never consented to the instruction and continued to ignore it for the first couple small snowfalls, and just made quick passes with my shovel and it only took me about an hour.  

But then we had our first real storm. I went out and shoveled for about 15 min and was ready to die. Yes, this was going to be great exercise for me this winter but did I really want to do nothing but shovel all day because that was exactly how long it was going to take me to clear this driveway?  Just As Brent told me it would.  But I hate machinery so I just kept shoveling for another 15 minutes. Finally I went in and called Brent. I admitted that I had been totally naive, and did he have time to talk me through starting up this snow blower?

Luckily, running it turns out to be a breeze, though its a way snowier job than shoveling. You come in covered in white head and toe and shivering rather than hot and sweaty from shoveling. But I am happy to get over my hangups and save my self way too much exercise.

I have been letting a few blog posts pile up here and suddenly I feel this urgency to get them all down, before I have ZERO time to do so. I don't have time to edit or write fancy so it may come across a bit jumbled.


Here's post # ONE
As of tomorrow I will be a working mother. For a short six weeks, while Brent's assistant takes her maternity leave, but right now those weeks seem like an eternity. I am so excited to have my chance to be with my husband. . . All Day Long. .. Right By His Side. . and also become more involved with the business. BUT. 

At the same time I just keep thinking of my two year old son who I won't be with all day long and it makes me want to cry. We have been so spoiled, Marcus and I. I have always been a spoiled stay at home mom.  But both Brent and I feel like this is a good time for me to learn the workings of the office so I can be be capable of filling in for someone who is sick, or having babies I guess. Last week his assistant went home sick unexpectedly. I thought maybe this was it, she was going into labor. We still hadn't worked out a replacement and Brent was a bit panicky. I found a sitter for Marcus and came in for the day. Brent introduced me like he usually does if I am in the office while he is seeing a patient, as his "cleaning lady". I had no prior experience and so I had a crash course in dental assisting in the form of on the job training. Obviously, I was terrible and never had anything ready when he needed, nor could I even identify the instrument that he needed in time to reach for it before he ended up deciding he'd do it himself. But he was still happy to have someone by his side, if no other reason than to have the "cleaning lady" there full time I guess. He told one patient I was his wife and apologized for my clumsiness, saying "Well, she's better than nothing." Which he sincerely meant as a compliment but as you can imagine the other two people in the room didn't see it that way.
Just now I finally hired a babysitter though and am jumping in making a commitment to give this a go. I hope the Casper's survive the next six weeks. I can't even imagine what a 32 hour work week is going to do to my perfect laundry record. Things don't stack up in my laundry room. It is one of my talents.


POST #2 Let's move on to Marcus. Speaking of laundry he comes to mind. The last time we stayed in a hotel, I lost our bag of laundry. I had looked everywhere, probably spent an accumulative hour looking for a bag of socks and panties and finally gave up and went to the car leaving Brent for the final look around. He's much more thorough. He found the laundry. It was in the freezer. I never would've thought to check in there.
The great thing is the more mischievous he is the more I just love him to death. Even though I am cursing while I clean up his mess I am laughing thinking, "Wow, I really do have a son now don't I?" The other day he was completely black head to toe. I followed the soot back to our upstairs fireplace. The one we've only lit once since moving here because Brent doesn't believe in fireplaces unless it's a wood stove because the other kind "don't put out heat, just suck it up. He made an exception for Christmas Eve and so it was full of ash. Marcus had climbed in apparently. And brought his books and his stuffed animals. The good thing about my son is that he learned his lesson. After seeing a black elephant and dirty books he will never have a playhouse in the fireplace again. I am sure that he will come up with something else equal though. See this is why I love boys. Girls don't climb in fireplaces.


