Things I learned in December

Attend a live nativity scene every year. I love this tradition!

Don't attempt to update house during December ever again.

Cherish new floor and freshly painted walls. They are beautiful -- even if it was a rough month.

Best Buy smells like body odor.

Do not whack bridge on instrument right before playing in church. Re-tuning even for a minute or two feels like eternity in front of an entire congregation.

It's fine that the Christmas tree went up on Christmas Eve -- not ideal, but fine.

Put Andy in charge of more Christmas presents.

Hobby Lobby is a fun store, even for me.

Making candy is overrated.

My older kids loved tie-dying t-shirts for the family.

Now I need new counters (see tie-dying reference above), but I'm not getting them any time soon.

A rainy December messes with my mind. Also, paint takes longer to dry in 100 per cent humidity. Isn't Utah a desert?

Date night saved my sanity again (and again).

Tall(er) baseboards look awesome in my great room.

Only one third of the lights on our pre-lit tree work -- taking note for next year.

There was not time to sew Christmas jammies. Target saved the day.

Lights at Temple Square are just as pretty the week after Christmas as the weeks leading up to it. Plus it's less crowded.

Sausage and I are no longer friends.

The live nativity was my favorite moment of the entire month. Audrey loved petting the sheep. There's nothing more beautiful than a two-year-old saying "baby Jesus" and pointing in awe at the manager scene.

the problem with painting

The paint has been sitting the garage for over a month. I decided that yesterday was a good day to paint the great room. Andy did not think that was a great idea, but he yielded a brush anyway.

Just after we began, he decided it was necessary to remove the baseboards. They were old and banged up from back in July when we removed the old carpet to find hardwood floors beneath it. So there went the baseboards! I was excited he was getting into this.

Next, he said we might as well take off the ugly trim around the ginormous (156 inches wide is ginormous, no?) front window because we both really hate it. The other window had no trim at all, so we might as well just re-do two sets of window casings while we were at it.

We continued painting. And painting. And most of the painting is done. The color is a lovely cream color -- very much improved from the previous color -- a mucky olive-toned yellow.

Now all we need to do is refinish the hardwood, put up window new window casings and install new baseboards. Minor stuff, you know. (Maybe for Bob Villa.)

Then I'll be ready to put up my Christmas tree.

Feeling Decemberish

It's still November, but suddenly it feels Decemberish. The weather in Utah is changing. I know it's uncool to love snow. But I do. I really, really love it.

I'm digging in with all sorts of plans. I gave myself a deadline to paint the great room before putting up the Christmas tree. There are also drapes that need hanging and decorations to put up.


(Remember how my boys decked the boughs with Storm Troopers?)

I wish I could say I was done with my Christmas list, but I've just begun to cross things off the list. There are Christmas pajama bottoms that need sewing, gifts to buy and gifts to make. As is our tradition, I'll help my older three kids make presents for each other. This year my boys are teaming up to tie-dye t-shirts for our family. Melina has all sorts of crafty goodness up her sleeves. Melina and I are working on a Christmas duet.

There's a lot on my list. I'm determined to enjoy it. It's not overwhelming (yet), but rather kind of invigorating. I may have to remind myself to breathe in a couple of weeks, but for now, I'll just put on my favorite Christmas tunes and get busy.

This is Me: Confessions of a Lapsed Tomboy

I spent most of my life not knowing how to dress. I had very few, if any, flattering or well-fitting clothes for my awkward, athletic, busty and usually much thicker-than-I-wanted body. I figured I only had three things going for me: my hair (after I'd grown out unfortunate bangs and too short hair styles), my intelligence and my green eyes.

I am still not always sure what I'm doing, but I recently looked back at photos and home videos. And wow! I have learned a thing or two. Or fifty. Part of me wanted to burn old home videos, but the other part of me felt the need to document my progression. I've come a long way since boxy t-shirts and tapered jeans.

There's more to how I feel about this than recently improved choices in clothes. Once I would have considered this post superficial. It's more than my sentiments about flattering jeans or Spanx. It's more than preferring to see my face sans glasses. It's more than all of that.

My parents instilled a deep sense of self worth and confidence in me. I was given opportunities to work hard and thrive. I was taught, I was loved, I was appreciated. I know I still am. I thank them and my Heavenly Father for that. I know what matters.

But. Hating what I saw in the mirror was still a struggle. People treat me differently when I feel crappy about myself. In fact, I let people treat me badly when I feel bad about myself. Even as an awkward teenager I knew that guys weren't attracted to a great vocabulary.

I married Andy. He lets me know that he loves me and that includes my curves, my mind, my spirit -- the whole package. I'm blessed beyond what I could have envisioned.

