Friday, April 30, 2010

‘more room’ is the name, organization’s the game

I took the opportunity to re-organize some things while unpacking at the new house. I at least took the chance to make a list of things that needed to be done. Since I’m not quite ready to share pictures of our new house in all its glory – I thought that I would share two little things that I’ve been working on in the mean time. Two bits of organization that make life in our home so, so much better.

This is our mud room. Okay. It isn’t really intented to be a mud room. But I’ve always wanted one, so that’s what we call it. This is the room adjacent to our kitchen – those fab shelves were existing. Our back door is here – the one that we use the most – and we have some shelves and baskets on the other side of the room where we keep shoes, strollers, outside toys and all our bags (diaper bag, camera bag, school bag, church bag, etc.). When we moved in, I had no idea what I would use these shelves for. It wasn’t until I realized how completely wacky the kitchen cabinets were, that inspiration struck. So … welcome to my makeshift pantry. My favorite things? My pasta jars, of course. Love those straight lines. I also use this extra shelving for all of our music (sheet music, music books, guitar tabs, etc.), Brian’s old school books, cook books, etc.. My coupon box is here, along with our ‘calendar slot box’ where we keep bills to be paid, etc.. On the other side of this built-in unit is my craft room – which, of course, is so not ready for sharing.


These are a portion of Brian and Ammon’s Transformers. Each Transformer has its own box – and there are at least four boxes in each of these bins. This is a hobby that the boys share ... sans me. I have learned the names of all of these ‘robots in disguise’ – and even learned to ‘fix’ a few of them after they have been stepped on. However, lots of them have multiple pieces once you figure in all the weapons, missiles, boosters, energon stars, etc.. I got tired of wasting limited time trying to figure out who went with whom ... after I unearth the bits from the bottom of my foot. So – for Happy Home Feeling (or Family Home Evening) a couple of weeks ago, Brian and I sat down and went through each of these babies – one by one – and I typed up their names, models (Generation 1, 1st movie, 2nd movie, etc.) and what extra somethings that they have. I added their ‘symbol’ – either Autobot or Decepticon – and printed them up on clear labels. I try to keep the boxes in some type of order in the bins – but that’s a little less realistic. We try to keep all the Autobot Aerialbots and Decepticon Constructicons together at least, because they are all part of a set. But, whatever order they're in – unsurprisingly – my boys are more than satisfied.

Voilà. Craziness managed. On to the next.

birds of a feather

This week has been a hazy one here for the Thomases Three. Looking back on it – the week has completely flown by. And yet, as I recall, each moment seemed like an eternity. I’ve yet to figure out how that works.

My allergies continue to overpower with a vengeance. I’m trying not to complain too much, though, because – after two days of absolute quarantine – I can now see, breathe and hold my head up. My eyes – after last night’s flare-up, anyway – are no longer swollen and fiery. My headache has kept itself at bay for a day or so. All in all – I’m a happy indoor camper.

Ammon has two new favorite phrases. He now refers to just about everything as, ‘this guy’. “I want this guy”, “Who’s this guy”, “What about this guy”. He also whispers – ever so quietly – “It’s okay”. When doing this, he usually puts his finger over his mouth and says, “Shh” first. Of course, it looks like he’s picking his nose, instead. For instance, last night – when driving home and looking for the moon – he kept saying, “Moon, where’d it go?” Once he found it, he whispered, “Shh. It’s okay.”

Ammon and I have only ventured out once this week. I hate keeping him cooped up inside, but my head just can’t handle it. After only two minutes, I’m clawing at my face and my nose resembles a faucet. But the weather has been so nice. It's been fairly cool during the day with a nice breeze. In this part of the country, it's u.n.h.e.a.r.d of for it to be this late in the year and still be – even remotely – nice outside. Usually, we're alreay wishing for death. So – after we could stand it no longer – we went outside for a bit on Wednesday. While Ammon played, I decided to tackle the brick encasing around our gravel driveway. It looks like those bricks were just thrown down willy-nilly quite a long time ago – and they look pre-etty janky. Blame it on the OCD, but – I’ve been wanting to straighten them up and turn them on their sides so that the gravel is better contained. This will require me to push back all the gravel, dig up the bricks, dig a new trench and, in some places, reroute the driveway a bit. Obviously, this is one of those ‘it’ll take a while’ jobs. That afternoon, I finished one short side. And, I – of course – immediately regretted it. Hence the aforementioned ‘two-day quarantine’. We unfortunately skipped playgroup yesterday – but, I’m feeling a tad better today. And … the driveway already looks better.

Ammon and I had a visitor this morning from a member of my family that I’ve never met. My grandpa’s cousin lives in Abbeville – just down the road from us, in fact – and she stopped by to see us this morning. Our house was a wreck, Ammon was in his jammies with a juice mustache and graham crackers caked up at the corner of this mouth, and I was still in my jammies with bed-head and Vicks under my nose. Needless to say, we looked like a hot mess. But, it was surely nice of this sweet lady to stop by. She brought some cookies and commented on how nice we had the place looking – especially the yard. Of course, this made me feel good … because we have worked very hard to make this house our home.

Getting used to the different layout of this house has been tricky at times. Having farther to go for certain things is hard to remember sometimes. For instance, at our old house, when you were in the shower and forgot that you were out of something, it was easy to just jump out and get a new something from under the sink. Because everything was on top of everything else – it wasn’t a very far trip. But now, we have a linen closet. And it’s out in the hallway outside the bathroom. A much farther trip. Sometimes, I still do jump out of the shower and make the cold dash for the closet. I especially remembered to do it last week when I had forgotten to put more shampoo in the shower. Because, one shower prior, Brian’s shampoo had done some serious damage to my hair. For some reason, I forget to restock supplies in the shower right away – like my body wash. Yes. Sometimes I make a run for it. But, sometimes I’m just too darn lazy. That’s why today I’m reeking to high heaven of a ‘classic masculine scent’.

In the camellia bush outside of our dining room window is a tiny little bird’s nest. Ammon and I sit and watch it sporadically throughout the day. There is a little momma bird that stays in the nest most all of the time. Do you see her? We’ve – of course – named her and the daddy bird: Penelope and Henry. Ammon is fascinated with them – always saying, “Shh” when we get close so we don’t scare them away. We’ve watched Penelope feather her nest – adding little twigs and pieces of paper and straw. Just the right touches to make it just right. We’ve watched her fondly eyeing her eggs before she fluffs up her bottom feathers and snuggles down in her nest. We watched her carefully eye any other bird that gets too close. We’ve watched her carefully survey her surroundings and make sure all is well and safe before she leaves her nest. We’ve listened to her quietly chirp and sing to no one in particular, clearly content with her lot in life – I tell Ammon that she’s singing lullabies.

As I’ve watched Penelope, I’ve marveled at the ‘mothering instinct’. She is a bird. I am a human being. And yet – aren’t we, as mothers, so similar?

