Children's Museum - Epic Play Time

On an early release day not too long ago, I suggested to the kids that we go down to the Museum Center.  The kids are getting older so access to the museum is less important, except that Tank is still only 8 and he eats it up every time, even if Miciah is sometimes whiny about being "forced" to go.

So we arrived and the kids collectively decided to go down to the ball area.  It's an enclosed section where there are hundreds of those balls, like what you'd jump into in a ball pit.  You can launch the balls against targets, put them up tubes where they are sucked away, and catch the balls as they fall out of a large bin overhead.  The kids haven't played in this area for, I dunno, a few years.

At first Miciah wasn't thrilled.  She decided she was going to sit by me and read a book.  Within minutes, though, she was right in there with them.  I smiled and read my book.

Now, the great thing about going to the museum in the afternoon is that there aren't many other people there.  So you get the run of the place.  In the ball area were my three kids and maybe four other children, all much younger: say, one and a half to three years old.  Those little ones were playing in the area the way I remember my own kids playing years back.  The standard way.  What were my kids doing now?  Sending each other on missions to collect different colored balls.  First all the blue ones.  Then the green ones, and so on.  They did timed missions, and area specific missions.  I was amused.

And then, some time later, I looked around and realized that the balls were gone.  In all my years of going to the museum, I have never seen the floor devoid of balls.  I suddenly realized that these missions had all ended with taking these bags full of balls and dumping them into a chute where they were not accessible to the other children.  The chute is connected to a treadmill of sorts, where as you walk, a ball is sent over to the overhead bin, one at a (very slow) time.  Normally the overhead bin empties every few minutes, but apparently the mechanism that releases the balls is not connected to the chute, so the balls just kept accumulating.

Random picture I found on-line of the balls falling from the chute, like they're supposed to do!

I watched these small children look longingly at the balls stuck out of reach in the chute and bin.  I called to my kids, "Hey, guys!  Give some balls to the little kids."  Miciah gave out a bag or two, in a generous gesture.  Elijah, however, was not happy to give up some of his hard-earned balls.  He was on a mission and the little kids were screwing it up!  At one point the bin was opened by a museum worker with a stick, and the little kids danced and cheered.  Elijah is fast, though, and within a few minutes, all of those balls were snatched up, too!

Another random kid with a bag of balls.  Notice all the balls on the floor.  Now imagine all those balls NOT on the floor.

A two-year-old boy ran across the play area, a single ball in his hands stretched high over his head, his face lit-up with excitement.  The littler kids walked around looking and were so excited to find one lurking in the corner that Elijah had somehow missed.

Two parents standing next to me realized what was going on.  One said, "I guess those kids collected all the balls."  I rolled my eyes and said, "Yeah, those are my kids.  Sorry about that."  The other parent didn't look so amused, since he was now aware that his daughter had nothing to play with.  But parent number one was nice.  "They must have worked really hard collecting them all."  "Yeah."  What else do you say?

The kids played there for a full 2 hours, and by the end, the two dads were inside the ball area, opening up, with their hands, the now very full overhead bin and watching the balls pour down on their kids.  Elijah, I am certain, was watching all his hard work get ruined as the little kids played happily.

On the way home the kids talked about this epic play time.  As they talked they discovered the economic principle of scarcity.  "It was like the balls were money," and,  "We could have gotten rich if we charged for those balls."  Though I did say, "Yeah, but how much can a two-year-old pay you?" and, "Also, those weren't actually your balls.  So I'm pretty sure you can't sell them."  Miciah congratulated herself on being so generous with the little kids, giving them bags full of balls and watching their eyes light up, and I reminded her that her "generosity" was only possible because she had first been really stingy.  "Oh.  That's true."  But in the end it didn't matter.  In their minds, the play session had been a triumph!

And while I didn't take a picture, the mental image of the ball area floor being completely clean will stick in my mind forever.  Along with the little boy running around, eyes agleam, with a single ball in his hands.

Cincinnati Love

Rob and I have happily embraced Cincinnati as our Home.  Up until this last year, we've lived here because we've needed to.  We have finally, though, decided to live here - in this city, in this house - just because we want to.  It's been a wonderful feeling, to finally claim Cincinnati as home and declare ourselves locals.

You might remember that about this time last year we decided to stick around Cincinnati.  Well, finally our hearts feel at home, too.  Something about making the decision opened our eyes to all the cool things we have going for us right here and right now.  I have connections to the local interpreting community, particularly Cincinnati State, where I envision staying for years (and maybe teaching?  Scary thought).  We have the local nursery where we buy our plants and they know us by sight.  I have a soccer team that I play with and also do things socially with.  We have a church congregation full of people who know and love us.  We have local universities, cultural events, parks, theater, farmer's markets.  So many things to do and love!

On top of that, we're starting to get to know our city better.  It's our first real life style upgrade that involves DOING something.  (I mean, we bought some cars and upgraded our home, but that's not something you do.)  We bought season tickets to a theater here.  We're attending some ballets this year.  We went on a historic tour of Over the Rhine (a cool, trendy spot really close to downtown).  We're starting to check out local restaurants.  It's our attempt to really experience our city.

And we're loving it.  For so many years we just lived here because it's where we already were.  And we liked it well enough.  But now we're embracing our Cincinnati-ness.  And it feels great.

Though I still can barely stand it when I hear myself say that Cincinnati 'o' sound.  Grrr.

Life as of late, a brief history

We are having a really good time hanging out at home.  Life hasn't felt "normal" for a while, with trips to take and then recover from and life-altering decisions to discuss (and then recover from), so it's nice to just have our day-to-day schedule.

That daily schedule includes travel for Rob, and it's nice to report that the kids are WAY better at it now than they were a year ago.  In fact, we're all much better at it.  We are a seasoned work travel family!  Not to say that every day goes perfectly, cause that's laughable, but we've definitely found our groove.

The boys are finishing up their soccer season this week.  They both had a great time and have wholeheartedly abandoned gymnastics for soccer.  This is a shame because gymnastics was at one location once a week, whereas soccer is at least 4 locations 4 times a week.  While it's been neat to see them have fun and improve, it's always a little exhausting.  We're looking forward to how boring our life will seem next week.

Miciah has found lots of ways to participate in life.  She is involved in events at the local library still.  She's doing Girls on the Run and gearing up for her 5K on November 15th.  She also just tried out for some writing group at school.  ...  Pretty much, Miciah tells us what she's doing with her life and we try to make sure she can get there and back.