Pregnancies did a number on my body. I'm not sure whether the complications already existed or if many simply persisted afterward. Nine pregnancies means that I've been a wreck for a long time.

I've been on a journey toward all sorts of health and good things for awhile now. I'm smiling more and there is less of me now. I've learned more about myself than I anticipated.

Despite the good things I've learned, it is such a relief to me that my oldest daughter does not share my body type. This weekend, we shopped for clothes that would fit her growing, lean and lanky body. She tried on clothes that fit and flattered her. There were so many options. I've never had that experience shopping for myself. It became more of a struggle to find clothes for her that were age appropriate and not se*y.

The relief I feel that my girl doesn't share the same body issues I have may be post traumatic on my part, or it could be perpetuating the societal problem. All I know is that shopping for her is fun. Buying a size or two smaller for me isn't too shabby either.

turn down those ear buds, sonny

Me: "Are you going to edit those for me?" asking my in-house designer to work his Photoshop magic.

Him: "Uh, did you just ask me to go to Elko for you?"

Nice to see you.

Hello there! It's been awhile.

Exhibit A: Halloween


Exhibit B: Someone turned 2


Exhibit C: Me, slightly frazzled (not pictured)
Turns out I am not as good at juggling life as I previously thought now I've added working (you know for dinero) to juggling home/laundry/kid activities and whatever else.

Tell me how you are and how you manage your special blend of chaos. I can use all the pointers I can get.

Sparkle

In case you're wondering if all I blog about lately is birthdays, you're right.

My baby is turning two soon. It's been a long time since I had a two year old. Max is seven. He was a delightful two-year-old. I didn't know what the word delightful meant before I had Max. Five years is a long gap between kids, but I am in the club of moms who are happy that miracles and science teamed up and made it possible for me to have babies.





Audrey is her own special blend of sparkle, enthusiasm and obstinance. She is my sidekick with sparkling eyes and a big, engaging smile. She inherited my scowl and my shapely calves.


(You'll have to use your imagination about the calves.)

She is busy and funny and I love her. Even when she loves the dog more than she loves me. Even when she eats my lip gloss. Yes, even then.

I'm glad he was born....

I'm glad my husband had a birthday so that I could make and eat The Great Chocolate Cake with Ganache, accompanied (of course) with vanilla bean ice cream rolled in toasted coconut.

I'm glad I have a husband that thinks Feminism should be called Common Sense. Equal, but different -- that's how we roll.

I'm glad he brought some good looking genes into this union. Also, we have a budding scientist and an artist or two among our off-spring. Those traits came from him.

I'm glad he has a thing for pantones, Hayao Miyazaki films, jalepeños, font treatments, Winger's spicy chicken fingers, Sci-Fi/Fantasy books and aperture settings. Stuff I don't love like he does, but I certainly appreciate his enthusiasm.

I'm glad to hear funny stories of him as a kid...like how when he was a toddler, his twin sister would hide under a bed to drink her bottle because if she didn't, he would steal it from her.

The Breakdown

We took family pictures on Saturday. We are still recovering. This photo sums up how we felt afterward. I'll post some of the better photos once my in-house designer is done Photoshopping them.

great things about tweens

My girl (I've called her that since we met, eleven and a half years ago) is a tween. This wasn't even a stage when I was a kid. It was just 11 or 10 or 12. Now there are entire new stages. Here is a tip for those of you yet to embark on this exciting ride: it's fun. It is very fun. Read on.

My daughter does the following (although not everyday):

texts for me (this is especially handy when I'm driving)
laughs with me
provides endless quirks (she calls them stupid human tricks) for me to laugh at
likes to bake stuff and admits when it is less than delicious

is embarrassed for me, since I may have finally outgrown that
babysits her siblings (miracle of miracles)
fills me in on 6th grade drama
carries on normal conversations about relevant and irrelevant topics
gets excited about clothes I buy for her
is tenderhearted
reads interesting books and discusses them with me on occasion
creates wacky costumes on her little sister
plays with her little sister (notice a trend here?)
changes said sister's diaper (ok, only once in awhile)
gets excited about hair styles, nail polish and many other girly things that I wasn't all that into as a kid
works hard to learn things

still wants to be with me, go wherever I'm going
amazes me on a regular basis because she is smart and empathetic beyond her years
also forgets her math book or lunch on a regular basis so I remember she is still human.

See? There's no need to be afraid of the tween years.

Good morning, Starshine, the Earth says hello!

Take one:

(sun in their eyes, whoops....)

Take two:

(that's better...)

Take three: Guess who really wanted to go to school?