As mothers, we nurture, teach and protect. We safeguard our homes from the dangers of the outside world. These same things that sweet little Penelope does to her nest, I am asked to do with my home. For my family. It isn’t something that is ‘easy’ for me, I’ve found. It isn’t something that ‘comes naturally’, so much as I would like it to. I have to work at it. Every day. Every hour. Even every minute. As much as I love my home and my family – as much as I love my child – this ‘calling’ has been a difficult one for me to fully grasp. I am eternally grateful to be a mother – and yet I often feel that I am nothing more than a babysitter. A very cheap babysitter. And an unwanted one, at that.

I’ve quietly watched as others have taken ‘better care’ of my child. I’ve quietly wondered why he listens to others and not to me. I’ve quietly wondered why he prefers his dad. I dealt with Postpartum Depression for over a year after Ammon was born. I’ve been doing much better for the last six months or better – but, recently the fear that I might be regressing a little has been ever present.

I’ve decided that that isn’t the case. In the last several weeks I have had many experiences that have put my relationship with my husband and child into sharper focus. I’ve decided there isn’t anywhere to put the blame. The ‘problems’ that I face are not there because of my self-conscious nature. They aren’t there because I’m feeling sorry for myself. They aren’t there because there is something wrong. Maybe, all I need to do is try harder. And not just try harder at the logistical things. But trying harder to see. Try harder to see the good things. Like the times that Ammon does listen to me when we’re out in public. Or the times that he and I have a really good day. Or just the times that he comes to me for comfort – and I can instantly quiet his fears. When I sit and take notice of those good times – I find that they happen more often than not. The times that I am a ‘bad mom’ are far outweighed by the times when I am good at it. Granted, I fall short many days. I’m far from perfect – and I am assuredly not a perfect parent. But, I should give myself some credit. I don’t screw up the majority of the time. I’ve tried to implement some changes over the last few days, and – I’m comforted to report – we’ve had much better days. I’ve had much better days. What a difference it makes to do something so small as to say, “Just a minute” a little bit less.

A little something happened a couple of weeks ago that – in its own way – reassured me that there may be hope for me yet. We were down at Brian’s grandparents’ for a family reunion that we have every year to honor his great-grandmother, Claudie. Ammon had become fascinated with Granddaddy’s lawn mower, and sat on it for most of the afternoon. At one point, he was sitting on the seat with Brian standing right there with him. I was sitting in a row of chairs in front of the mower. Ammon slipped off the seat and bounced off about four things before sliding – upside down – toward the ground. I – without thinking – lunged backwards, reached through the small space between two chairs and grabbed Ammon by the shoulder/neck, right before his head hit the concrete. Brian made a comment about ‘a mom’s cat-like reflexes’, while his dad, Larry, said, “And that’s how the pros do it.” Now, of course, this was a potentially scary situation – and it was scary even though, ultimately, no harm was done. But, I didn’t panic or feel the terror of the situation until afterwards. It wasn’t my impressive reflexes that caught my attention so much as my father-in-law’s comment. It was nothing big. And yet, it was what I needed to hear.

No mother is perfect. No mother is good at her job every single second of every single day. And yet, I know many wonderful mothers who try to be the best that they can be. Incredible nurturers who start anew each day – with new resolve to be better. I know many women – mothers or not – who do incredible things. Motherhood isn’t a glamorous job. And yet, I’m glad it’s mine. I’m glad I have the opportunity to rise above my imperfect human nature and selfishness. I know that perfection is not expected of me in this life. But I am expected to try my best. And I’ve decided that I can do that. Because I have others counting on me to be the best that I can be. Counting on me to try.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

amber + russell | sneak peek

My friend, Amber, is getting hitched. And I am so, so very happy for her. She and Russell make quite the pair, let me tell you. Classic and spunky, alike … and looking utterly gorgeous doing it.

She graciously asked me to do their engagement pictures. I – of course – accepted. And immediately started getting excited.

The day of, Brian, Ammon and I decided to kill some time at a nearby park. We ate lunch and played for a while before it was time to meet Amber and Russell. But right before the boys and I could head over and start our shoot – our keys got locked in the car. Along with our phone. And my camera. It was just my luck, after all. Every year it happens. It happened on our first date. Brian locks the keys in the car – not out of carelessness, but sheer freak accidents. But today of all days! Standing out in the torturing sun for two hours and reacting to some-blooming-something at the park was not what I had planned for that afternoon.

Needless to say – this afternoon started off as just a pure mess. My aggravation pushed all my excitement out the window. And my preparation. Don’t get me wrong. I was thrilled to do this shoot for my friend. But – before even starting – I was exhausted, mentally drained … and sun-burnt, to boot. I was certainly worried that all of this would affect my work. But shortly after we got started – at our first location, while I was tweaking some camera settings – I heard Russell quietly whisper to Amber, “Hey, Beautiful.” And – of course – this caused my inner-romantic self to go all mushy. I remembered that this was why I was there. I remembered that capturing this love on film is what I adore. And with that thought – pure heaven ensued.

I’m grateful that these two were so patient with me throughout the editing process. When almost 90% of your 650 shots are ‘fabulous’, it makes things slightly time-consuming. I’m thankful to Brian – who was my ‘assistant’ for the day. I’m glad that Ammon was so good, considering all that had transpired throughout the afternoon. Of course, he has a not-so-little thing for Amber … so he was more than tickled to be there. Trust me.

As I’ve told them – it was a complete joy working with Amber and Russell. Their total joy just radiates from them. They are so in love – and it shows. It certainly makes my job very easy … these two worked the camera like nobody’s business. Anybody who will literally dance barefoot down Main Street is good in my book.

Goodness. Look at those faces. Enjoy … as I have.


























































goodbye, yellow brick road

Ammon started wearing these beauties when he was really walking go-ood. Running and jumping and climbing. We’ve created many a memory in these babies. They certainly bear evidence of the ravages of time. But … all good things must come to an end.

The time has come. Ammon has outgrown his beloved Vans. My how we’ll miss them. He sure looked charming in them. These were the first shoes that he responded to with “Shoes!” These shoes have taken him all over creation – on lots of adventures.

As I'm sure is very evident – I love shoes. Ammon shares that love, I'm glad to report. It is my belief that shoes hold memories. Shoes tell stories. Shoes get you from here to there – and back again. And you can see the miles on their soles.

There was once a little girl who owned a pair of clear jellies. She loved them. They were her ball shoes. Her Cinderella shoes. Her Audrey Hepburn shoes. She wore them until her feet oozed out the sides and she could wear them no more. And, to this very day, she has fond memories of those plastic shoes. I won’t tell you who this was ... just use your imagination.

Yes. Shoes help create memories. They tell stories. They spur imagination. They change lives. Like Cinderella. Or Dorothy. I guarantee while she was toe-tapping down that yellow brick road, she was contemplating all the trouble that those fab ruby reds had gotten her into. And then – eventually – helped her out of.