Teancom decided to run for Student Council at school, and he won his class's election slot.  He's really excited about it and takes it pretty seriously.  We're excited because it's something that requires him to be in front of quite a few people and do some public speaking.  Honestly, when he came home and said he wanted to do it, I was like, "Umm, do you know that you make videos of yourself and have to speak on morning announcements and stuff?"  That's what a great mom I am.  But Tank just said he knew what it would take and he wanted to do it.  ROCK ON.

I'm interpreting at Cincinnati State a lot more this semester than previously, and I'm LOVING the college interpreting environment.  I get to encourage ITP students, I can sign all I want, and my schedule is more predictable.  I'm also interpreting more during the day, so I'm home more evenings, and that feels awesome, too.  ...  To be clear, I'm not actually doing more interpreting than previously, I've just switched where my emphasis is.  Before Cincinnati State was my secondary employer, and now most of my hours are spent there.

Our house is also feeling much more settled.  Nothing is under construction and no one is visiting from out of town (though if you want to come, you are welcome!).  We've tackled a few organization / deep cleaning projects that have been on hold for a year now, and it feels so much nicer to have, for instance, our food storage totally back in order.  Maybe that sounds silly, but trust me, it feels great.

And that's kinda what life is like around here these days.  It's a beautiful thing, I think, to have a simple life.

The Path - an analogy

Rob and I are on the last day of our trip to Marquette, Michigan in the beautiful Upper Peninsula.  I seriously want to live here someday.  Not today.  But someday.  

While I've been here I've used some of the time to write up an analogy about my spiritual journey.  Rob and I have had many, many discussions about my new direction.  I have found it difficult to explain the paradigm shift that I've experienced, but while I was talking to him an analogy popped into my mind and so I wrote it out and expanded it, because I feel like it explains things fairly well.  It's an exploration of how I got from where I used to be to where I currently am. 

So, if you'd like, you can read the somewhat long analogy about my journey.  Even if you don't find it useful, know that it's been immensely beneficial to me to put it down in words.

The Path

I imagine myself driving in a car, on the way to Heaven. It's a far-off place, but it's worth the drive. I've heard how amazing it is, and I've felt a peace inside my heart that tells me that this is true. In Heaven, I get the things that I want, and what have I lost? Not much. I left the city of Natural Man long ago, happy to leave behind the darkness and confusion. If I have chosen a road that demands clean living, it is only because I don't think living otherwise will make me happier. Besides, those other roads were headed in the wrong direction.

This road trip, of course, is well-planned out. I know where to stop and when. I know to be careful about alternate courses that lead away from where I want to go. I have a map that's easy to follow. I am set. And gratefully so! Some people aren't lucky enough to have a map.

On top of that, God isn't silent here. He has installed a GPS device in my car and it tells me what I need to do when. He also updates me via radio on any necessary changes of course or dangers ahead. A classical music radio station broadcasts these messages, told to me by an inspired reporter. I am reassured, knowing that even if it seems at times that the GPS and the radio announcements conflict, it's only because I haven't listened well enough. With the right combination of consulting the map, fine tuning my radio signal, re-playing the GPS instructions, and prayer, I'll realize what I need to do.

I am careful on this trip. I have a checklist to follow to help me have a smooth trip. I know that even if some of these things seem difficult or time-consuming, it's the only way, or at least it's the best way to ensure reaching my final destination. I have daily, weekly, and monthly tasks that keep me moving along. I also have people who care for me so much that they call and help remind me to do each of those tasks. I'm grateful to have so many people on my team.

All-in-all, I am grateful to be on this roadway, heading towards Heaven. Even if it's hard sometimes, I know I wouldn't be happy with an easier path. I know too much to head in a different direction.

But then problems start arising. I'm listening to God's radio station, enjoying the soothing music, and I hear an announcement that conflicts with my GPS device. For the first time in my life, even after many hours of trying, I can't reconcile the two. I feel deeply uncomfortable, but I decide to go ahead and follow the directions given on the radio. After all, the radio station has never lead me astray before. I take a deep breath and I do it. Immediately, I realize that this was a mistake. I know, in my gut, that my GPS device was right all along. I keep driving, but I vow to never do that again. Next time there is no next time; I know what I will do.

Now there are billboards that have messages on them about why it's important to re-calibrate our GPS devises if they are malfunctioning. At first I see these billboards only once in a while, but pretty soon it seems like every single bill board is saying the same thing! And the classical music station is issuing warnings after every single song. I am confused by all of this, but it's okay because I'm still headed towards Heaven. It'll be worth it in the end, and then God can explain what it was all about anyway. That thought comforts me.

Soon after the billboards popped up, protesters start lining the streets. They're holding signs that say some pretty awful things about people who aren't following the inspired reporter closely enough. They're talking about me, I guess, but I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong. I call friends and family and get advice from them. “Ignore the protestors. They're not worth your time.” I decide that my loved ones are right. I keep driving, but I can't help but notice that the protestors' numbers are increasing and, when I choose to look, the signs are getting more pointed. “IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT THE INSPIRED REPORTER HAS TO SAY, GET OFF THE ROAD.” and “GOD'S MESSAGE NEVER CHANGES. IF YOU DISAGREE WITH HIS RADIO STATION, YOUR GPS IS BROKEN.” and “IF YOU DON'T AGREE WITH US, WE DON'T WANT YOU ON OUR ROAD.”

One day, there's an announcement on God's radio station that I can't ignore. A car that was traveling on the road, following their GPS, was forced to get off. I know this has happened before, because the road to Heaven isn't easy and occasionally there are people who need re-routed. But this particular case is personal because my GPS is leading me in similar directions. I don't know what to do.

Everyday is confusing now. More and more I feel that my GPS and the classical music station are telling me to go in different directions. I can't turn off my GPS device because I vowed never to ignore it again. But I don't want to ignore the radio station, either, because that's not what good people do, and I'm a good person. I'm watching people exit the road to Heaven for a road that follows their GPS. There are a lot of them, it seems. Many more than before. Some of them are strangers, but some of them are people that I love and adore. What am I supposed to do?

I'm sending out distress calls to my loved ones. “Help me resolve this!” I plead. I'm encouraged to be patient, to pray harder, to study the map more closely, and to have faith that my GPS and the radio station will come back in line again. But I can't listen to it all any more. Everything is noise to me now: the protesters are screaming; the billboards are inches apart, all saying the same thing; and the radio station doesn't even play music any more, just warnings back to back to back. It all mashes together and swirls around my head, making me dizzy. I pull over and just sit there, trying to decide what to do. I turn off the radio, and I sit in silence. I sit there for a long time.