POST #3 Caroline wears a snowsuit to school everyday. It's one of those bib ones that has gone through four kids. She looks like enormous in it. It's hideous. But she has to wear a snowsuit for everyone of the three recesses a day so she just puts it on in the morning and takes it off at night. I hardly even have time to wash it so it also usually filthy. You don't know how hard it is to send her off everyday in that. I guess I need to stop buying her clothes and just get her a wardrobe of snowsuits.
Caroline also sleeps walk. I am a very light sleeper. Mother's have to be. Every night lately I wake up to the sound of running down the hall. I try to ignore it for awhile but it sounds so frantic so I get up and sure enough there is Caroline racing back and down the hall around the kitchen, into the living room. Her eyes are always wide open and she looks so confused. I have tried repeatedly to try to get her to say something to me but she is clearly not awake.  She can't respond in anyway. She always needs to go to the bathroom and it's a mad dash to get her into there and seated before she let's loose. After that I put her back into bed. She remembers nothing in the morning. I would be scared to leave her at someones house over night. Who knows where she might end up if her mother didn't always wake up and bring her back to bed. Caroline said the cutest thing to Marcus today after I put his new church sport coat on. He was wearing a white shirt and tie. . . and a jacket for the first time and Caroline looked at him and said, "Marcus you look like the littlest man I have ever seen."


 POST# 3 This is left over from our trip to Buffalo. Camille was the happiest one to go, because she has never forgotten about the best friend she left behind. So we dropped her off early the first morning so she could stay while we went to the funeral. Camille and I stood shivering outside her door in deep snow. Camille of course was not wearing a coat or boots. She would rather be cold than change a perfect outfit. When Sara opened up Camille burst out with a scream and grabbed her friend to give her a hug which surprisingly ended up in a kiss. Camille was so happy she momentarily lost her senses and gave her a kiss. She suddenly jumped back embarrassed and said,"I can't believe I just kissed you." Neither could her sisters who saw the kiss from the car. But that is so Camille. She is a lover and hugger and even a kisser. So watch out best friends!


POST #4 Now Savannah is hard to write about because she would prefer that no one says anything about her at all and often edits out the stuff I do say about her. I think she would let me tell you all that she had adjusted 100% to her new life/new school. She spends most of her time now downloading songs and blasting them from our computer, unfortunately teaching Marcus all the wrong kinds of music. Nothing bad mind you but lets just say he knows all the words to the gummy bear song and loves to preform it for anyone who asks complete with as he would call it, "the bum part". Just look up gummy bear song on you tube and you can see what I am talking about. Now that's not Savannah's favorite song though. She just plays that because Marcus likes it so much. He also knows her favorites and sings verses like, "daisy dukes, bikinis on top" though that song has been banned in our house for months. A two year old never forgets.


POST #5 Kennon Is officially one week away from being a teenager. Last night she uttered some infamous words that we will haunt her with for the rest of her life. We were in the car on the way to Chuck E Cheese. We only go once every couple years and decided that she also would be going along only because it was a family thing and she needed to get out of her room and quit hiding out. Who knows what we were discussing but it might've been, about how thrilled she was to spend the next two hours with us at Chuck E Cheese of all places. So she said, and this wasn't delivered with sarcasm, it was for real, "Don't you guys know by now - I don't like my family."
It was pretty silent after that. We were all feeling like we had completely failed and that things couldn't be much worse, but a couple hours later we were all joking about it and decided for her that she truly can't help liking us after all. I think it's just really hard to be the first one to turn 13 in the house. I hear things get better about 15 and I am really counting on that.




And Finally. . . Today we all had a surprise. Brent and I had an early morning interview with a member of the stake presidency. As a Mormon this is never a welcome request. It's never to make your life easier. It's always about asking you to do more, and grow more and yes definitely receive blessings but aren't we all just happy coasting along while we can? But among mormons we all have to take a turn. No one gets paid and everyone needs a break so we knew we couldn't escape responsibility forever.  So we have been stewing over this future interview for the last two weeks knowing that one of the "Brents" was moving out of our bishopric. We have Bishop Brent and 2nd counselor Brent. Well, sure enough the bishop was intent on keeping it with the Brents and now My Brent is his new 2nd counselor. Did you follow that? 