Needless to say – these first big-boy shoes of Ammon’s have been a treasured part of our home for quite a while. But – alas – it is time to say goodbye. Say goodbye – and welcome a new pair of shoes to the shelf. A new pair to get good and dirtied up. A new pair to hide pebbles in. A new pair to have grand adventures with.

All those things that shoes are the best for.

everyday is okay

My life of late can easily be summed up with this photo:

Yes. My everyday has also been complete chaos, tiring and – most assuredly – a mess. No – this picture is not the result of a staged photo-op. This was just an ordinary fiasco of our home – which, for once, did not happen to be caused by the little dude in the background. He did help me clean up this mess, however – picking up one little Fruit Loop at a time. Until he realized what a marvelous sound they make when stepped on, that is.

I know – and am flattered – that so many read this blog. I started this blog – and keep it going – for a specific audience of three. In other words: Just us. I was a.s.t.o.u.n.d.e.d a while back when I got a small glimpse at just how many folks tune in for ‘Happy Thomas Family’ news. And yet it’s hard – especially lately – for me to post. Mainly because – despite a very few high points – our lives have been extremely mundane. All I have to talk about is the everyday. The ins and outs of our daily schedule and routine … if you can even call it that. And while I know that there are many – particularly family members that live a good distance away – that are insanely interested in our humdrum ‘everyday’ lives – it is honestly something very hard for me to write about. Nothing gives me writers’ block like everyday life.

I guess that is because it is my everyday life. I live it day in and day out – I know better than anyone that it is very rarely grand. Nine times out of ten, when all is said and down and I sit down to blog I don’t want to revisit the ‘fun’ of the day.

And yet, it is our everyday life – those mundane moments – that make us who we are. It is the everyday stuff – those everyday moments we share as a family – that are the important things. I do believe that. I have no problem creating everyday memories. But even still – I’ve noticed that lately I only find the motivation to blog if I have a grand story to tell. If I have a herd of photographs to help tell my tale. If we’ve been on a trip – or just participated in some sort of large-scale event. All of this has me somewhat confused, because it doesn’t jive with another aspect of my life.

Most know that I am a – albeit behind – scrapbooker. I say this, though I don’t like the term ‘scrapbooker’. You say, “I’m a scrapbooker”, and folks automatically picture cutesy stickers and creative lettering done with glitter pens, all adorning photos with scallopy die-cutted corners. People who aren’t a part of the industry don’t understand what it really is. They also don’t know that anyone can be (and probably already is) a ‘scrapbooker’. A photo album full of photos is a scrapbook. Even without the stickers. Preserving your memories in any form – especially those everyday moments – for yourselves and your posterity is what it’s all about. This being said, I am a paper crafter who focuses on family life preservation. And, to set the record straight, while my previous description of a ‘scrapbooker’ is perfectly fine … it isn’t me. Despite my mammoth supply stash, I rarely reach for stickers, don’t use my glitter pens, and don’t have a scallop corner punch to my name.

Let’s get back on track: I am passionate about preserving the everyday existence of my family in our scrapbooks and art. I firmly believe that it is simply about the words and photographs – rather than the cutesy stickers. I have been known to preserve a moment sans pictures. I love photographs – and usually have plenty of them. But such isn’t always the case. And yet, it is still vital to preserve that moment, picture or not. I’m reminded of a recent quote I read:

“I’d like you to think back to your most treasured memories – the ones you hold dear, the ones that make you laugh, or the ones that simply touch your heart. Now let me ask you this: How many of these memories have a perfect photo capturing the very essence of the moment? I don’t know about you, but most of my favorite memories are stories. There are no photos of my daughter taking her first breath or the moment I received my first kiss from the man I’d marry. They are those exceptional little moments that live within each of us, void of photos but bursting with life.” (Deena Wuest courtesy of CK)

So, to make sense of all of this: I adhere to an ‘everyday moments are important’ rule in serveral facets of my life – but not blogging. Or at least I'm not good at it all the time. For whatever reason. And – on further speculation – I don’t think that it should be that way.

I am a stay-at-home-mom. Part of a dying breed, you could say. My life is drab – yet n.e.v.e.r boring. It is drab – and yet it is rich. Rich with the things that are important. It isn’t glamorous. It isn’t meant to be. It’s strenuous, demanding and exhausting. But because of that, I think my priorities remain in-check. I am outrageously grateful that I have the opportunity to be home with my child. That I have the chance to witness these tiring days – these humdrum moments that are sprinkled with magic.

I mentioned earlier that I didn’t feel like blogging unless I had a grand story to tell. I’ve learned that our life is the grand story. Our very existence. Our humdrum days. Our everyday moments. My life.

So – though I took the long way around to get to this point – here are some of the everyday moments of the Thomases Three. The ‘unexciting’ things that make us us:

Things are slowly shaping up in our new home. Every room still needs a tad bit of work – and I still have several projects waiting to be done. The only room that is a complete mess is my craft room. It wasn’t the priority, so I put it off till last. And now … well … I’m tired. Hopefully, I’ll be able to tackle it soon. Because I need that space to work on the aforementioned projects. Ah … it’s just a vicious cycle.

We have finally got this yard of ours under control. There is still an ocean of work to do, but it isn’t so overwhelming now. After we cleaned everything up, weeded flower beds, cut back trees, dug up various somethings, put out fresh pine straw and – of course – cut the grass … our yard seems to have doubled in size. There is still some clearing out to do in the back and more pine straw to put out – and we haven’t started our garden yet – but the difference is remarkable. Something that you would have had to see the before and then seen the after to believe. It truly looks like a completely different space. We’re proud of it – proud of the work we’ve put in to it. We love being outside. Love having a yard after all these years.

We’re beginning to figure out all the quirks of our new home … and town. We live in a very old home that has been restored and added on to – but there are some existing ‘things’ that we’ve had to get used to. And then there’s our new hometown. Which we love, but … enough said.

Brian is enjoying his job as much as ever. He had the opportunity of running Day Treatment the other day – which was a first. He is enjoying school as much as can. He’s ready to be done, for sure.

I’ve had to hide the Yo Gabba Gabba DVD. Ammon’s a hit or miss fan. Brian was intrigued by the fact that this show was developed by an Aquabat. I liked the retro-esque attributes of the show. Ammon watched it once at a friends’ house and seemed to like it. Since we don’t have cable – a DVD was purchased, just to see what his level of interest was. There are times when he’ll watch one episode and be done. There are times when we’ll watch the disk through once and be done. There are times when he doesn’t want to watch it at all. And then there are times like last week. When all he wants to watch is that one DVD. Over and over and over and over and over. Despite my attempts to turn him on to something else. There are only four episodes on that disk. One can only take so much. So, I hid the DVD before the weekend. Ammon spotted it last night. Guess what we’re watching today.