(Cut!)

Ready or not

The kids are back in school. They were excited. School supplies are the best. I miss my older kids. Mostly, I miss the way they entertain and help with Audrey. I thought I was going to get stuff done with school in session. Looks like I'm going to be following Audrey around, preventing bodily harm and fixing everything she destroys.

They've been gone an hour and a half and so far Audrey has

fallen off the piano bench,

thrown bites of egg down,

tried to sweep the floor,

broken the spindle on a chair,

rubbed buttery hands on Andy's dress pants before he left for a very important meeting,

grabbed scissors,

ripped a page out of Andy's sketch pad,

unrolled a roll of scotch tape,

dunked Josh's leftover birthday cake into a cup of milk,

pulled gear out of Andy's camera bag.

a few questions

Isn't microdermabrasion basically just sanding a layer skin off?

Is it Monday yet? School starts on Monday.

Don't vintage clothes have old germs in them? How about vintage furniture? (Shudder.)

Is Ritter Sport gluten free?

Laughing all the way

This week, we are donning swim suits as much as possible just so the kids remember that they did have fun this summer. At the splash park, I laughed as several other mothers yelled/hollered/protested that they were getting wet. Did I mention that we were at a water feature? With actual water?

My kids are ready for more routine than our non-routine. (Tangent: someone please remind me of this when I am in the throes of our fall schedule of soccer/swim team/music lessons/scouts and I cry because I am a natural homebody that is never home.) Sometimes they fight. They are kids. It happens. I used to stress about this. I mean, yeah I want everyone to get along, but lately I find myself laughing. You're freaked out because of what? And then I just laugh, because one kid is upset that another kid moved his new backpack out of the way.


We also revisited our fake camping experience. One night. Canoes, paddle boats, rocks, sticks, foil dinners, s'mores, one (unnamed) child who didn't make it to the bathroom, one sleepless toddler and two sleepless parents. Four extra loads of laundry. Ha ha! Gotta laugh at that.

There were rocks in my dryer courtesy of Audrey...





These two cousins couldn't reach the paddles on their paddle boat. They ended up nearly standing on the paddles to get back to shore. You can it ingenuity or character building, I simply call it funny.


I bought these socks for Melina. I didn't envision that they would be worn like this.


P.S. Is it wrong that I am already humming Christmas carols? Laughing all the way...ha ha ha!

Odds and Ends

Kissing Balloons, taken by Andy on Independence Weekend, which was a really long celebration.



1. School starts in less than a month. I think I am ready. I want to fill backpacks with notebooks and buy enough pencils to make a pencil bouquet a la Kathleen Kelly.

2. Garden update: I gave two thirds of my zucchini plants a pep talk. One plant is making all the others look bad. My tomatoes are still green. With over a dozen tomato plants, we'll be swimming in tomatoes one of these days. Hello lycopene! And salsa!

3. You've heard of noise canceling ear buds. I've decided I should invent jiggle canceling sunglasses to spare the folks that pass me as I jog/run/walk/pant -- their poor, poor eyes.

4. I'm trying to eat gluten free. I'm not very good at it yet. Perhaps I should I say I am eating less gluten. I do pretty well all day long and then forget my issues and eat a forbidden brownie.

5. Quinoa is the messiest food to feed a toddler. I'd much rather wipe up smeared pudding than chase down all these itty bitty seeds for days on end. And yet, I keep on making it. (See gluten-free trial numero quatro.)

6. We have recently textured and painted walls and ripped up flooring. There is so, so much more to do. Ugh.

7. My oldest is eleven. I am letting her tend the other kids for short periods of time. Is this what freedom feels like? I'll take it.

We do stuff

Dear Interwebs,

I forgot to tell you that we went fake camping. It was pretty, as you can see from the photo above (taken by Andy as is customary for us). It was fake camping because we slept in cabins and had nice bathrooms -- showers in addition to toilets. Fake camping is almost as much work as real camping. All the clothes still smelled like camping--smokey! I've never been great at math. (I made it through College Algebra by the grace of God and Andy's step-by-step tutoring.) Even with my limited math skills, I can tell you that the number of laundry loads after camping for three days far exceeds the laundry loads for an entire week at home. That math is illogical or imaginary or just plain flawed.

My kids enjoyed Challenge Course type stuff. As in "I challenge you to get over your fear of heights or you'll be crying like a baby...." that type of thing. Melina sailed. She went very, very high.



Josh was more anxious, did not go as high. But he felt like he soared. We let him think he had.

This was a walk in the park for Andy, after he wrangled himself into the harness anyway.

