CHRISTMAS BREAK!

Woo hoo!  Christmas break!

We all need it.  I finally feel like we're getting our real lives back, and I feel calmer.  Life is feeling awesome again instead of just ... blah.  That's been how life has felt for weeks:  blah, blah, blah.  This is how my brain interprets stress, I guess, because as you will see, things haven't all been blah-ish around here.  Most of it's been pretty great!

The House

The home projects WORE US OUT.  When we were finished with them all, I thought we'd be like, "It's over, now let's move on to the next thing!"  Instead, we realized how freakin' exhausted we were and we slept and watched TV for weeks.  (Also I got a crummy cold and that didn't help at all.  Lots of sleeping going on.)

But I'll post pictures soon cause the house looks GREAT!  Now that I'm not so tired, I'm really happy with our house and how it turned out.  Next, the basement.  But we're not doing any of that.  (Says a silent prayer of gratitude.)

The Car

Bought a car the day after Turkey Day.  We like the car, but we don't like spending lots of money, so that threw me off for a few days.  We bought a 2014 Subaru Outback with a few thousand miles on it.  We've already put another thousand on it.

If you'd like to know what it looks like, you can Google Image Search it.  It's Cobalt Gray.  Just a dark gray color.  The car is not anything AMAZING.  It looks like every other small SUV/crossover on the market

It does have heated seats, though.  That's pretty amazing.

The Concerts

So many concerts!  Rob's brother and sister came down and we all performed a Christmas program for the ward.  I got to sing the alto part, and I got to perform a song in ASL!  It was awesome.  Then this week was crammed full of music:  piano recital, choir concert, and orchestra concert.  I like music, and I even like Christmas music (when it's December.  Seriously), but I'm kinda Christmas concert-ed out.  I'm opting out of singing with the Ward Choir during our church service Christmas thing and Rob was like, "But you'll miss it!"  I said, "I think you've grossly overestimated how much I like to sing."  Ha!

I would like to mention that we had some awesome friends show up and support us by singing some Christmas songs.  That's real friendship:  Showing up to a piano recital that doesn't involve your own children.  You guys are my heroes!

Work

My work changed policies and asked for a bunch of paperwork, all to be completed NOW!  I missed the deadline.  Like 3 weeks in a row.  One day I was at the office, and I was so stressed that I thought I might cry if one more thing happened, and explained in a panicky voice that I didn't have it all done, and I wouldn't for a while.  But patience pays off, cause it's all done!  I'm happy about that.

Though this was funny:  I needed a local background check, so I went and did that.  When I finally looked at the paper, all the information was correct except for my gender.  Umm, ... whatever.

Christmas

Next week is Christmas!  We haven't put up our tree yet (I know, I know) because I couldn't handle it.  Our house was out of place for a good 2 months, and when we finally put it back together, I ordered that the tree wasn't to be put up until much, much later.  We are borrowing a tiny porch Christmas tree, which is doing it for me but not for the kids.  So within the next few days, the Christmas tree will be up and the kids will be thrilled.

We're doing a homemade Christmas this year, so everyone decided months ago what they wanted to make, and we're all spent a good amount of time on it all.  It adds another layer of Christmas excitement.  I'm just as excited to see what everyone made as I am to give out what I made!  Hurray for creativity!!!


Life is good.

Hi, guys!

Things are a little torn up around here.  The house is nearly put back together, but it seems like the closer we get to that finish line, the more torn up the house gets!  I guess that's how home projects go.

And then there's this:

(Do you like the scribble marks on the license plate?  I'm a photoshop genius!)

Important part:  Rob is fine and the person he ran into is fine, too.  She drove away in her car at the end of all the hubbub, so that's great.  On top of that, Rob was alone, which means we weren't all in the car.  It would have been horrible to have the kids all experience that.  It was on a Sunday, so I was able to go and pick him up, no problem.  Plus, I had been having this feeling that the car was going to be in an accident for a while now (though I try to ignore those kinds of things, because why worry about a future you can't control), so I'd already been thinking things like, "I hope it doesn't happen while I'm driving down the freeway."  "I hope I'm not on my way to a job and then they have to scramble to find an interpreter."  Etc.  I ended up just feeling relieved that it went down the way it did.  There's definitely a lot to be grateful for.

What happened:  Rob didn't see the red light until it was too late.  He slammed on his brakes and slid into a car crossing the intersection.  That car spun around 180 degrees so that her car and our car ended up facing each other.  Rob said she was pretty freaked out, but they were both physically uninjured.  Rob says that the insurance people don't like it when you admit fault, but Rob was like, "Umm, I ran a red light.  It was my fault."  The cop seemed to appreciate Rob's honesty: no investigation necessary before writing out the ticket.

The car may or may not be totalled.  We'll find out in the next few days.  Right now we've got the van that just keeps on going (395,000 miles and counting), and a car rental that we can pick up if/when we need it.  If the Corolla's totalled, we were planning on purchasing a car before summer anyway.  So, this really doesn't feel like the end of the world.  It just is what it is.  Definitely not worth getting stressed about.

Know what's more stressful?  All my furniture shoved into the middle of my living room, like it's one big jigsaw puzzle.  Kinda tired of that.  :)

Thanksgiving is next week and we're excited to be hosting for the first year ever.  I feel like we have reached an Adulthood Milestone.  Congratulations to us!  We're finally all grown up.

Hope you're all doing well!

A few silly stories, courtesy Teancom

Teancom is about the cutest kid ever.  Unfortunately, he knows it.  If I tell Elijah that he's "the cutest," Teancom will stop me and say, "No, Mom.  I'M the cutest."  Why is that, I ask.  "Because I'm the smallest."  Dang it!  Can't fight against that kind of logic.

Here are two funny Teancom happenings.

Danger!

Teancom was forced to stay home from school for 2 days because he got suspended.  Just kidding!  He threw up at school, but felt fine.  The school has a 24-hour sick policy:  Your kid can't attend school until he's been symptom-free for 24 hours.  So for nearly two full days, Tank got to sit on the couch, read books, and watch cartoons.  Little man was in heaven.

By the end of day 2, Tank was squirrelly.  He got pretty upset when he saw the stack of homework awaiting him.  He got through two pages before throwing a colossal fit.  "I can't do it!"  "I don't know what to write!"  Uh huh.  Feeling real sorry for ya, little one.  Also, maybe you should have eaten something for dinner, eh?

Anyways, I had to go pick up the other two kids from piano, and pitching-a-fit Tank had to come along for the ride.  He screamed at me the whole time, though he's too obedient to actually make things difficult.  Hence, it was just hilarious.  (After Miciah, they're all amateurs.)  This is what the car ride was like:

"Turn around!"

"Don't go this way!"

"I want to go home!"

"Turn the car around!"