I’m dealing with some serious allergy troubles this year. I always have some flare ups at the change of the seasons, but this year it has been h.o.r.r.i.b.l.e. I attribute it to being outside so much more. For the last several years, I haven’t been outdoors much during this time of the year. Because of our new yard and our new playgroup commitment and such, I’m outside a heck of a lot more. And I’m suffering for it. So, the last few days I’ve been stuck inside. And missing out on this prolonged nice, crisp cool weather. Aggravating, indeed.

Ammon is talking up a storm. Literally overnight he’s started speaking in complete sentences and saying clear words. He still does a lot of gibbering, but he is saying so many things that even people who don't know him can really understand. He now says “Please” without being prompted to. He has taken his recently-acquired “I want this” and gone plural: “I want these”, “I want those” Now, instead of only pointing out letters when asked, he is saying the letter name. All day long, he is pointing to things and asking, “What’s this?” He also asks, “Why?” to just about everything. Apparently he is going through that normal ‘Why?, Why?, Why?’ stage a little early. He is also repeating words and remembering them. For instance, on our way home from church Sunday, we passed a car with some kayaks on top. Brian said, “Look, Buddy. Kayaks.” A little way down the road the car passed us, and Ammon said, “Hmm … kayaks.”

We had some visitors last Sunday afternoon. After Stake Conference, my mom and grandma came over for lunch. We haven’t had many visitors yet, and we were glad to have them. Ammon was, of course, showing off. And giggling. And being silly. Just how we like him.

Brian and Ammon have jumped on the tree-hugger wagon again. They – like me – typically watch DVDs in a cycle. Blame it on the OCD. They’ve gone through Transformers, Scooby Doo and Thundercats and are back to Planet Earth, The Blue Planet and old Shark Week specials. Don’t get me wrong – I like nature just like anybody else. I love my planet. And I do enjoy watching these things – except for, maybe, the sharks. But I can’t get anything done watching them. Within mere seconds my eyelids weigh a thousand pounds. Those suckers put me out quicker than a bullet.

Ammon is going through a growth spurt … of sorts. He seems to get bigger by the second. He is outgrowing clothes at an alarming rate, and yet still seems to be able to wear some of his old ones. For instance the shirt he is wearing in the photo above is sized 3 months. Yes – 3 months. The tank/short set in the first photo is sized 9 months. And yet, my favorite size 18 months shirt is now too small. The size 12 month shorts in the above picture are rolled down a couple of times so they don’t fall off. It’s a mystery. But, Ammon has outgrown (seemingly overnight) his Vans and is now the proud owner of his first pair of hard-soled Converse – and he looks absolutely jazzy in them.

We are thoroughly enjoying all aspects of our move. All the things that have been affected by it. We are really, really enjoying our new ward. Ammon and I are loving the active playgroup. And … wait for it … Ammon has been going to Nursery by h.i.m.s.e.l.f . He is only staying for the first hour … but still … he’s never stayed more than 2 minutes. The only reason that he doesn’t stay the entire time is because his favorite Nursery worker has to leave for another calling half way through. And then he wants to be her and not me ... or Brian.

My burn is healing up at a snail's pace … finally. Those of you who didn’t see it really missed a whooper. It was na-asty. It happened during our first weeks in the new house … while I was still getting used to the new, lower height of my oven. Who would have thought that a nano-second tap on 325 degrees would have done that. It’s been five weeks and most of the scab is gone. Though I do think I’ll have a scar. A scar the size of Nantucket on my forearm. Very, veeerry nice.

Ah … the everyday. Dull, draining and thrilling, alike … it’s ours. Here’s to turning over a new leaf. Because, believe it or not, the everyday is okay.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

for the love of george

Ammon and his George. You will never see one without the other. Trust me.

Ever since Ammon received this Curious George stufftie for his first birthday – he has been in l.o.v.e .

Ammon always has at least three buddies in his crib at all times. Every little while he’ll trade them out for some new buddies. George has never made the cut. George has slept with Ammon since day one – the only buddy out of hundreds to earn that recognition. He used to never leave the crib. But, since our move, George is now a constant figure in our everyday lives. George and Ammon are attached at the hip. They do everything together. Buddies … through and through.

I’ll never know what Ammon’s lure to George is. We’ve never watched an episode of Curious George. We only own one Curious George book and we really haven’t started reading it yet. It will always be a mystery, I guess – but I’ll never forget that first moment that Ammon laid eyes on George’s fuzzy mug … and how he attacked him with drooly gusto.

George is Ammon’s playmate. He is his wrestling opponent. He is his dance partner. He is Ammon’s football when he can’t find his other one. George gets his own assortment of toys to play with. He gets his own books to read … and Ammon helps him out by putting him in a headlock and putting his head down on the book of choice. George is, more often than not, wearing some article of Ammon’s clothing … at least shoes and socks. He eats meals with us … as Ammon insists that we feed George, too (note the pancake syrup stains on George’s mouth). George participates in our evening family scripture reading and prayer … Ammon even helps him fold his arms. George now goes to church with us … and even goes to Nursery. He is also Ammon’s partner in crime, though he often gets the short end of the stick … Ammon has, on at least two occasions, tried to pass the blame of some miss-doing off on his furry little pal.

Truth. George is a part of our family. He is my second son, so to speak. And I love him.

I love to watch Ammon with his George. How he cares for him and plays with him and loves on him. I love how every night when we tuck Ammon in, he makes sure that George is snug under the blanket and then gives him a big kiss. I love how Ammon returns to a room where he's left George and says in his sweet little sing-song voice, "Hey!"

I caught him last night sitting in his little blue chair with George – just talking away about something very important, I’m sure. Maybe about their day, and all the fun they had. Maybe about some plot that I’m not to know about. Oh, boy ... these two.

Whatever the reason, I’m glad that my Ammon has his George. As trying as it may be for me sometimes – I’m glad that Ammon has such a giving heart. Even if it means making two plates of pancakes instead of one.

Oh … for the love of George. How we’re glad to have you.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

the party food

As promised, here are the recipes for the food served at the New Moon party. Enjoy.

***

[ Stacy’s Super Salad ] From Stacy Thomas' Kitchen

This is a take on a normal tossed salad. You can put whatever you want in it, pretty much. For its base – you can use whatever kind of lettuce or greens you prefer. Stacy usually uses romaine hearts. Any dressing works well with this salad. What makes this salad so yummy – what makes it ‘super’ – is that there is more, what Stacy likes to call, ‘goody’ in it than lettuce or greens. The following is a list of what Stacy normally includes, layered amongst the greens (i.e.: small layer of greens, layer of all the goody, small layer of greens, layer of all the goody … topped with goody):

shredded parmesan cheese
slivered almonds
grated carrot
dried cranberries
red grapes
cherry tomatoes
cubed granny smith apples



[ Stacy’s Candy Chicken ] From Stacy Thomas' Kitchen

This is a wonderful marinade for chicken. Stacy often uses chicken tenderloin marinated in this in conjunction with her ‘Super Salad’. To 1 pound of chicken:

½ cup Italian dressing (drain and discard spices)
1 teaspoon lime juice
1 ½ teaspoons honey

Mix ingredients together. Pour over chicken, making sure all chicken is covered. Marinate at least 1 hour. Braise chicken in a non-stick pan or grill until lightly golden in color, but not dry.