I finally come to some stark conclusions. One, I can no longer make this work. I've tried and I've failed. Two, I don't know how things will all work out, but I know I need to try something else. I can't make it to Heaven on this road. Maybe I'm giving up, maybe I'm too weak, maybe a million things, but I'm throwing in the towel. I don't want to take a different road, because I know too much to fully leave the road to Heaven. So I just sit there on the side of the road. I am done moving forward, trying to reconcile it all. I take my map and fold it up neatly. I take my checklist and turn it over. I lovingly touch the radio dial, but I don't turn it back on. I pine for easier times when the path seemed clear. But while I'm not sure what the future will look like, I know that the conflict needs to be over one way or another. So I take care of it. It's over.

I wonder what things will look like now. I still want to be on the road, but I want silence. A space to figure things out. I don't know how to do this. The conflict is over, but what does the resolution look like? These thoughts keep me company as I drift off to sleep.

When I awake I am shocked to find that everything is gone. There is no road, no protestors, no car, no GPS. On top of that, there is no landscape. There is nothing. All is blackness, a void, stretching on and on into forever. I don't know what place this is or how I got here. I don't even know what to call this space. But I am not afraid. This is a sacred space. I can feel it.

Even though I don't know anything about what this space is, I am comforted to be here. This void, this expansive void, is the most amazing place I've ever seen. It's not an empty space, like you imagine a void would be. On the contrary, it is filled to overflowing with peace and hope and truth. I don't know how this is possible. I don't know anything because this isn't a space I was prepared to find. The only thing I know is that I don't ever want to leave.

There is no longer a need to think about how to resolve any conflicts related to the road. There is no road here. There aren't even any conflicts here. My loved ones continue to give me advice on how to resolve issues or how to better navigate the road, but I now have a hard time understanding what they are telling me. The longer I stay in the void, the less I have a desire to re-find any road. The road will lead me to Heaven? Oh. That sounds nice. But have you seen this place? This place. It is already heaven. I can't explain it. It just is.

And that is the first understanding I have of this place, about what it is: It just is. It leads me quickly to several truths. First, I am. I exist. That's a good place to start. Second, I am a good person. I haven't lost the road, I have found a beautiful new place. This new place offers truth in a different way, a way that is hard to explain because it is new to me and I don't have words for it. But I still have access to truth and love and peace, and that means I'm still a good person. And lastly, God exists.

This last truth – God exists – is the most powerful, pervasive message of this new space I've found. All around me, and stretching into infinity, is God. God is love and hope and peace. So far I know that God is these things, and I don't know anything else. Is God in human form, with gender and a body and the ability to have a Son? No clue. Are we God's children? Again, I don't know. And there is no real push to know. This place offers truth – it's there, so obviously there – but suddenly those other things that I used to consider truths are insignificant. This place offers truth of a different sort. Everything else seems like an unnecessary detail.

This isn't a place where truth needs to be sought, because truth is already here. It just is. Running around looking for truth isn't necessary. If I stand right here, I will feel it. It is all around me. I feel it pressing against my skin and from there stretching into eternity. I can't define it. I just know it is. I can look inside myself and find truth, too. I am connected to it. I can close my eyes, listen to the beating of my heart, and I know my heart beats truth. We are all connected to it. God is around us and in us and through us. It's the most beautiful thought I've ever pinned down.

It is hard, in this space, to remember what I used to know. The language is all still there; I can recite from memory all the truths I used to claim as mine. But they no longer feel like my truths. I speak of those things as belonging to someone else. Slowly, and quite naturally, I think, the old truths are fading. I understand why this would alarm people, but I don't feel alarmed. The old truths seem unnecessarily complex. The new truths are simple and powerful. I could happily live my whole life in this comparatively bare space.

And maybe I might. I don't know. That's the beauty of the space I've found: I don't know much and I'm happy for it. Does the new space have a pathway, too? Does it lead somewhere? Is this space really a void, or can it look like something? If it can look like something, do I choose what it looks like? (If yes, then I choose a meadow!) Can I incorporate more truths over time? Do the old truths have a place here? Do I need to know more than I currently know? Will I really be happy in this space for the rest of my life? I don't know. It's a beautiful thing to embrace.

Teancom's Baptism

Pictures for the Program.  Tamra's pick.

Teancom's pick.  Dad was making him laugh.  So cute.

Teancom was baptized on Sunday, August 24th and we are very proud of him.  The back story makes this baptism really shine.

As you guys know, Teancom struggles with anxiety.  It's not everyday, but it surfaces when he's faced with new things.  New things are scary.  Also scary:  Being in front of lots of people.  For these two reasons, I was concerned that he wouldn't do well with his baptism.

Oh, and he hasn't historically loved going to church.  For real, I pressed him hard on if he really, really wanted to get baptized.  If he doesn't want to go to church, maybe he doesn't want to be baptized.  We had lots of discussions about this.

But Tank said he wanted to do it, so we went forward with plans.  As it came closer, though, I sensed that things weren't awesome for him.  He was acting up a little bit (which is also connected, I think, to being 8.  Why are all children monsters at this age?), he was avoiding talking about the subject.  And then it came time to have an interview with the Bishop.  I thought this would be no big deal.  He knows the church building.  He knows the Bishop.  He's been in meetings with him before.  What's new about that?

He threw a colossal fit and refused to go to the church building.  He didn't know why he didn't want to go (which matches every other Anxiety Zone moment we've had:  rationality leaves), but there were lots of tears.  He said he did want to get baptized, though, so since a Bishop's interview is required, I ended up coaxing him into going to the church building. Then, during the interview, he sat on my lap and said nothing the entire time.  The Bishop asked him how he felt about being baptized, and all he could say was, "I don't know.  ...  I don't KNOW.  ...  I DON'T KNOW!"  Needless to say, the Bishop is no longer unaware that Tank has anxiety issues.  He was very patient, though, and saw through to Tank's heart.

Even after that, Tank cried when we asked him about how he was feeling about his baptism.  When he finally opened up about it, he was afraid of being in front of all those people.  Rob talked him through how things would go, and he must be magic, because at the end Tank said, "I can do that."

And then he did!

I'm proud of him for not letting fear and anxiety rule his life.  Even if it was this one instance, every decision to face and overcome anxiety builds character.  He can look back and remember that time he decided he was going to try gymnastics.  Then that other time when he chose to get baptized.  Then, in the future, there will be that time when he decided to go to college, or go on a mission, or get married.  By small and simple things indeed.