It actually was a pretty confusing sustaining. From the pulpit the stake presidency member asked if we would all like to sustain Brent W. CARTER as second counselor to which the congregation all hesitantly raised their hands of approval all wondering who in the heck this Br. Carter was. Then later he tried to fix his error but this time Brent was sustained as BRUCE W. Casper. Our kids didn't even notice the sustaining because as typical they weren't tuned into the meeting and didn't hear anyone or anything that would pull them out of their own little worlds and it wasn't until their Dad left our row to join the bishopric up on the stand that all the kids starting hollering, "Where's Dad going? What just happened?"
Brent would've loved to put this off for the rest of his life but it looks like he finally has to grow up and be in a bishopric. I am proud of him that he is willing to serve and that we are here and able to. I will miss him on Sundays but then at least I won't be just be running around wondering what the heck my husband is doing while I get everyone ready and out the door. Maybe it's for the best.

Hoping to adopt

Several months ago I posted my first ever button on my blog. It's right there on the left.

 

Rachel and Ryan are the best of the best. I met Rachel four years ago in Buffalo when they moved there for her husband to attend dental school. I was serving as the president of our ward relief society, which is a service organization of women in our church. She immediately came in and made a huge difference. Visiting housebound women and then calling me to tell me how they were doing. Picking up a Deborah every Sunday who had suffered a stroke and couldn't drive but was recently baptized and wanted to be at church. She was every president's dream visiting teacher (yeah, it's a mormon word. It means she drives around visiting and teaching assigned women in their home on a monthly basis.) She became these women's friend. 

She also quickly became mine and was always the one teaching me. One thing I remember about her is she is always telling me she loves my big crazy family and wants to have one just like it someday.

Rachel is a high school English teacher and Ryan is a few months shy of being a real dentist. They are in love. They have fun together everyday, despite the fact that they have a deep sorrow as they continue to wait to become parents. But together they are a rock. Full of patience and faith that someday they will be parents. They are just waiting and waiting for someone to choose them. I would like to vouch for these people and their worthiness to raise awesome children.  If you know of anyone who is looking for adoptive parents to provide a fun. . . loving. . .  exciting. . . educational. . .  and faith filled home for their child - Please tell them about Rachel and Ryan. These people need to be parenting! Read their blog and I know you will agree.    The blog:   fyi on Rach and Ry

                         To view their adoption profile go Here.   

                                            Spread the word.

Visiting our past

We spent about 36 hours in Buffalo over the weekend for a short vacation. And we had more fun than we have in a lifetime back here in New England. It was perfect! Exactly like I remember. Cold. Blowing Snow. Gray skies. Cop car in front of our old place.


Good old Richard lives next door. He was out firing up his old rusty blue van (the one that I crossed my fingers wouldn't be there every time we showed the house.) He barely recognized us through the snow. He now has one tooth left on the top of his mouth. He told us that he was getting them all out the next month. They were going to fix them but it would cost him $7,000. But as he pointed out, "I can buy a new car with that!" And I guess in order priority his teeth are very last on the list.


The cops were out talking to the new owner of our home. Someone threw a cinder block through her car window the night before and they were out checking out the damage and filing a report.  We thought it would be better not to say hi, so we snapped a quick picture and drove on out of there. 

Now I am not glorying here too much in any one's pain and anguish. It's just that. . . Could it be any more Buffalo than that? At least the Buffalo we remember. And the thing is those are the fondest memories in the world.  


We were in town not only to see the old place, but to attend the memorial service of Susan Dayton who lost her life to cancer at 59. She and her husband were one of the first people to welcome us to Buffalo and tell us how much we were going to love it there. 

I have been sitting here about 20 minutes now writing and rewriting something short that I could say about her and all that she did. Not just all of her positions of leadership and she had many. But also all that she did for me and my family and all that she taught me personally. She was my stake relief society president and in the midst of her cancer she trained me to serve the women of Buffalo when I was called as president of our ward organization of women. And she and her husband treated us like we were family. We will never forget the Easter Sunday we had in their home and how fun the Easter Egg game was. We came home with over a hundred dollars hidden in our eggs. They gave us their dishwasher and countertops for our Buffalo home. She always had time for me, though she probably was one of the busiest women in all of Buffalo.  