Please note that Stacy no longer follows this recipe to the letter. She loosely follows the measurements suggested – usually using a tad more honey. She no longer even attempts to drain the spices out of the dressing, because it doesn’t work in the first place and doesn’t affect the marinade at all. She prefers to use chicken tenders (tenderloin) and let them sit in the marinade over night. She braises the tenders on the stove, allowing the honey to caramelize slightly, hence the name ‘Candy Chicken’.



[ BBQ Chicken Finger Sandwiches ] From Jessica Swatts' Kitchen

2 chicken breasts, cooked and chopped
½ green or red bell pepper
1 small can crushed pineapple, drained
½ cup BBQ sauce
½ cup mayonnaise
mustard, to taste
salt and pepper, to taste

Mix all ingredients and serve on your favorite bread.



[Peanut Butter Blossom Cookies] From Stacy Thomas' Kitchen

1 ¼ cups light brown sugar, firmly packed
¾ cup creamy peanut butter
½ Crisco stick or ½ cup Crisco All-Vegetable Shortening
3 tablespoons milk
1 tablespoon vanilla
1 egg
1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon salt
approx. 48 chocolate kisses, unwrapped

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine brown sugar, peanut butter, shortening, milk and vanilla in bowl. Beat until well-blended. Add egg. Beat again until well-blended. Combine flour, baking soda and salt. Add to shortening mixture. Form dough into 1-inch balls*. Place on ungreased baking sheets*. Bake, 1 sheet at a time, for 7 minutes. Remove from oven and press a chocolate kiss in the center of each cookie. Return to oven and bake for 3 minutes. Do not overbake. Let cool before removing from sheet.

*Stacy lightly rolls her dough balls in sugar and bakes on Pampered Chef baking stones.



[ Oreo Truffles ] From Hila Burge's Kitchen

1 package Oreos, finely crushed
1 8-oz package cream cheese, softened
1 ½ to 2 pounds semi-sweet chocolate (or white chocolate or almond bark)

Mix together the Oreos and cream cheese. Form into ½-inch to 1-inch balls (the smaller they are, the more they will make) and put them on a waxed paper-covered cookie sheet. For ease of handling, freezing the Oreo balls for an hour or so is a good idea, because it helps them be firmer for dipping. However, this is not a required step. Melt chocolate. Dip Oreo balls thoroughly and set back on wax paper-covered cookie sheet. You can decorate with the opposite color of chocolate on the top by drizzling, if desired. Return to freezer to harden. Remove prior to serving to thaw slightly.

Hila notes: The finer you can get the Oreos, the better. She uses a food processor for this step. Also, the softer the cream cheese is, the better. When mixing the Oreos and cream cheese, it is easier to use a stand mixer if you have one, as opposed to a hand mixer. In the past, Hila has used white chocolate and added red food coloring; however, she has found that adding the food coloring causes the chocolate to be thick and gloopy. She suggests, instead, using cake decorating gel, icing, or something similar when a colored accent is desired.



[ Chocolate Toffee Bars ] From Kira Hutto's Kitchen

1 box graham crackers
6 pack of full-sized Hershey's chocolate bars
2 sticks butter
½ cup sugar

Break the graham crackers into squares and use to line a cookie sheet (make sure the cookie sheet has four sides). Bring the butter to a rolling boil, add sugar, and cook for 1 ½ minutes. Pour this mixture over the graham crackers and bake in 375 degree oven for 8 minutes. While this is baking, break the Hershey's bars on the lines so that each piece has 3 sections. After the crackers have been in the oven for 1 ½ minutes, remove them from oven. Immediately after pulling the pan out, place a 3-sectioned piece of chocolate on each square of graham cracker. Once you've placed all the chocolate, use the bottom of a metal spoon to spread out the chocolate – starting at one end of the pan and moving to the other. Once the chocolate is evenly spread, stick the whole pan into the freezer. Once frozen, break into small pieces.

of vamps and wolves

Night of nights. Joy of joys. Food and friends. Vamps and wolves.

It’s that time again. The telling of the tale. The New Moon Party.

Ah. Be still my heart.

Of course we were going to have a party to celebrate the release of the next movie in the Twilight series. Though we are all, first and foremost, passionate fans of the books – we honor the films, too … and use them as an excuse to get together and party hardy. New Moon was set to be released on DVD on March 20th. I planned the party for that night. And – of course – that’s when the problems began.

From the beginning, it was clear that someone or something was working very hard to keep this get-together from happening. For reasons I don’t understand yet. But – every step of the way – there were snags getting this party going. Truth be told – it almost didn’t happen at all. I’m not known for my good luck. However, my luck usually doesn’t run out before I even begin.

First of all, the release date of the New Moon DVD seemed to be released at the very last minute. At least, it was later in the game than when the Twilight DVD release date was confirmed last year. That means less planning time. That means a more trying time for our out-of-town guests. Etcetera.

Second of all, from the beginning, the out-of-towners in our original troupe seemed to have problems figuring out a way of getting here. Of course, we already knew that it was a lot to ask. Hila – in Washington State – was trying to figure out someway – somehow – to get here. She surprised us all for the Twilight party, but in the end it just couldn’t happen for this one. Ginger – now in Korea – couldn’t just hop over the pond for a party, obviously. We knew that there was a possibility that Lyndsey – in Panama City, Florida – wouldn’t be able to make it either. In the end, she couldn’t. Though, I’m glad now that I ignored this thought – for awhile I thought about not doing the party without them. We were all beyond bummed that these special girls couldn’t be with us. And yet, they all made their own contributions – in all ways, shapes and forms – and that was certainly better than nothing. We took what we could get, for sure.

Third – there was the issue of where to have the party. The last time, it was at my house. I love to entertain, but rarely get the opportunity. These are ‘my’ parties, so to speak, so I felt like I needed to host them. This time, though, I felt like we needed to have the party in Enterprise – to be fair to our Enterprise guests. Of the options – I decided on my mom’s new apartment. She’s there by herself, so we wouldn’t be upsetting the routines of any children or spouses – and she has enough room, for sure. Of course, I wasn’t especially happy with this alternative. Having our party in Enterprise ultimately created more work for me. However – unbeknownst to me at the time – having the party in someone else’s home proved necessary. A week after making this decision, we found out we were moving in just two short weeks. Of course, our move created an hour drive to Enterprise – instead of only 20 minutes. Again – more ‘work’. But – I was grateful that I didn’t have to worry about getting my new home ready for a gathering quite so quickly.