(go ahead and laugh, I did)

Other gratuitous photos from our fake camp out:
There's Max at sunrise. Nice, eh? What a lovely shaped head he has. He missed out on the challenge course, as he didn't meet the height requirement. We remedied his disappointment with a nature hike. It worked only because he didn't know what he was missing.

Audrey was up very late after she took a four hour afternoon nap. Long naps = Audrey in a great mood. Usually the binkie is hers and hers alone.



Proof that is was fake camping. Cabins. I camped my way through the summers of my childhood. Camping has lost its allure now that I am responsible for creating all that fun outdoors and cleaning up the dirty aftermath.

We did it for the kids. For the children. And I survived to tell the tale, even if it took a month for me to be able to talk about it.

Well, I'm off to swimming lessons with the kiddos!

Stay cool. I hope you have a fun summer.

Your BFF,
Rynell

Living on the edge

I parted my hair on the OPPOSITE SIDE today. Call me crazy.

I also goofed off with these gals today. We're wild.

I'm melting! melting! Oh, what a world! What a world!

It's summer and so naturally I feel like I'm melting. I'm not actually melting though, thanks to air conditioning and popsicles. To make myself feel cooler, I'm going to tell you about the hottest place I've ever been.


Grand Canyon photo taken by Andy in 2007


It has been hot every time I've visited Arizona. Once the entire state was on fire. Ash rained down on us. Other times, hot winds blew my hair into my face with every family touristy photo we took-- Meteor Crater, at the family Wigwam motel and at the Mesa LDS temple and of course--I mean of course, there's the Grand Canyon. Andy's favorite place is Havasupai.


(Andy took this photo of the Havasupai Falls last summer.)




(Meteor Crater in 2007. That is one big hole in the ground. Again, photo by my honey 'cause he's cool like that and I'm not.)


Andy loves triple digit weather. I prefer icy weather. Or cool weather. Or rain. Or snow. But I love Arizona for other reasons. My man was born in that desert. Right near the Painted Desert, to be exact. We've also had some great family trips there. I've slept in a Wigwam on three occasions now. (Have you?)


(I took this photo of Andy and our 3 older kids in 2007 at his family's Wigwam Motel. Yep. Wigwams. My kids love to tell people they've slept in a Wigwam.)


The other-worldly red desert reminds me of a Martian landscape. We've been lost on Indian reservation roads and magically appeared at our destination. I swam in my aunt's pool in Tucson at Christmas time as a child. I still remember her rock garden, her extensive doll collection, her terracotta tiled floors and eating shrimp cocktail for the first time there. She passed away a few years ago and I miss her.

Loving Arizona took some time. Really. I start to melt around 80 degrees. But Arizona has common sense and that means Dairy Queens everywhere and swimming pools aplenty. Daylight savings time? They don't buy into that. Awesome.

none of my kids puked on the rides (success!)

Max was scared. I rode this big ferris wheel in the rain with a wiggly Audrey! What was I thinking?
This is more like it. Nice, safe carousel.

Melina is getting tall. She will soon be my height. Am I ready for this? Absolutely not. In other news, my boys finally have haircuts. This is the before photo, they are still shaggy here.

I'm glad she still chooses face paint once in awhile. She likes to sneak into my drawer and wear my make up. It's been a waste of time to wish she'd stay small. She's turned into a delightful (and sometimes sassy) tween.

It's summer. Did you know?

So far, we've consumed two Costco-sized packages of frozen confections. Edy's popsicles are my favorite -- the Lemonade flavor is amazing. But the Creamies went fast too. Audrey will eat most anything, but she especially loves the frozen treats.




Our town's Summerfest is happening this weekend and (boy howdy!) the kids are excited. They want to ride every single ride.

My boys seem to live in this tree. I've forbidden them from falling and/or breaking any bones. We have an agreement.



I scored some new Dansko slingbacks in tan for twenty bucks. It made my week.

Audrey was doing one of those all-nighter puke fests this week. That did not make my week. She's better now, but I keep waiting for someone else to start up. So far, everyone's fine. This may not last if they ride the Twirly Gig on Saturday.

such a happy day (or at least it was supposed to be)

I bet you'd like to know how I managed to get a new hot water heater for my anniversary.

It turns out our water heater had been installed the year we were married (1996) and it gave up the ghost the day we were celebrating our anniversary.

Nothing says "Happy Anniversary" like a flooded basement!

anniversary month

pardon the puffed sleeves, it was 1996, and also I've never had any fashion sense anyway...

It's May. Andy and I were married in May fourteen years ago. Without waxing nostalgic or sentimental, (oh who am I kidding?) I plan to share a few of the why-I-love-him-isms.