We were blessed to have lots of family and friends there to support Teancom.  He even had his favorite Primary teacher give a talk on baptism, even though she'd had surgery THAT WEEK!  She is amazing and Teancom is lucky to have someone who is so loving and supportive.

It's always lovely, as a parent, to see your children making life choices of great moment.  Watching them learn and grow is a pleasure.

School!

On this, the first day of school, I don't have any pictures for you.  Sorry.  I'm lame like that.  I didn't even wake up to see Miciah off on her first day.  Yep.

However, I would like to take a moment and brag on my kids.  I try to avoid that, but I'm proud of those kiddos.  So if you'd like to indulge me for a second, continue reading.  I'll try to keep it brief.

Tank rocks out school.  He is a top performer in his class, he knows it and likes it.  His 2nd grade teacher said that when the class is misbehaving, he'll sit there quietly and sometimes even roll his eyes.  He has told me before that he thinks his class is horribly behaved.  What a cocky snot!  :)  Still, he takes his studies seriously and is ON TOP of doing homework and such.  He involves us in the process, and he asks me or Rob to check his work every night because he hates being wrong.  (He has a fear of being wrong.  I think we've discussed this before.)  I worry that later on in his school career he'll burn out early because of all the pressure he puts on himself, but for now he's doing great.

Elijah's 4th grade year was rough.  He spent a lot of time blaming his evil math teacher for all his troubles.  You'd think she was some old hag with warts, the way he talked about her.  I finally, mid-year, called him on his crap.  I told him I would no longer accept any excuses for his failures.  They were his fault, the end!  Tough love.  I'm good at tough love.  And his Math grade, which had plunged down into the C range, came back up to a solid A- by the end of the year.  Not only was Elijah getting better grades in all of his classes, he was proud of himself.  He watched his hard work pay off with good grades, and he liked that feeling.  There is hope in the world, as it turns out, and he decided he wanted some if it for himself!  Way to go, Elijah!

Miciah is a super star.  At the end of the school year, apparently one of the other kids in her homeroom class snatched her progress report out of her hands.  As the teacher was saying, "Give that back to Miciah," the kid was saying, "THREE 100%'s?!  You must be cheating!"  Apparently every other kid in the class was like, "She's not cheating."  He said, "I know, but still!"  :)  Miciah succeeds in school because she likes to, and because she works dang hard.  No doubt that she's smart, but she works her tail off.  She's a serious over-achiever.  I mean, I know that Rob and I were both the same sort of student, but she definitely works harder than I did, and her grades reflect that.  We lightly tease her about it.  She came home with a 102% on a test this last year and we gave her our typical speech of, "Miciah, we're really disappointed that you brought home this kind of score.  We expect you to get an F next time."  She went back to school and told her teacher what we'd said and the teacher responded with, "Your parents are weird, Miciah.  Just kidding, they're awesome."  :)  Our alternate speech is, "We're really disappointed in this grade.  Next time we want to see 120%."  Really, Miciah is the awesome one.  Often other people will congratulate us about what a good job we're doing with Miciah.  I give the same response every time:  Miciah is doing a great job with Miciah.  We just stay out of her way.

One last brag on Miciah.  I know this would embarrass her, but I can't help it.  I'm just so proud of her!  She took the OAA (Ohio Achievement Assessment) for Math and Reading back at the end of this last school year.  They always send home a detailed report about her scores.  She's always right at the top of the chart, but this year she TOPPED the chart.  Her Reading score was the highest possible.  Now, I don't know if that's a true 100% or if the scores are curved, but either way, that girl is on fire.

Okay, that's it.  A post about Tank's baptism to come.

Announcement / Story #3: Stepping Away

Last Announcement / Story in my series.

Announcement:  I'm stepping away from the Mormon church.  Let's call it "taking a break."

Story:  This one is way too complicated for a full story.  I don't even have a definitive start time or a single plot line.  So I'll skip to just recently.

I have found it difficult lately to reconcile my conscience with the church that I love.  Having struggled with this for a very long time, and feeling like my spirituality was hitting rock bottom on a regular basis because of it, I decided that what I needed was some distance.  So I gave myself permission to do just that.

It is amazing how freeing this has been.  I'm really happy about it and excited to see where this journey will take me.  I, myself, am not sure where it ends, I just know I'm happy to be where I'm at.  For now, that's enough.

This, I realize, is alarming to some people.  I can understand that.  This path is new for me and a little scary.  It's full of disappointing people that I love and potentially losing friends that I cherish.  It's full of what if's and don't know's.  But the place where I'm at right now is not a place of loss or fear.  It's a place of peace and calm.  It's a safe place without conflict.  And having found this place for the first time in a long time, I intend to keep it.

I haven't abandoned everything about the Mormon church.  It's still there.  I'm not certain what I will do with it all.  My intention is to go through it all, piece by piece, and decide what to do with it.  It won't be a fast process, but I'm hoping that by the end, I'll have figured some new things out about myself and about my Heavenly Father.

Wish me luck!

(Feel free to ask me any questions that you'd like.  If it's a personal question, e-mail me or call or come by for a visit.  Don't worry that you'll offend.  I'm not like that.)

California Trip and what now?

This summer has been one of the best of my life.  For serious, I have loved it.  I worked a little, but mostly didn't.  This meant I just hung out with my boys a lot.  We took short trips to loved ones' places and enjoyed the heck out of that.  We all did Cub Camp.  We took the kids back to the museum and the zoo, and went to COSI in Columbus, too.  We've just had fun.

Here are some pictures from the Fort Wayne festival thingy that we went to:

Rob and Dustin in the hamster balls.  It was HILARIOUS to watch.

Checking out the steel drums after the band was done playing.  Elijah now wants a set.

I went to California for the first time in years.  It's always nice to go see family, and this time I got to love on my sister, Lori's new baby.  LOVED IT.  We did a bunch of stuff, too, which was fun.  We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which is amazing.  They now have an octopus exhibit which was breath-taking.  For real.  I would go to an aquarium that ONLY showed octopuses.  Beautiful creatures.

The tattoo I plan on getting.

Jellies!!!

Miciah and Dea laying on the ground watching the sardines swim in a big circle.

 

I got to see, and have long talks with, almost all of my siblings.  Collin, my bestie, and his wife, were there while I was.  That was amazing.  I got to go jean shopping with Lori (she showed me where to buy more expensive, better quality jeans).  We went on walks.  We took turns holding the baby.  We put together a puzzle.  It was blissful.  We're all adults now and much nicer to hang around than we were as teenagers and young, stupid 20-somethings.