Fourthly, was – of course – the move, itself. A difficult undertaking indeed to plan an important festivity in the middle of moving. And not just moving across town – but moving into a new town 30 minutes away. A bigger deal, in a lot of ways. This relocation had to happen quickly. And there were hiccups nearly every step of the way. Truly this was a hard move for me. An important move – but difficult. The New Moon party was important to me, as well. I wasn’t for a second going to postpone or cancel it for this. So – I organized my thoughts, created some priorities, thought out a time-table and fashioned some solutions. I did what I could before we actually moved, housing finished products at my mom’s (so I knew where they were) until I needed them. The invitations were such a project. While packing our possessions, I held out the things that I would need later for the party – whether it was craft supplies or décor. Of course, I had some help. By nature – I like to work alone. Experience has taught me that, more often than not, that is the easier remedy for me. But this time – I couldn’t do it alone. Kira stepped up of her own accord – and did so much for me. For which I am so very grateful.

We can’t forget fifthly, of c.o.u.r.s.e – my feud with the Abbeville post office. My home of only one week and I already seemed to have enemies. The invitations were supposed to be sent out by the first of the month. Because of a hiccup in our move – like having to camp out at our townhouse for an extra week without any of our things – I wasn’t able to stick to this deadline. They ended up being mailed about a week later. A few days after that – longer than it should have taken, in fact – I received these invites back. They were rubber-banded together, with a janky little sticker on them asking for more postage. Now – these invitations weighed nothing. I knew that I had mailed similar things in the same sized envelopes before with no extra postage. I couldn’t understand why in the world these had come back to me. I couldn’t understand what post office on the planet had the time to sort out the mail, find all 16 of my invitations, rubber-band them together, stick a sticker on them and hand-write a message on it. Well – clearly my new back-woods, janky, hillbilly post office did. Anyhow – I absolutely refused to put any more stamps on these. So – I drove back to Dothan and mailed them again from there – risking them coming back again and me not having enough time to send them out again before the party. That’s just how sure I was that these shouldn’t require more postage. And – sure enough – they went through. All but one, that is. Which came back to me with a voided stamp, a torn envelope and stickers over the mailing and return address labels asking for more postage (though this time, I didn’t have a personal message). Again – I couldn’t understand what was going on. It only muddied the matter further that only one came back. But this time – after making up a new envelope – I just added an additional stamp and mailed it out. I almost stopped our mailman a day or so later – just to ask him why all that happened. Just to try and prevent it from happening again. Because I don’t understand what the problem was. But I didn’t do it – because, at the time, I was so very a.n.g.r.y . But anywho – what’s done is done. I guess it will always be a mystery. Of course Brian has said – in response to my quandary about never being able to mail things from our new home and trust it to go through – “Well … you can always go up to Dothan to mail stuff.” To which I replied, “That isn’t the point, dear. The point remains … I shouldn’t have to.”

And lastly, sixth – the food. The day of the party, I prepared the food that I was going to bring. I had everything planned out to the minute. When I had to get up. The order in which I was preparing everything and when I needed to start and finish each item. Etcetera. I had gone through my recipes the day before and made a list of everything that I needed to get that night at the store. So – I was ready to go. So I thought. I made my ‘Peanut Butter Blossom Cookies’ first – and went ahead and got out all of my ingredients and unwrapped all my kisses. I measured out my peanut butter, brown sugar and shortening and went to measure out the vanilla. I opened the box, took out the bottle and opened it up – only to find it b.o.n.e dry. I shook it desperately – hoping, I guess that some vanilla extract would just materialize in the empty vial. I guess this situation falls under the same category as pushing-the-buttons-on-the-remote-harder-rather-than-just-changing-the-batteries-already. Or maybe even the picking-up-that-little-piece-of-fuzz-that-the-vacuum-won’t-suck-up-to-examine-it-and-then-put-it-back-down-on-the-ground-to-run-over-it-again-with-the-vacuum-rather-than-just-throwing-it-in-the-trash-while-you-had-it-in-your-hand category. Either way, vanilla extract did not materialize in the bottle. Ammon was standing right next to me at the time and I just shut my eyes and said, “Amm … cover your ears.” Because I was about to spew. Consider this moment the straw that broke the camel’s back. Because I was done. But – I persevered. I ran like the wind, shouting all the way, to inform Brian that he and Ammon had to go locate some vanilla extract. In the town with no Wal-Mart, where nothing opens before 10am on a Saturday, it seems. But, as luck would have it, he found some. And my cookie dough wasn’t totally ruined for sitting in that state for so long. But those cookies weren’t the only things that I had to make. And I had issues like that through the whole process. Let’s just say that I needed to be in the shower by 2:00pm – and I finished the last food item at exactly 1:58. Of course, there was the whole disaster with the finger sandwiches once I got to my mom’s. I had made these many times before with lovely results – using a recipe I got from my cousin, Jess, a long time ago. For some reason – even though I did everything exactly the same – the filling for these turned out hideously this time. So not right. Anyway, this was a situation we had to rectify – which placed us over an hour behind schedule.

And so on. There were so many more things that went horribly ‘amiss’ during the planning of this party. I won’t mention any more – for I’m sure you get the point. There were many, many times when I threw up my hands and just screamed, “Forget it!” So many times when I seriously thought about just skipping the whole thing. Though I’m sure everyone else would have just gone on without me – I’m so very glad I stuck with it and kept on going. Like I mentioned before – it was almost like someone or something was trying to keep this get-together from happening. For whatever reason. Maybe because these shindigs are so good for the mentalities of those in our group – good for me, at least. I truly don’t know. But, whatever the reason – and whoever you are: Hardy, Har, Har. It didn’t work.

I will say, though, that the original concept of the party came together easily for me. The planning itself was a joy to do – it was only the execution that really proved trying. I went with a different ‘theme’ for this party. Whereas the original Twilight party had a more vamp-ish tone with elegant silvers and reds and blacks, this one had a more Native American tenor to it with its earthy qualities. All to honor the werewolves, of course, since we feel that they deserve at least a few minutes of glory. I used lots of rich browns and oranges – with accents of ruby, turquoise and deep violet. I found the most gorgeous orange tulips with a vivid purple vein up the side. Kira found some nifty graphics that included various quotes from New Moon. We decided on a few and she had them printed up for the party. I hung them with some rich golden gauze ribbon from the chandelier in my mom’s dining room. She also made t-shirts for some of us that read, ‘I Need My Twilight Fix’. Because – after all – that Twilight ‘fix’ is the reason for all of this. The party also gave me an excuse to finally make my ‘book wreath’. I used a mass-market copy of New Moon, ironically enough. And it turned out so very lovely. So very lovely, in fact, that I now have orders for some.

I was especially pleased with the invitations for this party. I loved the papers that I used – enough that I have a new love of this color-scheme. I was able to perfectly execute a ruby red stitch around the border … with a sewing machine (as I am a hand-stitcher, this was quite the feat). I stamped an image on the top sheet with paint, rather than ink – letting it dry slightly beforehand, so that it would give the illusion of a natural compound, like mud. A lot of thought went into these – I do hope it shows. I don’t know how I did it, to be perfectly honest. Again, these all came together in the middle of our move.