I keep editing this because it is just too long. I want to write all the things I learned about her life at the memorial service. I had no idea how involved she was in helping women all over the world.  But I would have to write way more than most of you want to read. So I will just say that she was an angel to the world and her life abounded in good works. I have learned so much from my association with her, and now from the tragic end to her life. I know that there are many questions why someone like her has to die so young. You can tell that I am getting old, because 59 seriously sounds so young. She still had so much to give and her death leaves such a void in so many lives. 

But I am so moved by what she did in her short life. None of us know the length of our days. This is why it is so important to make them count through love and service. Knowing Susan and now having to say goodbye to her have touched me deeply and I hope I can remember the example of her full life and not waste my own. I am so sorry for her family and especially her wonderful husband. That's the problem of being so great. How can they now go on with out her? We will be praying for them. 


So despite the weather, the funeral, and of course the reminder of our sketchy old neighborhood we were so glad we decided to spend our weekend traveling 9 hours back to Buffalo. We had such a wonderful time catching up with so many people. I did feel bad about disrupting the Buffalo ward. We had planned to leave right after Sacrament meeting and skip the classes because the road ahead was snowy and long, but we ended up spending over an hour talking in the gym and making many others skip class instead. I was amazed that good old Br. Benson didn't send us to class like he was famous for.  Next time we need to just throw ourselves a party I guess. But it was really like coming back home. I am so grateful to have known the people living in Buffalo. Maybe someday we will feel like that about this new area. 

But first I need to get more involved. Thank you Susan for teaching me that.

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?

Finishing up Christmas

 Christmas Morning this year was like no other before at our house. Our living room was littered with train sets, race tracks, legos, barns and animals- It was transformed into a Marcus dream room. The two contributing factors to this were:

1. We have a 2 year old BOY and for the first time I understand why parents buy so many toys for their children. Boys really do play with their toys. My girls have never spent more than 5 minutes with a toy before they go back to reading, dancing or putting on plays. But Marcus spends hours building and creating and wants his toys always out and ready for action. 

2. I don't BUY our toys. We have a Jackpot (The Dump)  5 minutes away that I shopped at way too often in the last couple weeks before Christmas. It is hard to limit Christmas when your neighbors are limitless in what they are willing to give away.

 Brent's Mother always has something new and exciting and Completely Homemade for Christmas. I think she definitely has way too much time on her hands and she is working hard to cross everything off her list. I talked to her a couple weeks ago and she is already working away on her gift for next year.

This year we received a video of a collection of her posterity singing ALL of her favorite tunes she remembered from her childhood. About 7 years ago she started this project physically forcing many of us to practice songs with our individual families and send her videos. She also planned several family parties to finish the task that we were all dragging our feet on. Song by song we took turns coming into the living room to perform at Momma Jo's request. Some even were taught actions, asked to put on wigs, and Brent and his four brothers dawned bow ties and sang several quartets. No one was spared. No protesting that you weren't a singer was going to work. We all performed our solos, duets, trio's and quartet. 

We watched the completed video during our Christmas Breakfast and laughed ourselves silly. Then Brent and his daughters read a collection of stories and sayings that she also sent along with the video. Someone please tell Grandma to check the above photo out so she can enjoy seeing the reaction to her efforts. It wasn't staged. They truly love your stories. Thanks so much Mamma Jo. You inspire us all and we will treasure your books, videos and stories, for a lifetime.

 The best Christmas present for our children arrived two days late. Sunday night a blizzard hit and although not nearly as bad as feared, it left us with plenty of snow for our big hill in our yard. . . that dumps out in the street below our house. That is if you are lucky and miss the 4 huge boulders you have to dodge right before you slide into oncoming traffic. Alainna and Stephen were quite shocked that we send our kids out to sled among boulders and cars. . . but eventually they stopped being so stuffy and joined in. 

Merry, Merry Christmas to you all.   

And no one tell Caroline which workshop Santa dropped by to pick up her Christmas doll.

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.