I was ignoring him until we got to the street that the piano teacher lives on.  And then he pulled out this brilliant line:  "No!  Don't go this way!  It's DANGEROUS!"

Ha ha!  Good thinking, kid!  ...  Don't worry.  I'll be extra special careful.  Just for you.

(By the end of the night, he and I had both crashed by 8:45.  Lovely, lovely night.)

It's an Arctic Bird.  That's good enough.

We went to see Ender's Game in the theater.  It was fine, the kids liked it, that's not the point.  This story happened during the previews and commercials.  

An ad for Coca-Cola came on.  A puffin was trying to open a bottle of Coca-Cola and having a hard go of it.  A daddy polar bear who was sitting with his family nearby saw this poor struggling bird and gave him a tip:  Try opening it with your beak.  The grateful bird opened the bottle, and they all chuckled about it before enjoying their Coca-Colas together as a happy group.

At the end of this ad Rob said, "I don't think that's very believable."  

I kept it going.  "What, you don't think it's believable that a family of polar bears all shared a Coca-Cola with a penguin?"

Rob and I were giggling when Teancom, who was sitting on Rob's lap, interjected, "No!  A PUFFIN!  Not a penguin!"

I died laughing.  Of all the things that I said that were offensively unbelievable, it was that I said it was a penguin and not a puffin?!  Not that polar bears don't drink Coca-Colas.  Not that arctic animals probably don't sit around in campfire-esq get togethers.  Those things are okay.  But dang it, I better get my arctic birds straight!

Teancom loves animals.

The End

All That Was

I feel like I should have written something really important on here this month.  We had enough happen, but I didn't really feel like writing about any of it.  Mainly because every piece of down time that I have feels like it should be used elsewhere.  We have home projects coming out our ears, I'm taking an on-line BYU course that needs to be finished by an approaching deadline, and then there are all the normal things to do.  But so you don't miss out on my entire (exciting) life, here's a sum-up for October:

1 - Miciah Turned 12!

Miciah loves those zebra pajamas.

I feel like I should write something profound about this experience, but profundity escapes me.

I put Miciah's youth activities for church into my iPhone calendar.  Paying attention to church announcements that relate to "youth and parents of youth" is strange enough (that's always been someone else), but putting in 2020 as the "end repeat" for Miciah's Young Women's activities?  That's crazy talk!  2020.  That year isn't even real.

2 - Primary Program at Church
As always, this program was a pleasure, but this year it was especially fun because it was the last year all 3 of our kids will participate.  Miciah turned 12 a week and a half before the program, but was coaxed into participating by a lovely Primary leader who made Miciah feel special and important by giving her the Narrator role.

Afterwards Miciah said she was nervous.  I told her that public speaking gets easier the more you do it.  She said, "I know!  That's why I agreed to be the narrator!"  That's my girl.  Slowly conquering fears.  Woo hoo, Miciah!

She also earned an award at church for 4 years of activities focused on personal growth.  The Bishop told Rob and me congrats after giving Miciah the award, and I said, "We had nothing to do with that.  Miciah is a self-motivated person.  She did it all herself."  Miciah's a great kid.

And our other kids were cute in the program, too.  :)

3 - Fort Lauderdale, FL
For a while now I've been saying to Rob, "I need you to take me somewhere.  Anywhere."  He travels all over the place, and I've been feeling the need to just get up and go.  So when he said that he was staying in a resort spa, right on the beach, and would I like to go with him, the answer was YES!  Yes, I do.

View from the hotel room

It was fun.  Rob and I, we're not much into drinking and partying, so it was pretty tame for us.  We hung out in the hotel room watching the ocean.  We walked along the beach.  We ate at yummy restaurants, including a Greek place that served AMAZING hummus and lamb chops.  We walked through the nearby State Park and saw more spiders than we could count (creepy*).  We toured the historic Bonnet House and saw more orchids than we could count.  We went to church on Sunday.  Just kinda normal-ish stuff, but it was nice to spend time with just Rob doing something different.

This guy was as big as Rob's hand

Yellow orchid house.  I need me one!  Except I'd keep other plants, too.  All kinds.

I did decide that after this trip, I can be done with Florida.  You'd think that I love the place, for as often as I've been there in the last several years.  But really, there are about 49 other states that I'd rather visit before I take a trip down to Florida again.

(*Short aside about those spiders.  At first, we found one, and I was like, "Let's take a picture!"  I love spiders and I think they're fascinating and beautiful creatures.  Then we saw another.  And another.  And another.  And then we realized they were EVERYWHERE.  There were webs within webs.  Webs attached to webs attached to webs.  They were strung across huge spaces, up high, down low, all over the place.  In one small garden area maybe 20x30 feet, we estimated there were literally hundreds of them.  It was like something out of a nightmare.  Not that my nightmares typically include spiders, but after this experience, they might.  We were glad the kids weren't with us, because we nearly freaked out, and we're level-headed adults.  Both of us by the end were ready to get out of there.)

4 - Cuddles Takes a Field Trip
Miciah's science teacher, Mr. Ryan, is TERRIFIED of snakes.  The other teachers tease him about it and do things like put fake snakes in the fridge next to his lunch, just to hear him scream.  I think that's hilarious.  Miciah loves Mr. Ryan and she tells me stories almost every day about all the funny things he says.  She came home one day and told me about his pet lizard.  I then suggested that we could bring in our adorable snake and the class could watch him eat.  Miciah thought that was a great idea.  Since this seemed science-related, I told Miciah to ask Mr. Ryan if that would be okay.  Mr. Ryan freaked out just at the thought of a snake being in his classroom, but he agreed to it if another teacher, Mrs. Stokes, would keep Cuddles in her room.

So Rob brought the snake in at the start of the day, so all the classes could at least see him.  Miciah and the teachers had fun with him.  With Mrs. Stokes' blessing, Miciah brought Cuddles to another class, wearing him around her neck, all casual, like this was something she does every day.  The whole class gasped in shock, as expected, and then this other teacher kinda flipped out.  "Miciah, what are you doing?"  "Uh, bringing my snake to class?"  "No, really.  What are you DOing?"  Miciah smiled, the class laughed, and the teacher's voice kept rising in alarm.  Shortly after, Mrs. Stokes entered the room laughing her head off.  "You should have seen your face!"  Ah, middle school is fun.

We came in at the end of the school day and Mr. Ryan's and Mrs. Stokes' classes got to see Cuddles eat a few mice.  The Principal even came in to watch.  My favorite part was when I brought the snake around for everyone to touch, before we started feeding time.  The kids were generally a little timid, but the adults were jumpy!  I always get a kick out of that, since I know how gentle Cuddles really is.  And I have to hand it to Mr. Ryan, he stayed in the classroom and watched Cuddles eat.  For someone who flinches at the mention of a snake, I thought that was remarkably brave of him.