But alas – that Saturday came. The day we had all been waiting for. I loaded up my car with all my goodies (what I hadn’t already taken to my mom’s, that is) and headed up to Dothan to pick up Kira. We got to Enterprise, unloaded the car, and I started putting the finishing touches on the decorations. Kira got the food situated while Mom tried to make sense of those dang finger sandwiches. Our guests all arrived early, which was a treat. I like to think that it was because they were all so incredibly excited. Crystal brought her mom, Debbie, with her – which was so nice. We were excited to add to our few numbers and it was great to get to know her better. Kristy brought sweet Baby Jane along with her, of course – all decked out in a fab Twilight onesie which she rocked.

Once we finally got situated, we decided to settle in and start our rendezvous. We all stood around the bar ready to bless the food, and – low and behold … we all got the giggles. We all groaned, “… and here we go, again …” Of course, that only tripled the chuckles. About this time, Kristy glanced over at the table, saw the Oreo truffles and said, “Oh, wow … those make me think of Hila.” I think we all had the same idea at the same time. Kira grabbed her phone, and we called Hila. She was plopped on speakerphone and … wait for it … we asked her to say the prayer. From Washington State. A little unorthodox, yes … but so special to us. Of course, Hila’s heartfelt prayer still gave some of us the chuckles. I know that I was elbowed at one point. We took the opportunity to shout our hellos to Hila – my how we missed her.

We decided to have more of a filling ‘meal’ this time around, since we were ‘starting’ about an hour earlier. To fill our tummies, we had: ‘Stacy’s Super Salad’ with ‘Stacy’s Candy Chicken’ and barbecue chicken and pineapple finger sandwiches made by Stacy. I made these finger sandwiches not only because Kristy specifically asked me to, but also because the filling slightly resembles dog food which I felt was appropriate in tribute to those stinkin’ werewolves. But – I digress. We also had fresh pineapple and strawberries. I made my ‘Peanut Butter Blossom Cookies’ and Kristy brought some peanut butter M&Ms. Kira made Oreo truffles in honor of Hila and also made her yummy ‘Chocolate Toffee Bars’. We also had a little surprise courtesy of Lyndsey – a red-velvet cake with cake batter ice cream ordered from Cold Stone Creamery that said, ‘I Need My Twilight Fix’. Yummy to our tummies, indeed. Humorous, though, that Kira wanted to have a more ‘nutritious’ spread – when she was the one who brought most of the sweets. Hmm.

By the way, I will post recipes later … as I have been asked to do.

We – of course – had sparkling grape juice. It’s a ritual now, after all. Kristy provided that – hoping that we would have the same ‘luck’ as last time. Kira also brought ABC Root Beer and Crush Strawberry and Black Cherry Soda. She had labels printed for the bottles – designed by the same individual as the other quote graphics – that read: Type A, Type B, Type O, I’m Thirsty and Drink Up. So very cool.

We enjoyed a nice, leisurely dinner that included lots of conversation. We took our time eating – all going back for thirds. We laughed and joked. We talked about all kinds of random things. We took the time to all sit down one by one and contribute to a message we sent to Ginger via Facebook. We all reminisced about the original Twilight bash. The fangs made an appearance, of course. All in all, wonderful moments. The quiet before the storm, so to speak. I think that we all sort of expected Hila or Lyndsey – or maybe even Ginger – to just walk through the door at any moment. We talked about them a lot that night.

Our game this time around turned out fabulously. Just the right mix of challenging and riotous. Of course, I know that it would have been so much more fun if our entire troupe was there. I’ve always thought that we all are the perfect blend of personalities – that we all just mesh impeccably well – making for f.a.n.t.a.s.t.i.c times. But anywho: We played Twilight Cranium – specific to all the books, not just New Moon or the movies. Kristy helped me with the concept and Kira helped me with some ‘answers’ when my brain gave up the ghost. I designed the cards and I was so stoked with how they turned out. Basically, it was a play on the actual game, Cranium. We used the categories: Taboo, Charade and Sculpt. Because of our few numbers, we did not split into teams and we really didn’t stick to any time restrictions. Each category was assigned a color, and we took turns rolling a dice to determine which category we would pull a card from. Those of you non-Twilighters won’t get any of this – probably don’t get any of this post – but nonetheless, here’s a basic overview:

[Taboo] For this category, you had an ‘answer’ that you would have to get the others to guess. It was a verbal play, where you could say anything apart from the ‘answer’ and a list of specific ‘taboo’ words/phrases listed on the bottom of the card. Just a few examples of ‘answers’ and taboo words:


First Beach (ocean, driftwood, la push / reservation)
Onion-Skinned (translucent, white / powdery, delicate)
The Third Wife (knife, sacrifice, story / legend)

[Charade] For this category, you had an ‘answer’ that you would have to get the others to guess. It was a simulation play, where you would have to act out your ‘answer’ without speaking. Just a few examples of ‘answers’:


Laurent (the cards were stacked for this one … my mom had to get it since her impersonation at the original Twilight party was such a hit … or hiss, I should say)
Phasing (which Kristy performed flawlessly)
Sparkle (which I interpreted pretty well, if I do say so myself)

[Sculpt] For this category, you had an ‘answer’ that you would have to get the others to guess. It was a modeling/artistic play, where you would have to sculpt your ‘answer’ out of clay. You could help the guessing along, without saying your ‘answer’, of course. Some examples of ‘answers’:


‘La Tua Cantante’ (a direct quote from New Moon – the one that I was worried about – which lucky Miss Crystal picked in the game’s final moments)
Volterra
Jane

I don’t know who actually ‘won’ the game. I will say that I got entirely too many Sculpt cards. I do know that we all worked hard, played hard and laughed hard. For reals.

After the game, I handed out the party favors. Not everyone has theirs yet, but I’ll go ahead and share what I put together. At the last party, I made tote bags with everyone’s favorite Twilight quotes on them. They also got a vial of dirt from Forks, Washington, courtesy of Hila (along with the Forks pin and those lov-e-ly fangs). This time – everyone got a wooden frame, complete with Native American-esque details. I included the New Moon quote: “Before you . . . my life was like a moonless night.” One of my favorites that I thought went along so well for this night with friends … because that is what they all mean to me. And, to go along with their Forks dirt, I had Hila send me sand from First Beach in La Push, Washington (a location that figures prominently in New Moon). Everyone also got a little New Moon decal that Kira had found.

Slowly but surely, we started cleaning up. We went ahead and put away the food and decorations so that ‘we wouldn’t be so late’ going home. My mom did mention that, despite starting the party an hour earlier, we were still running about normal. To which I replied, “No. No, no, no. We have 20 whole minutes before we’ll be ‘running about normal’. Last time we started the movie at 12:30am on the dot … it is now only 12:10.” I do think, though, that had it not been for the finger sandwich fiasco, we would have been doing a heck of a lot better on time.