New jeans, post hemming.  I'm short.

The puzzle.  Fun, right?  It's my family, 2009.

My favorite place we went to is now a Must See every time we head out to CA:  Point Lobos State Reserve.  So, so pretty.

This is Miciah saying, "NO!"  She didn't want me to take her picture.

The other thing that was going on while I was in CA was less than nice.  Before I left, Tank came down with some sickness.  He was sick for a few days, seemed to be recovering for a few days right when I left for CA, and then was even sicker for another few days.  Rob took him in to the doctor and got him an antibiotic.  He still recovered slowly, in terms of getting his energy back.

Then I got a call from Rob saying that he was coming down with something.  The next day he called and said he was feeling lousy.  The next day he texted and said he had bronchitis.  Then he texted a few hours later and said he also had pneumonia in one lung.  Ugh!  He was on two antibiotics, codine cough syrup, and was rotating Tylenol and Ibuprofin every few hours.  Intense.

I got home Tuesday night and instantly was plunged into a very overwhelming state.  Rob was still really sick, so I had all the normal things to take care of post-trip, PLUS all the things that didn't get done while he was laid up.  It seemed like everywhere I turned someone needed something from me and only me.  "Have you done this yet?"  No.  Not yet.  Just repeat "not yet" for everything you're wanting to ask me.

On top of that, we were making preparations for going down to Mammoth Cave for two days as a family.  (And with my parents.  My parents are at my house right now.)  We canceled Rob's tickets.  My mom and I were starting to talk about food prep when it became obvious that Elijah was coming down with the same crap.  Of course.  SO, we scrapped the whole trip and ate the cost of the cabin plus the portion of the tour tickets that couldn't be refunded.  Which was fine.  I feel like I paid $130 for an extra two days to put my house back in order and take care of my sick boys.  Worth it.

But woah.  :)  It's been nuts.

Rob is now almost back to normal.  He's on a business trip in Michigan, and I'm with him.  He gets tired too early in the day and has a lingering cough, but that's about all that's left of his sickness.  Elijah isn't at 100% either, yet, but he's getting closer everyday.  (Seeing Elijah just sitting for hours was bizarre.  That kid normally has so much energy.  ...  The house was really quiet.)

Lake Michigan, where Lake Muskegon connects.

Michigan is beautiful.

Elijah has figured out Time Travel!

Rob and I went on a quick weekend road trip to Virginia to attend a funeral (my 3rd in 2 months.  What's up with that?).  We went with my uncle and his wife, as well as another aunt.  The funeral was nice and the road trip was awesome!  Why don't adults do more random road trips together?  It was delightful.

On the way, while making conversation, Rob told us about Elijah's idea for time travel.  Here's how it went:

Rob:  Elijah has figured out time travel.
Me:  Oh, yeah?!
Rob:  Yeah.  It involved capturing a white dwarf with a claw.

I was trying to figure out what mystical properties a dwarf would have, what his claw looked like, and why it couldn't be another race of dwarf.  And then, once Elijah had it captured, what would he do with him?  Shake him until he granted the wish of time travel?

The conversation went on.

Me:  How would that work?
Rob:  Well, you know that Cub Camp had a space theme.  So he was thinking about that and decided that if he captured a white dwarf...

I just started laughing.

Me:  Oh!  A white dwarf STAR!
Rob:  Yeah.  He would go out with a space ship and capture a white dwarf.
Me:  With a claw?

Again, I wasn't sure how this collapsing star would have a claw.

Rob:  Yeah, the space ship would have some mechanical arm that would grab the white dwarf.
Me:  Oh!  (still laughing)  He would capture a white dwarf STAR by USING a claw.

By the end, Rob and I were laughing so hard that we were crying.  It's been a fun phrase:  "A white dwarf with a claw."  Too funny.

Though, I have to hand it to Elijah.  His idea sounds pretty awesome.  He would capture not only one, but TWO white dwarf stars and bring them close to each other.  There, in the middle, where space and time are bent, is where the time travel would be possible.

Of course.

Announcement / Story #2 - Why I Don't Write

Really, my Announcement/Story #2 and #3 are related concepts, but I thought it would be useful (to myself) to separate them cleanly into two ideas.  Maybe it'll fail, but as something of a free write exercise, I think it could be fun.

I've figured out yet another piece in the puzzle of why I don't write on my blog sometimes.  I've explored some of these before: my kids are older, I have more outlets now, I have a job that requires me to be quiet and being quiet can be lovely and freeing, I just don't care enough, etc.  But here's my new discovery/self-admission:

Announcement:  I don't write on my blog when I feel conflicted.

For instance, I'll want to write up something fun that my kids did, but when I sit down to write it out, I'll feel overwhelmed with the desire to write about this internal conflict that is eating me up.  I've even written about that in the past (now that I've written that out, I now realize I've said it before).

#1:  We spent years working hard to get out of debt and then, because life is life, went back into debt.  This was fairly guilt-inducing for me.  Know what I don't deal well with?  Guilt.  It's a nasty thing that I don't touch, so I don't know what to do with it when it shows up.  Avoid!  Avoid!

#2:  I'll want to talk about some issue that's complicated or controversial, but then I'm not sure what to do about it all.  Should I write about it or not?  What would I say?  Would my blog friends be offended?  Do I care about that?  What do I even feel about it, deep down?  Can I define it for myself?  ...  Ah, to hell with it.  I won't write anything at all.

#3:  I'll have announced some decision on here and then feel like I still can't decide on that issue that I declared loudly that I had figured out!  Then I'll want to write about it again but I think it'll make me sound crazy.  Am I crazy?  Am I unstable?  Maybe I'm just fun and cool.  Maybe everyone else is too boring.  Maybe ...  Maybe I'll just write nothing.

Etc.  

Lately I've been battling #2.  But that is a story for the next installment.

Butterfly Show @ Khron's

This year Rob and I went to the Butterfly Show twice.  The first time it was just us with my brother and his girlfriend, and I have to say that the Butterfly Show is probably three times more enjoyable with kids.  There's something about watching them experience it that is magical.

If you're my Facebook friend, you've seen a bunch of these pictures before, but just recently I thought to myself, why don't I log these on my blog any more?  So here they are:

Yes, this is about as much as Elijah smiles for pictures.  :)  The kids loved having the butterflies land on them, and of course, the adults did, too.  I had two land on my back, I was told, and one land on my arm.  The boys kept coming to try to steal them off of me, but I fought to keep them!