5 - Balance seems achievable
Things seem to be evening out lately.  Rob travels some, and we make it work on the home front.  I work some, and they manage without me.  All the kids seem happy and healthy.  They seem to be doing well in school.  They have friends, and they are good friends with each other.

I no longer feel so torn up, like I'd been feeling for a while.  Things seem good, like this is how things are supposed to be.  I like work, and I like that it doesn't consume me.  I like being home with the kids most evenings, and talking to them and playing with them and getting to know them better.  I like taking classes towards my bachelors, but I like taking it slowly.

Things seem do-able.  Balance seems like it's out there for us, and we're not too far off!

6 - Stuffed Bell Peppers
The great part about having a garden is you have to figure out new ways to use the same old foods.  For instance, I am in love with bell peppers, so we planted 5 plants this year.  In previous years we planted a few less plants and got next to nothing.  This is because apparently rabbits love to eat young bell pepper plants.  This year we planted more AND put a little mesh fence around the garden and viola!  Way freakin' too many bell peppers for me to single-handedly eat with ranch dip.

The upshot is we found this amazing recipe, and the kids love it.

The last harvest of peppers, right before the first frost

Try it.  (Oh, and if you do try it, make extra of that sauce.  It's the best part.)

7 - Miciah, again
This post is kinda mostly about Miciah, and I feel like I could write a lot more about her.  She has really been stepping up and taking charge of her life and her schedule.  For example, she connected with our library branch's newly hired teen librarian, and she's been attending all the events there.  This means that once or twice a week Miciah is attending a free library function.  Miciah loves it, the librarian loves it, and I love it!  The librarian just so happens to be a lovely person whom I know: she's also a sign language interpreter! It's a small world, eh?

One of the events Miciah attends is Sign Language Club for an hour a week.  I told Miciah that every time she goes to the library, she has to sign at least one sentence to the librarian.  It's fun for the both of them, and fun for me to help think of sentences for her.

Another event she attended was a one-time event.  Teen Fear Factor.  Miciah got further than she thought she would in the competition.  She ate some really random stuff, but nothing too disgusting.  She was out when she nearly puked after drinking some coconut drink something or other.  It was like a clear liquid with coconut chunks suspended throughout it.  The winner ate dried worms and bugs and stuff.  Eww.  Miciah's sentence that day was I DON'T-WANT EAT GROSS FOOD.  (That's how ASL is written, FYI.  It's called gloss.  You write down the signs in all caps.  It ends up sounding like broken English, mostly because ASL doesn't have 'to be' or a lot of those smaller words that we think are necessary for meaning, but really aren't.  Like that ASL sentence I wrote:  I DON'T-WANT EAT GROSS FOOD.  Did you have any trouble understanding it without the 'to' in there?  No.  You didn't.)

I really like that Miciah has found a place outside of school and church where she feels comfortable, and I like that this adult is a wonderful person who is great with kids and just so happens to know sign language!  Awesome, awesome awesome.

(I would like to mention that my favorite sentence that I've taught to the kids is one that I taught Tank the other day:  I WILL KILL YOU.  Something about watching a cute little boy sign that with a smile on his face is freakin' adorable.  Rob was thrilled that I taught him such an uplifting sentence.  I just giggled.  (Tank is actually pretty good at sign language, and he remembers stuff.  He'll sign to me when I'm on the phone, and he's usually spot on.  Miciah has taken to signing random sentences everywhere she goes.  And Elijah.  Elijah just makes up signs, pretending they mean something, and this really, really crawls under my skin.  Sign or don't sign, but don't make crap up.  It's a language, kid!  If you wanna use it, learn the words!))

...  And that's life here!

Life Decisions - Should I Stay or Should I Go?

After falling in love with the Upper Peninsula, I started trying to figure out how we could include some U.P. goodness in our future.  Rob thought I was crazy because I say about every 10 minutes, "We could move to Florida / New York City / South Dakota / China / Maine / (fill in the blank - anywhere except the Southwest, which doesn't interest me in the slightest)."  This time, though, I super, duper mean it.  The U.P. was magic and I want a piece of it.  My wandering heart found a home.

Rob said that he was uninterested in the idea of a summer/vacation home.  He said, and I quote, "It's all or nothing."  "Fine," I replied, "Let's go for all.  Let's move up there."  Rob was pretty shocked to hear me say that, since the U.P. gets something like 120 inches of snow, and I don't love winter as a general rule.  It's cold, and I don't do cold very well.

But the obstacles to living in the U.P. aren't small.  I spent weeks trying to figure out a workaround, but in reality, there isn't one.  I came to that conclusion on my own, without Rob needing to talk me down.  I broadened my search to include other parts of Michigan, but the more we talked and dreamed and thought, the more it just still didn't make a lot of sense.  As the reality of this started to sink in, Rob said, "I know you really wanted to move up there, but, ..."  I cut him off.  "I'm sorry.  You forget how this came about!  I said I was interested in having the U.P. in my future in some way.  YOU'RE the one that said a vacation home or spending SOME of our time up there was unacceptable.  YOU said all or nothing.  You forced my hand."  Rob smiled and knew he'd been beat.

We then went through the list of other options:  Move somewhere else.  Move to another part of Cincinnati.  Move to the same area of Cincinnati, just a bigger house.  Build our own home.  Etc., etc.  Since Rob is not tied to any particular place with his job, and since our income is in a nice range now, the options are almost endless.  But the closer we got to saying, "Alright, let's make a change," the more we just weren't sure why we should.  Our kids don't care - they like what they already have.  And honestly, so do Rob and I.

So, the emotional uprooting is over, and that feels nice.  We're staying put.

Last week we cemented the deal with a pinkie swear and a hefty home project purchase.  Part of the obstacle to moving is that the house needs some work.  Currently our neighbor is fixing the roof.  We've purchased new carpet (though it won't be installed until Thanksgiving week).  We tore the wood paneling off the boys' room's walls, and we're putting it back together.  (Apparently the Secret Passageway was our gateway drug into home improvement projects.)  And the kicker, decided on last week:  Water-proofing our basement.  We have mold problems, occasional water through the foundation when it rains, humidity issues, and a wall that is cracked and bowing in the middle so badly that it looks like it could cave in at any moment.  We didn't know any of those things about the basement when we bought the house - the cracked wall was hid by wood paneling.  In fact, we were unaware that the house was a fixer-upper at all.  We were first time home buyers, and the market was different back then.

Anyways.  That's that.  After the basement is dry, we'll go ahead and remodel it, finish it up (rather, we'll most like pay someone else to do it).  It'll increase our living space, give Miciah a real bedroom, and Rob an office.  So a year from now it'll all be finished and we'll be enjoying the fruits of all those tens of thousands of dollars.

...  And then I'll start planning my summers in the U.P.  ...