Crystal’s mom had to leave around this time, but the rest of us settled in to watch the movie. Of course, like with the first Twilight party, we actually didn’t ‘watch’ the movie. We talked. And laughed. And talked some more. We talked about just about everything, I think. Everything under the sun … or – well – the moon, in this case. Not just funny things – but serious things, too. It was – without a doubt – lovely conversation. So nice to just sit and talk with the girls. We did comment on the movie at one point - wondering why Robert Pattinson didn't do anything about his – err – physical apperance for this film. Especially when compared to Taylor Lautner's interpretation of Jacob. Because – it wasn't good.

Once the movie wrapped, we loaded up and said our see-you-laters. It was around 3:30am – and sprinkling lightly in Enterprise. Kira and I headed south – talking about various things, trying to stay awake. I don’t really remember what exactly we talked about. Phantom of the Opera, I think. At one point, she said something about printing a retraction in the newspaper … something that did not make any sense in our current conversation … so I just shut up and let her doze. I dropped her off at her house, dug out my peanut butter cookies, hooked up my iPod and got ready to make the last leg of my journey alone. I was good and awake at that point – but it was still a long drive in the drizzly rain. I blared some Billy Joel, some Black Crowes, and some My Fair Lady. I munched on cookies. I thought a lot about our little party. And – before I knew it – I was home.

From the very beginning, I knew in my heart that this party would be different than that first Twilight soirée. And it was. Without a doubt. And yet – in so many ways – it was the same. There we all were – friends – laughing so hard that breathing wasn’t quite an option. There we all were – with faces as red as beets, with tears streaming down our faces, with our entire bodies aching from the hysteria. The whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite funnies from New Moon. Spoken by Emmett: “. . . I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always . . .

Yes. It was different. We missed our dear friends who couldn’t make it this time around. And yet – I would not change a thing about our little gathering. I would not have missed the chance to spend such precious moments with my friends that were able to come. Not for anything.

Yes. We all got home late. I know that when I pulled up in my driveway at 4:43am, I wondered what-in-the-name-of-all-that’s-holy I was doing. The next day, I surely suffered from the obligatory vamp-party-hangover (something that I have figured out has nothing to do with the sparkling grape juice, but everything to do with the uncontrollable laughter … laugh for 7 hours straight when you aren’t used to laughing very much and see how your body/muscles/brain react). But, the next day I was still able to attend church and a family reunion and spend the afternoon with family. After a short nap, I felt as good as gold.

I can only speak for myself – and I know that I needed that little break from my reality. I needed that time to recharge my batteries. I needed that chance to do something for myself – because if I can’t keep hold of me, what can I keep hold of? I am so very grateful that Brian recognizes that need, trusts me, and wants me to have a good time on my own every so often. I’m glad that he allows me to make some decisions that probably don’t make complete sense to him, but that help me. Help me to be a better wife, mother and person. I do the same for him. It makes such a difference. Thank you, Sweetheart.

These last few thoughts are retrospective, of course. I had some getting-over-it to do after the party was over. Some aggravating things that sort of got dumped in my lap. And then, of course, there was the whole debacle of making this get-together happen in the first place. My g.o.s.h . That was enough to make anyone want to go out and dig their own grave. And yet, I’m so glad that I persevered through it all. I’m glad that I was able to just put away my frustrations. Move on and recognize the wonderful qualities of it all. I have to say that it all happened when I sat down to sort through the pile of party stuff that I just dumped on the floor when I got home that night. I read through a print-out of funny quotes from New Moon that we were going to incorporate into the party. We weren’t able to use it then, but I read through it for the first time the other day, saw this quote by the compiler, and my heart warmed:

Though New Moon is a heavy tome with a seriously heartbreaking plot, there’s still room for plenty of humor. And that’s a good lesson to take into life – no matter how rough things may get, always look for opportunities to laugh and keep yourself surrounded by people who never fail to elicit a chuckle.

How true. Life is often ‘a heavy tome with a seriously heartbreaking plot’. And yet those moments are what get us from one joyful minute to the next. Looking back now, I am so grateful that I sought out the opportunity to start this tradition of sorts in the first place. I’m so fortunate to have so many individuals in my life who surely do keep me laughing. So many to share this with.

Thank you, girls – for everything. Mom, Kristy and Baby Jane, Crystal and Debbie, and Kira – I love you all. Ginger, Hila and Lyndsey – I love you all, too. We missed you – but we’re glad that you were all a part of this party in some way. You all made your presence known – your spirits were certainly there – and I treasure that. We all do.

Success again. Good times, for sure. Eclipse ahead. In one way or another … see you there.


little people

It’s no lie that Ammon is a little boy. Obviously. Oh, how I get tired of hearing it! Every single day – for the last week – I have had at least one comment about how small Ammon is. I’ve listened to folks ‘comment’ on their children and how little they weigh – all the while thinking to myself, “. . . hmm. Your child is younger than my child and weighs more than my child. What’s the / your problem?” I know better than others that my child is growing at a normal rate. I know better than others that my child is perfectly healthy. I know that he is just on the small side. And – for that matter – I happen to like him just the way he is.

This past Saturday, I was making a purchase in Hot Topic and chatting with my Hot-Topic-employee-/-Twilight-fanatic friend. Ammon was with me and she said, “Oh wow! He’s getting so big … and still rockin’ those Vans.” She went on to say that she remembers me being pregnant and remembers him being an infant – and that she was amazed at how fast and big he’s grown. I thought to myself, “Thank you. Finally, someone notices.”

Brian and I love our tiny little man. He looks just perfect standing next to the two of us. We’re little people, too, after all. So – I thought I’d post a little something in honor of Ammon’s little-ness. And mine.

They laugh at me, these fellows, just because I am small.
They laugh at me because I'm not a hundred feet tall!
I tell 'em there's a lot to learn down here on the ground.
The world is big, but little people turn it around.

A worm can roll a stone.
A bee can sting a bear.
A fly can fly around Versailles 'cos flies don't care!
A sparrow in a hat – can make a happy home.
A flea can bite the bottom of the Pope in Rome!

Goliath was a bruiser who was as tall as the sky.
But David threw a right and gave him one in the eye.
I never read the Bible but I know that it's true.
It only goes to show what little people can do!

A worm can roll a stone.
A bee can sting a bear.
A fly can fly around Versailles 'cos flies don't care!
A sparrow in a hat – can make a happy home.
A flea can bite the bottom of the Pope in Rome!

So listen here, professor, with your head in the cloud.
It's often kind of useful to get lost in a crowd.
So keep your universities – I don't give a darn.
For better or for worse it is the way that I am!

Be careful as you go –
‘cos little people grow . . .

And little people know, when little people fight,
we may look easy pickings but we got some bite!
So never kick a dog – because it's just a pup!
You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up!
And we'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up!

A worm can roll a stone.
A bee can sting a bear.
A fly can fly around Versailles 'cos flies don't care!
A sparrow in a hat – can make a happy home.
A flea can bite the bottom of the Pope in Rome!

A flea can bite the bottom of the Pope in Rome!


*Lyrics: Little People, Les Misérables