The boys fought us hard about going to the Butterfly Show in the first place.  They're too old.  They've seen it before.  Blah, blah, blah.  But we're mean parents and we forced them to go anyway.  And wouldn't you know it, they loved it.  They even stopped by the kids' craft room to make finger butterflies.  The rest of the day, Elijah flew that finger butterfly all over, flapping the paper wings as he went.  Too old.  Ha!

This is my goofy brother, petting a butterfly.  Really, the butterfly is dead, but I thought it'd still make a good picture cause, you know, you can't tell if it's dead or not in a photo.  So he's petting it.  Because that's funny.  We were all giggling about it.

One of the funnest parts of the whole thing was buying a caterpillar at the end.  It comes home in a plastic cup filled with food.  After about a week or so, it forms into a chrysalis, and then after about two weeks more, it hatches into a butterfly!  It was really fun to watch.

That's after a few days' growth.  It had roughly doubled in size already.

And this is after one of the butterflies was already out.  In the center you can see the empty chrysalis, to the left the butterfly, and to the right the second chrysalis, a few hours away from opening up.

A fun thing about chrysalises, apart from everything, because chrysalises are FREAKING AWESOME:  Right before the butterfly emerges, it turns this dark, almost black color.  We thought that maybe it had died and was rotting.  And you can see the butterfly inside, right at the very end of the process.

Also, I listened to a Radiolab podcast called Black Box, and they talked about chrysalises.  It kinda blew my mind and I don't want to spoil it for you if you don't already know what happens inside a chrysalis.  Here's a link to the 16 minute story so you don't have to listen to the entire hour program if you don't want.  (Though I totally suggest everyone listen to every single Radiolab.  Because they're all pretty dang fascinating.  I love that show.)

So, yeah, I recommend that at least once, everyone buy a caterpillar and watch the process.  It's beautiful and mysterious and captivating.  Also, once the butterflies hatched, we got to watch them sun their wings in the morning sun.  It was just beautiful.

Announcement / Stories #1: Rob's New Job

Well, it's been a while.  I'll discuss why in a later Announcement/Story.  But this one today is all about Rob's new job.

Announcement:  Rob got a new job!

It's for the same company, so not much changes.  He still works from home.  He still travels.  We're not moving.

There are a few perks.  It comes with a sizable raise in base salary and opportunities to get quite a bit more in commission.  On top of that, they offered him a company car, a Toyota RAV4, which he accepted.  So we will in short order be selling our 2011 Chevy Cruze.  We are excited about all of these things.

Story:

Back in March or so, Rob's sales partner for the US region he's over (it's called Central and includes the Midwest and parts of the South.  Think Nebraska to Florida, but not Texas) quit.  So just like that Rob was doing two jobs for the price of one.

At first the idea of sales kinda freaked him out.  Would he be good at it?  Did he even want to do it?  But during his little trial run, he found out he had a knack for it.  By the time the sales job officially came open, everyone assumed he would apply and that, if he did, he would get it.

But Rob didn't want to apply.  Or so he said.  He hemmed and hawed over it.  He would adamantly say no, he wouldn't apply, and then question it.  We had many talks about it, most of which went something like this:

Rob:  I'm not going to apply.
Me:  Okay.
Rob:  But maybe I will apply.
Me:  Okay.
Rob:  Well, what do you think I should do?
Me:  Rob, it doesn't really affect me in any way.  If you want to apply for it, great.  If not, great.
Rob:  Oh.  Well, I'm not going to apply.
Me:  Okay.
... and repeat

When the job was posted, and for two weeks after, Rob told everyone in the company that he was definitely not applying.  People were shocked, but understanding.

This brings us to a Saturday morning.  We were driving in the car to the temple and I thought it was the right time to confront Rob with the reality of what I was seeing:  He actually wanted to apply for the job.  We went through all of his objections:

This will ruin my family. ...  Nope.
I don't know if I'll like it or not.  ...  You've been doing it for months.  You have liked it so far.
Maybe I won't be good at it.  ...  -roll my eyes-
This will ruin my career.  ...  I doubt it.
Tamra, you wouldn't apply for it.  ...  It's not me who's applying.
We don't need the extra money.  ...  No, we don't.  You're right.
Tamra, make this decision for me. ...  Umm, no.

When it was distilled down to the very essence of his struggle, we realized, together, that Rob was fighting The Unknown.  Rob hates change.  He knows that he likes his current job, and he thinks he'll like the new job, but WHAT IF...  And those what if's eat him alive.

So, kudos to Rob, he defeated the What If monster and applied for the job.  Last week he was offered the job, and today is his official start date.

Also, kudos to me for being an awesome wife.  Seriously.  I rocked that one out.

Out of the Fog

So I'm finally out of a couple-month-long fog of depression.  I've been looking around my life and realizing what a beautiful one I have!  It's been great.

A few short notes on depression.

- I realized I was depressed as this was going on, and I didn't really care.  It is usually true that Fully Sane Tamra can realize that Depressed Tamra needs help, but Depressed Tamra doesn't care.

- At one point I called an old friend and talked about how, even though I'd been planning on making a trip to her house, it wasn't going to happen any time soon.  I told her how I didn't really want to go anywhere or do anything because I was just feeling so stressed about life.  She said something that caught my attention:  "And that's unusual for you, because you love to travel!"  ...  This is a hallmark of depression:  Loss of interest in things you normally like to do.  ...  Did this immediately snap me out of my depression?  No.  But I recognized it.

- While I was stressed and there were life circumstances that I could blame my depression on, I take full responsibility for how I felt.  Reacting poorly is one thing, but there was a choice I made along the way to check out.  It was a survival tactic, I think:  I can't handle this, so I'm just checking out emotionally.  But I made a choice to not care about anything I valued in my life.  This extended to EVERYTHING:  family, marriage, home, work, dreams, hobbies, religion, God, and myself.  It's almost like I was daring myself to see how close I could get to the edge without falling off the cliff.  My report:  That's a scary place to be.


Things have calmed down, the basement is done, things feel more stable, and it felt safe to come back.  I still didn't immediately move back to Sanity, though, because ...  because I didn't want to, I suppose.  What finally snapped me back to goodness was looking around and noticing all the decay.  It's like walking through a fixer-upper house and realizing that you either need to abandon it or start getting to work!  I decided that I should get back to work.  My life is great.  I don't want to abandon it.

So, Happy New World to me!  It's nice to be involved again.

The Weekend

The kids are away at Grandma's house this weekend.  The house is so quiet!  And clean.  I dig it.