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

(I'm experimenting in this post with putting the pictures before what I'm talking about in the text.  Let me know what you think.  I'm not sure I'm a fan.)

We camped.  And let me tell you, if you want to go camping, then the Upper Penninsula is your place!  There are more places to camp than places not to camp, I swear.  Pick a spot.  Just don't assume it'll have indoor plumbing, electric hook-ups, or running water.  I was actually really impressed with Miciah, who used the bathroom facilities first.  She came back and excitedly declared that the bathroom was actually pretty nice!  "I can do this," she said.  I assumed, then, that it was actually pretty nice.  No, it was a permanent shack built over a port-a-potty.  On my first visit to that same facility, I smiled and said out loud to myself, "I love my daughter."

We fished.  I was previously unaware that Rob actually knew how to fish.  He'd told me so before, but I assumed he meant, like, he can put a hook in the water just like I can.  No, no.  The man has fishing skills.  He knows how to do things related to fishing that I didn't even know were things you'd need to know how to do.  I was impressed.  (And also surprised that 13 years into marriage I'm still finding out new things about my husband.)  

We ate some fish.  The kids insisted that they keep a few fish to cook and eat.  This was funny because the fish they caught were best measured in millimeters.  And when it came right down to it, they had a hard time stomaching the actual killing and eating process.  Still, Rob cleaned and cooked two microscopic blue gill.  Everyone got a taste.  I just died laughing.  All that work for a few bites of average-tasting fish?  In fact, the whole fishing thing was hilarious to me.  I kept saying to Rob, "You think this is worth it, right?  ...  Okay, then."  Fishing is kinda fun and relaxing.  Fishing with kids is markedly less so.  But they all loved it.

We chased waterfalls.  On a day-long voyage that included singing that waterfall song while our kids listened perplexedly, we went to as many local waterfalls as we could shove in.  We saw a lot of the area that way, and it was all gorgeous.  By the end of the day, we were pretty exhausted.  We visited 6 or 7 waterfalls in just a few hours.  On the way back to the campsite, we convinced the kids to stop by one last place(s):

Worth it.

We went on a boat tour.  It's pretty clearly stated that the best way to see the rocks was from a boat, and not from the hiking trails or lookouts.  This was our big ticket item and man, was it worth it!  If you ever go, DON'T SKIP OUT ON THIS ONE!  Well worth the $20 a piece ticket price.  (We have lots more pictures of the boat tour, but you can find better pictures with a Google image search.  Which I suggest you do.  Because the place is amazing.)

We hiked.  After the boat tour, I convinced the family that we should take a hike down to the beach where a stream ran into Lake Superior.  I had seen people playing in it, having fun.  No one was playing in Lake Superior, but they were playing in the mouth of this stream.  Plus, the captain of the boat said that we HAD TO go wade in Lake Superior.  He declared the water warm at this time of year.  He is smoking crack.  The water was 65 degrees.  We touched it, just to say we had.  Then we played in the mouth of the stream because it was really warm - like bath water.  Perfect.

We almost got eaten alive by mosquitoes.  On the hike back (3 miles each way), we hiked fast fast fast.  We had, of course, brought bug spray: 25% Deet.  We left the 99% Deet in the car because, don't be silly, we won't need it.  Well, when you're hiking beside a place called Mosquito River, here's a hint:  There might be a lot of mosquitoes.  I was at the front of the pack, hiking super fast.  Every time we stopped, the mosquitoes swarmed.  We re-applied when they were nestling into Teancom's hair while he was walking top speed.  I was super proud of the kids, though, they kept pace with me and didn't complain.  The hike in had taken us a few hours (we stopped for pictures, etc.).  The hike out took 45 minutes.

Here's an after shot:  

Miciah in particular wasn't happy.  "But it was worth it, right?  The beach was awesome?!"  ...  "Suuurre."  They'll thank me later.

We brought home contraband rocks.  You aren't supposed to take these out of the park, and I had intended to give the kids a speech about how we are law-abiding citizens who follow rules and protect our parks, and that's why these rocks will stay right where they are.  And then we got to the beach and saw the rocks.  The pretty, pretty rocks.  They were mesmerizing.  We all found ourselves with our pockets full in about 3 minutes flat.  Those rocks are like The One Ring.  I swear it was impossible not to pick them up.  We all picked our 5 favorite to bring home.

We ate pasties.  As we drove into the U.P., we kept seeing signs saying, "Fresh Hot Pasties."  At first I thought it was a typo - a missing 'r'.  They must be advertising cream puffs and danishes.  After the 3rd sign, I decided that pasties must actually be a thing and that we ought to try them.  (For the record, you don't pronounce it like 'pastries' without the r, but like 'past' with a -y stuck on the end.  Also for the record, you sound like an idiot to the locals when you can't pronounce it right.)  They were pretty good; we went back for seconds.

We ate wild blueberries.  They were everywhere and they were delicious.  Surprisingly so.  We didn't eat the wild mushrooms, though.  It's a shame we didn't know which ones were edible.  You could live off them, there were so many!

We touched Lake Michigan.  On the way back home, we stopped at a rest area that was inches away from the shore of Lake Michigan.  Which means we had to touch the water.  Holy cow, it was like 20 degrees warmer than Lake Superior!  I don't really know how much warmer it is, but the water was really pleasant.  Like, I would have gotten in if we'd had the time, and if you know me, that's really saying something.

We didn't shower for a week.  Sunday - Friday.  When we arrived at Rob's parents' house on Friday night, the kids were ready to just hop in bed.  We forced them all to take a shower first.  Us, too.  It was kinda funny to me because for a few days after that I kept saying to Rob, "What's wrong with my hair?  It just feels wrong.  It's all bouncy and stuff."  And that's when you know you've been camping too long.  :)

Still, I immediately started trying to figure out how to get the Upper Penninsula into my future.  It was kind of magical up there.  We will definitely be going back.

And that's it!  That was all our trip taking for the summer.  We went to the Southern and then the Northern extreme of our country.  Fun!

September

I am happy September is almost over.  If I were to say how I felt about the last 5 weeks, it would be AWFUL.  September was awful.  I can't quite put into words why that is, but I'm so glad it's almost over with.  It seems like I was really struggling, just inside my head.  Nothing went wrong so much as I just felt crazy most of the time.

This is familiar territory, and I hate it.  I fight so so so hard to not go there.  I don't like it there.  It's dark and lonely and empty and cold.  I prefer Happy Tamra Land.  It's like Candy Land - unpredictable and somewhat meaningless, but simple and fun.  Stay in Happy Tamra Land, Tamra!  Play again!

So I'm thrilled to be starting October in just a few days.  I am full of anticipation.  No more Rob traveling for 3 weeks straight, then hyper busy for another 2 weeks.  No more losing my bearings because I'm not sure about life.  No more feeling useless and unsettled and not good enough.  No more lightly simmering anger and frustration.  We can leave all of that in September.