Firstly, he's got his priorities straight.

Case in point: last night he brought me a Ritter Sport and he brought the kids Kit Kats. Chocolate is one of his love languages. He has a sculpture of Nutella jars. Serious.

I'm not even sure what the phrase "love language" means. I haven't read a relationship book since Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus (duh). I like being his one and only. I think that's all I need to know.

Feminism from a fifth grader

(groovy photo my oldest took in photobooth)

I've been planning a primary activity. It's going to have a bit of a dual theme along the lines of celebrating different cultures meets celebrating primary's birthday. I'm going to teach a song called "Children All Over the World." This was one of my favorite songs as a child. I actually imagined children from all different places in the world when I sang it. I imagined children in Japan, Germany, Tonga, Denmark, France and everywhere else in the world. And then when I was a new mom, the lyricist was my visiting teacher. I adored her and didn't even realize she had written this song until I was moving away from that ward. Awesome, eh?

I was talking to my eleven-year-old daughter about the upcoming activity. She wrinkled her nose, "I don't like that song," she said. I was aghast. How could she not like that song? There are different languages in it. There is a catchy tune. It's so awesome. Couldn't she envision the children from all around the world? (Did I mention it's one of my favorites? Did I mention I knew the lyricist?)

When I asked her why, she replied, "It says, in his own special way, it says that twice. There is no her in it."

So I asked, "Would you feel better if you sang their instead of his?".

"Maybe, but I'm just not sure that's grammatically correct."


I couldn't decide which part I was happier about--her assertion that girls be represented or her desire to use proper grammar.

parental neglect

My baby is 18 months old. I just realized she doesn't have a one-year-old portrait. Do you think this counts?

nothing lost in translation

(image of my dad hiking with some of his grandkids, Summer, 2009)




Do you speak more than one language? I don't. I have studied languages (French, German and Spanish), but I can't consider myself fluent. I understand enough Spanish to know that conjugating irregular verbs hurts my brain. I can carry on interesting conversations in which my sweet mom-in-law speaks melodic Spanish and I answer in English and we understand each other. This is most likely due to the fact that her English is fluent and my Spanish is far, far from fluent.

I digress. Last week, I ventured back to attend church. I have been in survival mode since the back-breaking fall I took down my stairwell a couple of months ago. While I've tried to return (albeit slowly) to the tasks of mothering and carpooling, I was nervous to go to church because it requires sitting and sitting for very long hurts. Anyway, I went and was happy to be among so many who've given so much love and help to my family.

While at church, our home teacher (who happens to be from Russia and is here learning English) approached me. He stopped me and said, "Congratulations on the recent normalization of your health." I smiled at his heartfelt sentiment. I have uttered far sillier translations. I will always remember those words and how they made my entire being smile. While I wish I could agree that my health has completely normalized, I am doing much better.

The last couple of months have been rather unreal, yet all too painfully real. I have images frozen in my mind of all the people that brought us endless kindnesses. I am ridiculously sensitive to pain meds and those first 3-4 weeks were a haze, so the mental slide show of mine is really about all I remember. Images of Andy helping to bed and even to the bathroom (pain quickly got rid of my dignity), friends and neighbors arriving with arms full of food for my family, my parents taking over the daytime care of Audrey and countless trips to school, my mom cleaning bathrooms and floors, my dad repairing a broken pipe in our house, friends bringing me books, flowers and chocolate, and also well-wishing and phone calls from far away. It goes on and on... I wish I could play you this slide show. I wish I could show you how many loving people I know. This world is full of them.

Pass the popsicles

So, spring break is like a trial run for summer. Am I right or am I right?

Except not with sandals and bike rides one day and snow the next. Our spring break was sun followed by snow followed by rain and hail and then more sun and then just for fun--more snow. That's Utah weather. Don't like it? Just wait a bit, it will change any second.

I'm trying to get my game on and have a plan for summer. We don't have any big trips planned. As much as I long to be on a beach somewhere, we'll be doing some house renovations instead. But there are many sunny days ahead and I'm aiming towards a loosely organized plan. Goodness knows we need some book reading, bike riding and splashing/swimming going on this summer.

Do you subscribe to a weekly calendar in the summer? I've tried the Monday-library, Tuesday-park, Wednesday-pool, Thursday-movie, and on and on. It's worked alright, but I'm thinking of taking it week by week this summer and mixing things up. That's living on the wild side, eh? Planning one week at a time instead of the whole summer? Well, it is for me.

What's your plan? Inspire me.

Some of us are ready for spring break...

I'm hoping the snow outside is just an April Fool's joke.