Yesterday my brother and his girlfriend came down for the weekend and we had an Adventure Day!  We bought scrumptious food at Jungle Jim's for a picnic later in the day, then we went to the Butterfly show at Khron's Conservatory.  It was beautiful, as always, but half of the fun is watching the kids' reactions to it all.  We'll have to go back with them in tow.  After that we drove over to a park by the river and ate all the delicious picnic food we'd recently purchased.  We drove home the long way and looked at different houses in Cincinnati's West Side.  It was all delightful!

I decided that what made the day so great was just how relaxing a day like that can be when there aren't kids involved!  At Jungle Jim's we took our time and looked at silly things we didn't intend to purchase.  We took driving routes that weren't the fastest, knowing that no one would be whining about how tired/bored they were, or how they needed to go pee RIGHT NOW.  We bought expensive, delicious food for our picnic, knowing that everyone would appreciate it instead of whining that it was gross.  No one poked someone in the eye or had to be yelled at or almost got lost in the park or or or.  It was just fun!

And this is why people choose to not have children.

You guys know that I love my kids, but when some of my friends tell me that they don't want kids ever, my response is always, "That's okay."  Kids are great, and they're a trip, but no kids is great, too.

Our weekend isn't over.  We're going to a Reds game tonight (on a Sunday night - special circumstances that aren't worth explaining), probably our only game of the season, with my soccer buddies, and no one will whine about not being able to purchase cotton candy, and we won't have to listen to whiny tiredness when the game goes into extra innings, and if we do hear any of those things, they'll be coming from someone else's kids!

Though yesterday morning I was poking Rob and just generally trying to annoy him.  He said, "You're being really annoying this morning."  I said, "The kids aren't around.  SOMEone has to annoy you!"  He said, "No!  They don't!"  Ha.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, friends!

No Offense Mom, But...

Elijah is a funny cat.  The way he talks is sometimes different, but so so cute.  

The other day Elijah used his serious tone to say, "No offense Mom, but do you think you're skinny?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to this.  In normal English usage, the phrase "no offense" sets you up to hear some bad news.  So was Elijah trying to tell me that I was actually fat, no matter what I thought?  And then there's the "do YOU THINK you're skinny?" part.  Was he trying to say that I obviously think I'm skinny but I'm clearly not, and he's here to set me straight?

I decided to ask him to rephrase.  "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you, like, do you think you're skinny?"

So he wasn't trying to be offensive, probably.  Still, I was cautious and feeling somewhat defensive.  "Umm, yes.  I think I'm pretty skinny.  I could be skinnier.  I mean, I'm not fat.  Right?"

Now Elijah's tone was brighter.  "Yeah.  I think it's pretty cool that you can be like that.  You know..."

I knew what he meant.  "Because a lot of people my age aren't?"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah.  I'm kind of a little person."

He was happy, it seemed, that he was able to give me this compliment.  Which was cute.  But I was just relieved that I wasn't being insulted.  Ha!

This One is a Must-Listen!

I love podcasts, and one of my all-time favorites (as I've mentioned before), is Radiolab.  I learn a ton, it's fun to listen to, and I find myself referencing them ALL THE TIME.  Seriously.  The information I get from this show finds its way into my conversations probably about once a week.

This podcast is mostly stories about science or music, so I was surprised by the latest podcast entitled 60 Words which took on a political topic.  To quote from their website:

"This hour we pull apart one sentence, written in the hours after September 11th, 2001, that has led to the longest war in U.S. history. We examine how just 60 words of legal language have blurred the line between war and peace.

In the hours after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, a lawyer sat down in front of a computer and started writing a legal justification for taking action against those responsible. The language that he drafted and that President George W. Bush signed into law - called the Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF) -  has at its heart one single sentence, 60 words long. Over the last decade, those 60 words have become the legal foundation for the "war on terror."

A fascinating subject.

Of course I remember this time well.  It was a somber moment for our nation, full of uncertainty, fear and anger.  During the podcast, which explores how we went from a single sentence to a 12-year war, they state that "no one saw this coming" except this one member of Congress.  I just smiled sadly.  Because I saw this coming, too.

Right after the towers fell, I wrote in my journal a bunch.  I said in the days following 9/11 that what I was most afraid of is that we would, as a country, be so upset by this event that we would declare a war that would potentially never end.  I wasn't afraid that attacks like this would continue on my home soil.  I wasn't mad at the people who did this to the point that I was ready to beat them up.  I was sad.  I preemptively mourned the loss of our country as a peaceful nation.  

As time went on and wars were declared, Rob would say, "Yes, but this is related to 9/11.  They will stop after this."  As we became more and more involved in dubious military actions, Rob stopped making those comments, and I stopped being sad.  This is now the world we live in.

Now, to be fair, I am a laissez faire - ist when it comes to foreign affairs.  I wish we did not see ourselves as the world's watch dog / hero / do-good-er.  I know there are reasons why we do, but I think that our self-imposed duty of "ridding the world of evil" is not healthy for us or the world.  So it shouldn't be shocking that I don't approve of the military actions we have taken since 9/11, including those early actions that we saw as justified.  Where is the love?  Where is the forgiveness?  When will our ego be soothed and our anger placated?  

So the podcast was hard to listen to.  At the powerful end of the piece, I was filled with emotion.  As I pondered about it, I had an Ah ha! moment.  This path we're on, it's a destructive one and we need to get off it.  The only way to do that is to not want America's best interests over other countries' best interests.  We need to truly see the people of the world as our brothers and sisters.  And there it was in my head:  D&C's expansion on Malachi 3:5-6, with the words "UTTERLY WASTED" jumping out at me.

D&C 2:1-3:
1 Behold, I will reveal unto you the Priesthood, by the hand of Elijah the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.
2 And he shall plant in the hearts of the children the promises made to the fathers, and the hearts of the children shall turn to their fathers.
3 If it were not so, the whole earth would be utterly wasted at his coming.

I know that this scripture is normally applied to family history work, but what is the process of family history work if it's not the process of realizing that we are ALL brothers and sisters?  We, as a world population, are so interconnected.  We are one people.  If you trace our lineage back and back and back, we all have the same ancestors - we are all related.  DNA-wise, the differences between me and you and them are negligible.  On top of that, we all come from the same Father and Mother.  We truly are all brothers and sisters.  The notion of political and religious boundaries blind us to the truth that we are all One.

And if we don't realize that we are all One people, that we need to respect and love ALL as our own, we will destroy each other.  And the earth will be utterly wasted.  Christ won't have to waste it for us.  We'll have done it ourselves.

...

So go check out the podcast.  It'll give you food for thought.