October, I already love you.

No Man's Land

(As a brief preface to this post:  I have decided to dismantle my Random Tamra blog.  The reason I set it up in the first place has gone away, and I'm ready to bring these two parts of my life and writing back together in one place.  Hence, this post is on here instead of over there.)

Recently I have been feeling something that I can't quite define.  I attempted to verbally explain it to Rob, and in the process explain it to myself, but I botched it up.  So, while sitting in a parking lot with an hour of time to kill, I wrote this up.

NO MAN'S LAND

I have become something different, but what it is, I do not know.  Before I was something definite and easily defined.  I was a stay-at-home mom.  There is only one real qualification to meet this definition:  don't work.  Even while I was in school and devoting many hours to my studies, I still called myself a stay-at-home mom.  Going to school didn't give me a paycheck, so I could view it as a trifle, a hobby.  It didn't break the rules.

But now I bring in money.  I leave the home, drive to a location, do my thing, and get paid for it.  I enjoy my job.  A lot.  And I happen to be quite good at it.  But I can no longer pretend to be a stay-at-home mom.  I am not, and I know that.  This was the goal all along, of course - to become an interpreter.  Mission accomplished.  Cheers all around.

And yet every time I think about what this makes me, I cringe.  I am "one of those," then.  I am a working mom.  This seemed simpler before when we "needed" the money (a concept which is quickly losing meaning to me).  It gave my working a purpose, a place of some honor.  Now the driving motivator isn't necessity, so it must be something else.  What?  I ask myself and I know my response:  because I like it.

My own stereotypes of my new category betray me, though.  Is this really something you do because you like it?  Or are you just wanting a bigger house and a fancier car and a better vacation package?  You are greedy, my voice says.  Of course that's not true, I answer back.  I had been looking for something new, and why not get paid for it?  So the life you had before wasn't enough for you, then?  You refused to find contentment in your life.  No.  Your children aren't enough for you?  The kids go to school now!  All summer I worked 12 hours a month.  We took vacations.  I was with them!  And where are you now?  ...  Yeah, you're at work.  Waiting for the next appointment to start and your son is at home sick.  ...  He's sitting on the couch wishing you were there with him.  He asked you to cancel today.  ...  I couldn't cancel.  I told him that.  Because work is too important?  Because I COMMITTED to be there.  You committed to him 7 years ago.  When you gave birth to him.  I don't need this.  So your husband is at home while you do all your important money grabbing.  Enough.  I won't stop.  You haven't resolved this.  I haunt you.

And thus it goes.  This feeling, it's not straight guilt, though clearly there is some there, lurking in dark corners and springing out to catch me when I least expect it.  It's more complicated than that.  There is this sense that I now don't belong anywhere.  I am a working mother who identifies more with the stay-at-home moms, a group I can not even possibly claim membership in.  I have identified as a mother ONLY for all of my adult life.  I chose it.  I wanted it.  Have I now just thrown it away to grab a new title that I don't even like?  Do I now get grouped with workaholics?

My entire being screams, "This is not me!"  But I do not have an answer for what I AM, then.  I am not either Group A or Group B, but I have never heard of a Group C to claim membership in.  So I am stuck, on the fringes of two groups.

It strikes me, now, that this is familiar.  I remember the growing pains of entering the Deaf community.  I remember feeling torn in two, with two distinct groups of friends who literally can't even communicate with each other.  I choose, still, to spend a good amount of my social time with Deaf groups, and yet because I can hear, I am obviously and clearly Hearing.

But I am not Hearing ONLY any more.  I have been told so.  While attending a function recently, there were two separate groups.  I sat down before I realized what was happening, but quickly saw that I was sitting with the majority Hearing group.  The problem was that the only people I knew at this event were the Deafies.  I sat there for a while, watching them signing, wondering what to do.  I didn't know any of them well enough to join the group through a Friendship claim, but I felt that I didn't quite belong in the Hearing seats either.  Finally a friend arrived, saw me sitting in the wrong place and encouraged me to come over.  I mentioned, upon walking over, that the room was in two groups:  Hearing and Deaf.  My friend said, "You belong over here."  "Yes, but I am not Deaf."  The whole group signed at once, "Doesn't matter."  I looked at my friend and protested, "But I am, in reality, Hearing."  "You are not Hearing any more."

Still, I am not Deaf, either.  I am on the fringes of both groups, not quite belonging either place.  There is, though, a third group, a Group C:  Interpreters.  This is my job, then, to belong enough to both groups that I can bridge the gap between them.  And Group C has a well-defined existence, with support groups and meetings and publications.

Where is my motherhood Group C?  I have created my own support group of sorts.  I have asked lightly working mothers that I love and respect, and who "have it all together" how they've made it work, balancing both worlds.  I have received their advice and encouragement.  It's my tiny revolt.  My refusal to belong to a Group B that I dislike.  See?  I say to myself.  There are others like me!  I should feel relieved.  

I should.  I know it.  I really, really should.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, the back story and sum up

At the end of the last school year, Miciah mentioned to her teacher that she liked camping.  The teacher said, "Oh, then I know a place you'd love.  It's called Pictured Rocks."  She then showed Miciah pictures and Miciah came home chatting us up about this place and how we should go and how fun it would be, etc., etc.

Well, I'd never even heard of the place.  Yeah, the pictures looked cool, but where was it?  Michigan?  By Lake Superior?  Umm, big deal.

We looked into it.  There was camping, sure, and hiking, but according to the website, it was cold most of the year, even in summer, and the water was FRIGID.  It said repeatedly, "Don't go in it.  It's dangerous."  And this is from the website that's trying to advertise all the cool features of the Park!  We decided we'd skip any canoeing, kayaking, or swimming ideas we'd previously had, and just do the boat cruise along the shoreline.

In short, this was a trip that we planned for our daughter because she was excited.  Also, because we'd never been there before, in fact we'd never even been into Michigan beyond the Detroit airport (I just assumed Michigan looked like more of Ohio), and because we like going new places.  And the pictures did look pretty cool.

So, with such a simple trip planned, now we were only waiting for the time and money.  Last year it didn't work out, obviously, but this year we decided to go for it!  The Florida trip was awesome, and it didn't cost us much (once Rob's work reimbursed us for mileage, we spent less than $100 out of pocket - for everything), so we had the money left for Pictured Rocks.

IT WAS AMAZING.

I fell in love with it and by the end of the week, I was so sad to leave.  Seriously, I almost cried when we got back to Cincinnati.  Who knew that Michigan's Upper Penninsula was SO GORGEOUS?!  Rob said, "See?  Cincinnati is pretty, too.  With these trees and all the houses and the city."  I looked at him with a pained look on my face and said woundedly, "Please don't ever say that again."  Rob was trying to be funny, but I had hardcore fallen in love with the U.P. and was already trying to figure out how quickly we could get back there.

Not that Cincinnati isn't a lovely place.  I like Cincinnati, and I do think it's pretty here.  But the U.P. spoke to my soul.  There's just ... something about it.  I can't describe it.  But I need that place.

Pictures and a short re-cap to come.  (There isn't much to re-cap.  We drove there.  We camped.  We hiked.  We looked at waterfalls.  We did a boat tour.  We came home.)

Rob's New Calling

Earlier in the summer, Rob was called to be in the High Council.  I wanted to tell you that story.

Note for those of you not in my church: the calling is a fairly "high up" leadership position that requires travel on most Sundays, extra meetings, etc.  People typically keep this calling for years.  It is generally considered to be a calling that requires the sacrifice of a lot of time, and also one that creates some hardship for the family.  So, yeah.  This isn't a pat-yourself-on-the-back type of thing.

Rob and I had a meeting to go to on a Sunday afternoon.  It was a half hour plus drive one way, then an hour long meeting.  We decided to ask some good friends of the family if they wouldn't mind watching the kids for us while we went.  They agreed because they are nice, nice people.  On top of that, when we got back from the meeting, they asked if we wanted to stay for dinner, and since we were staying anyway, why not make a day of it and let the kids swim in the pool.  Everyone needs friends like that.  Who take care of you without thinking it's a big deal.

While we were sitting there by the pool, Rob got a phone call asking if he could meet with the Stake President in, like, an hour and a half.  Uh, ... yes?  You know what our friends did?  They offered to keep watching the kids while we went to yet another meeting!  What great people.

So Rob and I ran home to change and then went to meet with the Stake President.  We kept wondering what he wanted to talk about.  We had a few ideas, but you never know.

President Guffey talked to Rob first.  They figured out that they'd gone to the same mission in Germany, many years apart.  Fun, right?!  And then I was called in, and with Rob and I sitting together, President Guffey asked if Rob would accept, and I would support, a High Council calling.

I immediately thought, "Sure."

And that's kinda funny because of the back story:
Several months back, Rob got a phone call from a member of the Stake Presidency, Jim.  He wanted to talk to Rob.  We only had Jim's voice message to go on, which said basically, "I want to talk to you soon," so we started guessing at what the phone call was about.  Jim is who called Rob to the bishopric years back.  So maybe a bishopric calling again?  Maybe Rob was getting called to the High Council?

At the time, I was just finishing at Cincinnati State.  Rob had barely started traveling for his job.  Elijah was in counseling, for crying out loud, because he wasn't doing well with me being gone from home so much.  It was a stressful time, and I didn't feel like we could handle any more than what we were currently undertaking.

I looked at Rob and said, "If it's a call to the High Council, the answer is HELL NO.  Not just no.  HELL NO, with a finger pointed in Jim's face.  And then a Don't call us, we'll call you.  I don't feel guilty about it in the slightest.  We can't do it and that's that."

Well, Jim's call had been about something else.  Something pretty insignificant.  It wasn't a problem at all.

Now flash forward to us in the meeting with President Guffey.  This calling that I had been ready to say, "HELL NO," to ... now it felt just fine.

I looked at President Guffey and said, "How did you do that?"  I explained about the timing, about how I would have said no at probably any previous time in my life until right this minute.  How we'd been really stressed and things weren't going smoothly, and now things were going great and we knew we could take on more again.  "So, how did you do that?"

President Guffey smiled humbly and pointed to the sky.  "Well, He had a hand in it."  I smiled, too, and shook my head.  The timing of it all amazed me.

On top of that, President Guffey read a passage of scripture that has personal significance to Rob.  Again I thought, "How did he do that?"

So, that's the story of Rob's calling.  It's been about 2 months since then, and so far his calling hasn't been too bad.  He's able to be home in the mornings to help us get ready for church.  He often gets to sit with us in church for the first hour before he has to leave for his next round of meetings.  And he's usually home within an hour of us arriving back from church.  Umm, ... Yeah.  That'll work.

Teancom Turned 7! or The Piñata Saga

Teancom has a birthday every year.  This year we invited over the Dean's for the celebration.  They were gracious and bought him a gift, which wasn't the intent of inviting them over.  Still, it's a fun gift:

You build the board yourself!  The little guys are adorable!  It has a Lego dice!

While Scott was playing the game with the kids, it became clear why he chose this particular game:  So he could play it!  ...  Isn't that what we all do with our children's toys?  (In unrelated news, I purchased Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3DS for the kids.)

Anyway, the point of inviting the Deans was to give them the scrapbook that the whole family put together about our St. Augustine vacation.  The Deans told us they would not accept any gifts as a thank you, but we thought that surely a homemade dinner (from the kids!) and scrapbook would be fair.  :)  The kids were thrilled to do both.  It was great.

Now for the birthday party part.  Tank really wanted a piñata.  While sitting on my lap at church one day a few weeks before his birthday, Tank said, "Dad said I can't have a piñata for my birthday until I'm 8."  "Okay."  "But I really want a piñata."  I thought about this.  I recalled several different friends who had made a basic piñata for their children's birthdays.  I mean, you can do crazy awesome piñatas (like this homemade unicorn), but let's be honest, that bar was set pretty high, and I'm a perpetual craft underachiever.  Still, we could do a basic oval (balloon) shape.  So I said, "We could make a piñata, if you want."  "I don't want to make one.  I want that one I saw at the store."  "Well, Dad already told you no."  After a few minutes of silence, Tank said, "Okay, I want to make one."  Good choice.

He really wanted a monkey.  A monkey!  I told him that could be Piñata version 2.0.

So we found online instructions.  We set everything up.  We brought the whole family together.  And ... the basic shape took about 3 seconds to complete.  I was left thinking, "Well, now what?"  We decided to just go for it.  So here is our finished product:

Notice, it looks more like a bear.  We tried to convince Tank that he really, in actuality, wanted a teddy bear piñata.  He was determined to have a monkey, though.  We told him that this didn't even really look like a monkey.  He said he didn't care.  So, monkey bear it is.

Rob did make that rope tail himself, though.  I was previously unaware that 1- rope was something you could make at home and 2- that Rob had said skills.

And, whether it looked like a monkey or a bear, or some freaky combination of both, it was way fun to hit down!

All in all, a birthday win!

The Laptops Are Here!

My Excel spreadsheets have been updated and are now backed up on Dropbox.  I can sense a new obsession with making sure my important files are constantly backed up.

The kids have played Moshi Monsters.

I cleaned out my e-mail inboxes.  Goodness knows that's no fun on a smart phone.

I have thanked my brother about a billion times, and intend to thank him a few more times yet.

...

Blog posts to come, complete with pictures!