Doing Stuff We Like!

I know you're all waiting for pictures of our basement, but you know what happened?  The basement got done, our stuff was moved around (and is still being moved around.  It'll take months to get it all "back to normal," I swear), we felt settled in again, and I started loving the stillness.  For instance, our living room currently has no pictures on the walls.  Rob said one day, "Doesn't the living room look so empty?"  My response was, "Yes!  Don't touch it!"  And that's pretty much how I feel about all of it.  Yes, it's quiet and empty and boring.  Don't touch it!  I need to get stuff done and take pictures and finish painting and and and and ...  Don't touch it!  It can wait.  I have apparently have needed some serious down time.  I'm FINALLY feeling up to finishing up the loose ends of the project.  So long as I don't have to do stuff every day.  For hours.  Long into the night.

We're finally back to doing stuff that we LIKE to do!  This last weekend, instead of spending yet another weekend stuck in our basement and not interacting with our kids, we decided to go camping and hiking.  Because that's just a little more awesome than re-arranging food on shelves.

We went back to Clifty Falls Indiana State Park, where Rob and I spent a weekend a few years back.  We wanted to go in the Spring time because the waterfalls that make up half of the park title are really more like water trickles during the summer.  And we're happy to announce that in late April, the falls were slightly better (for a comparison, here's the blog post with pictures from our first hike, late June 2012):

This is not the greatest picture of the main waterfall in the park, but I kinda love the shot.  I like that Miciah and I are up in the top right.  You really get a sense for the clifty and falls reasons for the park's name.  Also, notice that the waterfall actually has falling water.  You could hear the water from a distance.  Neither of those things are true in the summer time.

We really do love hiking and camping (even though I get the sense sometimes that this makes me lower class).  It's a great time to be together with less distractions AND enjoying nature.  There were a ton of wild flowers in the forest this time of year, and it was lovely.  Here's me and the kids on the trail:

Elijah wasn't happy that we insisted he follow the park rules and stay on the trail.  My favorite line of the day was when Rob pointed to a "Stay on Designated Path" sign and said, "Elijah, I want you to read that sign and tell me what you think it means."  Elijah thought we were trying to ruin his life by forcing him to not have fun.  He hung in there long enough to get to the part of the trail where scrambling over rocks and doing your own thing are encouraged:  the creek bed!

As he got to the top of every large boulder, he would pose for his Conqueror shot.  Rob started telling him no before Elijah even asked.  How many hero pictures does one person need in a day?  My favorite one is the following "action" shot, of Elijah climbing back down:

He made up that pose and then held it for about 20 seconds so that Rob could get the shot exactly as Elijah wanted.  Rob finally started telling him no on fake action shots, too.

We scrambled all around the creek bed and had a lot of fun doing so until the kids got tired and whiny.  Exacerbating this issue was the fact that while Teancom was climbing on a log, about 6 inches off the ground, the log snapped and nearly gave him and me both a heart attack!  Teancom was clearly in a little bit of shock, and I was temporarily alarmed until I fully assessed the situation and realized he was fine.  We kept hiking, but as we went along, Teancom became more and more worked up about it all.  I would have thought that it would have temporarily caused him some anxiety, but after a little time passed, he'd be mostly back to normal.  But I underestimated the super powers of our Champion Worrier!  After another 20 minutes or so had passed, Teancom was saying the phrase, "I'm going to die," about every 30 seconds.

I am happy to report that Teancom didn't, in fact, die.  I'm sure you were wondering.

(Pretend I wrote a side note here about Teancom's anxiety issues.  I think it's fascinating, and I'm not quite sure what to do about it all, and it's an important part of Teancom's life story, but I don't really want to go into excessive detail at this exact moment because this is a post about hiking!)

Once we were off the creek bed, Tank was fine.  Elijah decided that he wanted to run as fast as he could back up the ravine.  We said that was okay, but to wait for us at the top, where the trail forks.  Rob and I walked rather slowly with two whiny children who couldn't be convinced that this was fun even though I said it was plenty of times.  When we got to the top, Elijah was nowhere to be seen.  Of course.

Rob took off walking fast to the car, where we figured Elijah would be waiting.  But you never know, and it was probably a mile and a half until we would find out.  Enough time to be worried.  The first couple that passed by Rob told him that they'd indeed seen a little boy, about yea high, who had said, "They're back there.  They're hiking too slow," and who had "a pretty good lead on ya."  Knowing that Elijah hiked the right direction from the fork was a relief.  It's a 4.5 mile trail (and who knows if he would have stayed on it!).

It was a good opportunity to tell Teancom about my philosophy about worrying, which is:  Do as little of it as possible.  I HATE feeling worried or anxious.  I reject them as worthwhile feelings.  So even though I was still a little concerned, and I found myself hiking faster than I thought (and leaving Teancom well behind me, shouting at me to slow down), it was a great way to help Teancom talk about the difference between feeling concerned and a little worried, and letting that anxiety ruin your life.  He made the connection to the rocks and his "I'm going to die" episode himself.  Smart kid.

No, Elijah didn't get yelled at too much when we finally caught up with him.  Rob talked to him gently while Elijah rolled his eyes because of COURSE he knew the right way to go and why was Dad freaking out anyway.  By the time I arrived at the car, I got to smile and leave it be.  Perfect.

Bonus picture:

Teancom modeling his "pig nose."  Made me laugh.

Oh!  We decided in the end that the best time of year to see the "falls" at their highest water volume is probably during the snow melt.  But I'd suggest Spring as an AWESOME time to go.  Not a lot of bugs, perfect temperatures, wild flowers, new green, and enough water to at least make the falls cute.

It's Spring Time!

Soon we will be planting stuff outside, because that's what we do!  I'm so ready for that.

Here's the deal with the basement and pictures:  Once things were painted, they haven't looked significantly different.  Would you like your photos before or after all the trim was installed?  Or the carpet?  Or or or?  So I've made a decision:  I'll post pictures once things are done, and I'll do progressions of each area.  Don't be sad, though, because things are pretty much done TODAY!  They've laid all the flooring, etc., and all that's left is the bathroom shower door and random piddly stuff like window sills.

Here's the great part:  Over the weekend we took all our belongings that were shoved into 2 rooms upstairs and rearranged them into their proper spaces.  So now my living room and bedroom have been reclaimed, Rob's office finally exists, the storage room is taking shape, and the kids are sleeping in their bedrooms downstairs!  It feels amazing.

I've started looking around my life like, "So.  ...  What's next?"  Until I have a great answer for that, I'm enjoying the silence.