FYI

Our laptop died a few weeks ago. Virus. Which is interesting because of course we have virus protection. Whatever.

Anyways, I called my IT professional brother who determined that I was out of options on my own. If I wanted to save the data (which I desperately did- I have the last year of pictures not backed up, and Excel spreadsheets that are like children), then I'd need to take the computer to a professional. He then casually mentioned that he could do it in a few hours if he had it. I said, "Great. I'll mail it to you!" Having an IT professional who also loves me look at my computer and fix it for the price of shipping? Yes, please.

So I've been maintaining everything with the Internet on my iPhone (Rob was out of town for most of this time, so his laptop wasn't available). I can do a lot that way, but writing a blog post isn't something easily done with a touch screen keyboard. Plus, my pictures aren't here.

Anyways. The laptops are in the mail on their way back to me. I say laptops because when I grumbled about my piece of trash laptop that I've never liked since day 1, and which the kids use to play Internet games and accidentally click on questionable links, IT Brother offered me a laptop that he had just sitting around. Umm, yes. I would like your free laptop. So he's sending back the fixed one which will become the kids', and then the other one will be mine. So I can look at my Excel docs without asking the kids to get off their games. And I can write blog posts even when they have their laptop in the basement, streaming Netflix. That's a win-win.

Until next week, then.

Love Will Save You

While I was tucking in the boys for bed the other night, Tank grabbed several of his stuffed animals and put them close by his body.  That kid is always surrounded by a halo of stuffed animals.  And this is what he said:

"I need them close to me, to keep me safe.  That's what people say: "Love will save you."  I don't know how love saves you, though.  How does love keep you safe, Mommy?"

This is one of my pet peeves, actually.  Love is good at many, many things, but physically protecting you when someone is trying to kill you?  I'd prefer Personal Defense Training, or maybe a loaded gun.  Love is a little weak on those saving your physical life details.  (Reference my dislike for the whole premise of the Harry Potter series.)  

So what should I say to my adorable 7-year-old who clings to his stuffed animals at night because he wants to feel safe and secure?  

"Love makes us feel good inside and helps us feel warm and happy."

I figured he'd go for that.  I was ready to elaborate on any number of warm fuzzy details.  But he wasn't having it.

"Yes, but how do these stuffed animals keep me safe?  If someone was trying to hurt me, how do they save me?"

I imagined his 7-year-old brain's probable thought process.  Maybe something like this:  "People have told me that love will save you.  I love these stuffed animals and they love me.  If someone is trying to hurt me, they will magically come to life and become vicious, loyal attack penguins who take out my enemies, I bet.  Except, I've never seen them do that.  So if they don't, then how does love save anyone when they're in danger?  ...  I must ask my mother."

So, again, what should I say to my adorable 7-year-old who clings to his stuffed animals at night because he wants to feel safe and secure?

I told him the truth.  "They don't, Teancom.  Love doesn't save you like that."

And you know what?  He didn't cry.  I think he was more comfortable with that answer than if I'd made up some story about how stuffed animals magically keep you safe through the night.

But what I really wanted to tell him was about how love saves us every day.  I wanted to, right then, talk about how God loved each of us so much that He sent his only son to save us all.  I wanted to tell him that love makes us humble enough to listen to each other, to heal wounds and to be healed of wounds.  I wanted to tell him that love for my family, and from my family, saves me every day.  How, without it, I wouldn't keep on going.  (I'd like to be that strong person who keeps going anyway, but I'm just not.  I'd stop.  I wouldn't even feel bad about it.  I'd just stop.)  I wanted to tell him how giving birth to Miciah and becoming a mother was the loving journey that saved my life and made me the person I am today.  I wanted to tell him how my loving parents gave me my life of happiness and security.  I wanted to tell him about all the people who love him and who do everything they can to keep him safe and happy and secure.  I wanted to tell him about his father who is the most loving person I've ever met, who selflessly loves and keeps on loving and keeps on loving, without counting the cost, and how this has saved me, and him, countless times.  I wanted to tell him that love DOES save us, in ways that are more important than stopping a speeding bullet!

But I just kissed his cheek and said good night, thinking those things were probably over his head, and that's probably not what he was asking anyway.

...  

I missed my moment.  Love is magic.  Powerful, powerful magic.  Without love, all would be lost.

...

I'll tell him, and I'll show him, and I'll prove it to him.  Every day.

St. Augustine Trip, part 4

Legoland

The universe spoke to the Deans and that's how this Florida trip came about.  Some time early this year I had this conversation with Elijah, out of the blue:
Elijah: "Mom, can we go to Legoland Florida in Orlando?"

Me:  "No."

Elijah:  "But I really want to go this year."

Me:  "Elijah, we took a trip to Florida a few years back.  We're not going again this year."

Elijah:  "How about next year?"

Me:  "I don't think I want to take a trip down to Florida just for Legoland, no."

Elijah:  "But, ..."

Me:  "I just don't think it's going to happen, buddy.  Sorry."

Truth be told, we had other big plans for the summer.  We hadn't told the kids yet, because it was still in planning stages, but it was going to be great.  Then, not two weeks after the above conversation took place, the universe intervened.  The Deans asked me if we'd like to go down to their beach house in St. Augustine.  I wasn't sure where St. Augustine was, but when they mentioned it was close to Orlando, it hit me:  The universe loves Elijah.

And our entire family loved Legoland.  It was perfect for the kids' ages, and there were even things for Rob and I to participate in.  

Rob's favorite was the roller coasters.  He loves roller coasters.

I didn't ride even one.  Elijah said, "I'm sorry you didn't get to go on any with us, Mom."  I answered, "Yeah, don't be sorry."

My favorite was the building station.  The kids built cars and ran them down ramps.  

I built a Duplo house because there weren't any little kids using the area.

The kids earned their Legoland Drivers Licenses.  

Teancom's "I'm so cool" face

And there were lots and lots of statues and things made out of Legos.  Here's Tank sticking his hand into Darth Maul's mouth:

And the fam standing under Albert Einstein's nose (notice the location of Miciah's hand):

There were lots of rides, of course.

Then this entire section of "America" built out of Legos.  

Loved, loved, loved that area.

It was just a perfect day.

Home

And then we went home.  We made a stop in Gainesville, Florida for more business.  This ended up being fun because a friend just moved to the area, and we got to see him for dinner.  The kids, however, were drained after our trip and all the sun.  They were uber grumpy.  They swam, watched TV, and whined about life.  I tried not to poke my eyeballs out.

When Rob finished his meetings at 1:00 pm, we started our drive back.  The kids insisted we drive the whole way home, as I've previously reported, and that was it.

The end

What's Left of Summer

Vacation re-caps be damned.  What is my life, one big focus on vacations?  After I finish the St. Augustine report, I have to tell you about the trip we took last week.  It was kind of on a whim and it was lovely.  And we're already thinking about next summer's epic cross-country vacation.  But I don't want to talk about any of that right now.

Rob has been out of town all week.  This is fine, his job requires travel and we knew that when he accepted it.  And it hasn't even been a bad week.  But it certainly changes things around here.  Not only is he not around to help and play with the kids, but he's not around to motivate me to do things.  I mean, I don't need a "motivator," but just having him around makes me more eager to do even simple things like getting up, going to sleep on time, exercising, and eating regularly.  He is so intertwined in my life that I don't know what it looks or feels like without him in it.

Sounds pathetic, no?  :)

Anyways, the kids start school the day after Labor Day.  We have one more quick trip to take on Labor Day weekend, but other than that we're kinda laying low.  Normally this is the time when we run around town doing all sorts of fun things because all the other kids are back in school and we get the run of every place we go.  But this summer has felt busy, in a good way, and I don't really want to do any of those things.

I'm determined, though.  Next week we'll do a few "lasts."

The kids have been mostly getting along for the last of summer.  Miciah alternates between being the awesome big sister who teaches the boys new crafts and the slightly awkward 11-year-old who does things without thinking that make her brother cry.  "Miciah, why did you dump water on his head?"  "Because I wanted to."  "It's bed time.  And he obviously didn't like it."  "Well, sorry."  or  "Miciah why did you hit him with a towel in the stomach?"  "I did it the first time and he laughed, so I did it again and he cried and ran to his room."  "Well, clearly that means it hurt him."  Miciah shrugs.

Elijah alternates between being clingy and mopey at one moment and hyper and annoying the next.  "Hey, Tank, can I hit you on the shoulders?"  "No."  hit.  hit.  hit.  "Ow!"  ...

Tank is pretty steady, cause that's his personality.  But I'm getting tired of him asking for freezer pops all the time, like he just can't handle life without getting something "out of the freezer," as he likes to ask.  "Can I have something out of the freezer?"  "No."  "But, Mom, I WANT something out of the freezer."  "I don't really care.  You've already had something out of the freezer today."  "But I've been playing outside and I need something cold!"  "Have some water."  "I don't want water!"  "How about an ice cube?"  "No!  I need something out of the freezer!"  "An ice cube counts."  "MOMMMM!"

Clearly I miss that Rob fellow.

Okay, I feel better now that that's out of my system.  Hope you're all having a great August!

St. Augustine Trip, part 3

July 6

St. Augustine has a cool old fort that is pretty famous.  Turns out that it costs quite a bit to tour it.  So we took the family to another fort on the island (or, across the river, I guess) called Fort Matanzas.  Matanzas means "slaughters".  Plural.  Gotta love history.

Anyway, this itty bitty fort was adorable and we had a great time looking around and learning the history and such.  What most interested and shocked me is that the military men who would have lived at the fort weren't men at all, but young boys.  Seriously, 6- to 9-year-old boys, with a single older boy in charge.  That's alarming.

kids helping raise the Spanish army's flag

We stuck around after our tour to watch them fire off the cannon.  My favorite part was Rob taking a video of the fairly unspectacular event.  Rob took a billion and one pictures while we were on vacation.  His attitude towards pictures and mine have reversed in recent years.  I take very few any more, and Rob has decided to take a ton!  This sometimes annoys me, like when he insists on taking 40 useless pictures of the fireworks and gets way crappy results.  "Rob, our kids aren't even in those pictures."

Anyways, in the video you can hear me grumbling that he's taking the video.  You can hear our kids trying to hold on for a few more minutes, even though they are bored and losing patience.  Then, right before the cannon goes off, the camera gets really shaky and it's hard to watch.  The cannon goes off, and you see a tiny puff of smoke and a bang.  And at the very end you hear Scott Dean say, "Wasn't that worth it?"  Classic.

After that we split up.  Elijah and I chilled at the beach house while Rob, Miciah, and Tank went to the Ripley's Believe it or Not museum.  Miciah in particular really liked the museum and I really liked my nap.  Win for all.

Miciah holding her hand up in front of the largest human hand ever - 12 inches

That night we walked along the ocean during sunset, which is the reason that beaches exist.

July 7
I was determined to see the sunrise.  It rises over the ocean.  And even though I initiated the idea, when I woke up, I knew it was a no go for me.  My sunburn was so painful that I hadn't slept well and I needed the extra few hours.  On top of that, walking was still a challenge, particularly when I woke up.  So the family went without me and Rob took 150 pictures of the event.  I will now post all of them:

Just kidding.  But he did take 150 pictures.  He said, "I wanted you to feel like you'd experienced it a little bit."  Umm, thanks?  I guess it's cute.

Anyways, we finally have arrived at the reason for our trip:  Church.  You think I'm joking, but I'm not.  The Deans spend most of their time in Cincinnati, but the remainder is spent in St. Augustine.  A good number in their congregation are Deaf.  They thought to invite us down because they thought I would like the immersion kind of experience that church would offer.

And they were totally right!  I loved, loved, loved it!  First off, there was this great interpreter who took the first hour.  Her husband is Deaf, and she is a professional interpreter by trade.  I was drooling.  Next came an all-ASL Sunday School meeting!  The least ASL of us at least sim-comed (signed and spoke at the same time) while she got out her own thoughts.  I even got to make a few comments in ASL!  Heaven.  Then, in Relief Society, the woman conducting was just speaking at first, but then when the 1 Deaf person of the group entered the room, she started immediately sim-coming!  She then interpreted the meeting.

I know that some of you won't really appreciate how meaningful this is, but just know that all this is amazing.  These are things that we try to teach people - respect for the Deaf Community.  The importance of equal access.  Doing your best.

Then, the icing on the cake is that right after church a Deaf man got baptized.  The meeting was conducted in ASL and then voice interpreted!  So cool.  At one point, there were 2 different interpreters going!  The blessing was signed, but the signer had his back to the audience.  The interpreter voiced for her husband, and then another interpreter took the English and signed it back into ASL for the Deaf in the audience!

One of the best parts, for me, is that all throughout the day there were maybe 5 different interpreters, and none of them was me.  I don't mind interpreting, but it's a fact of life that here in Cincinnati there are scarce LDS interpreting resources.  Now that I am formally trained and currently working as an interpreter, I am at the front of the pack.  I don't mind this (if I did mind it, I wouldn't have become an interpreter.  I knew it would happen.  It was part of the plan), but it's sometimes a little taxing.

It was awesome to see such a vibrant support group.  There were Deaf men with hearing wives, some of whom were interpreters by trade.  There were CODAs (Child of Deaf Adult).  There were hearing people who could sign.  There were parents of Deaf children who were proficient in ASL.  And the entire ward was supportive and understanding.  It was just really, really cool.

... to be continued.  1 last leg to go.