Seventy Years!

Tuesday Mom and Dad celebrated seventy years of marriage! We had a wonderful evening of celebration with friends, neighbors, and family.

I Should Be Eating Cake!

This whole week just feels wrong. Like Halloween without a pumpkin. Easter without colored eggs. The Fourth of July without a flag. It's like those dreams I've had when I wake up in the middle of the night and realize that it's Christmas the next morning, and I've done nothing--absolutely nothing--to prepare. No tree, no presents, no stockings, no ham or pies or candy canes. In my dream, I leap out of bed and frantically try to find a store open in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve--some way to fix what is wrong. And then, of course, I wake up.

But this is no dream. This is reality.

Saturday, my baby girl turned thirty. Today, another baby girl turns twenty-seven. And tomorrow, my first baby girl turns thirty-two. And, if that isn't enough, my newest daughter (2 1/2 years to me), is also blowing out candles tomorrow. In Georgia.

And the closest thing to a cake in my house was the pumpkin-chocolate chip cookies I made yesterday, and they're gone.

In years past there were always cakes. Lots of them. I confess, they weren't particularly fancy, like the ones my girls now create for their own little ones. Usually chocolate, whipped up from a cake mix, baked in a 9 x 13 pan, and decorated with chocolate frosting, sprinkles and candles. It wasn't that they were unique in any way--except in quantity. In September, I bought cake mixes in bulk!

Each of the girls needed her own cake with candles to blow out with the family. Then, of course, we needed cupcakes for the party with friends. And finally, back before schools insisted that treats be properly and professionally packaged, there were cupcakes for all the classmates delivered during the day. That's potentially three cakes.

Times three girls.

In four days.

So don't give me a hard time for not making fancy three-dimensional unicorn cakes. By the ninth cake, we were forcing it down.

But the cakes were only the beginning.

Every year, there were parties. Some years, we had three separate parties. And some years the birthday girls shared the holiday. I remember one year when all three had a slumber party--the same night--and I'm quite sure that we violated whatever fire code our little town had, with twenty-six girls plus our own family stuffed in a three-bedroom apartment! We had treasure hunts and scavenger hunts, played duck, duck, goose and the candy bar game. We had balloon relays and water balloon volleyball. We sang and laughed and chanted "heavy, heavy hang over my poor head, what do you wish with a bump on the head?"

Sweet memories.

Of course, all the birthday memories weren't wonderful. There was the time Amy and her friends were convinced that someone was chasing them and called the police. And the years when the birthday girl was inevitably found in her bedroom sobbing for some unknown reason. And the years when I resolved that next year, I would skip the party.

But today, as I sit in my quiet house, I find that I miss it all. I miss the cake, the off-key singing ("and many more, on channel four"), the wrapping paper and popped balloons strewn around the living room, the sleepless nights. Mostly, I miss my girls.

Happy Birthday Jenny, Christy, Amy & Kristi!

Jenny with Grandma Hastings, on her 2nd birthday

Christy at her 14th birthday party

Amy turns 11

Christy's 9th birthday party; Amy--6, Jenny--11

Amy's 12th birthday

Christy's 15th birthday

Jenny's 16th birthday party

Christy turned 18; Amy turned 15

Eating their cake--differently

Christy's 19th birthday

Jenny's 21st birthday

Christy--20, Jenny--22, and Amy--17

What's in a Name?

As I start back to work at school, I'm always interested in the names of the students. And I have to admit--creativity reigns supreme at my school! Quite often, my first question when I'm given a new student to work with is "How do you pronounce that?" Although, if I give myself half a chance, I can often figure it out. It's a common enough sounding name! It's just spelled, well, creatively.

Admittedly, I'm sort of a stickler for spelling things correctly. On all our trips to my home town, I always noted, and mentioned--the Kow Kounty Kafe. Please, no. But besides my own personal chalk on the chalkboard reaction, I can't help but think about the poor child who's going to come across her name--at least I think it's her name because it sounds the same!--in a book and be so completely confused! Isn't "cat" always spelled "cat?" Or is it sometimes spelled "Kat?"

After I figure out what the name of the child is, my second question is often, "And is it a boy or girl?" Obviously, the parents of that child didn't worry about the two cardinal rules we considered when we named our children: Give 'em a name people can pronounce and spell and which obviously identifies their gender. No son of mine is going to be called "she" on the first day of tenth grade!

So, since I passed up my own opportunity to creatively spell my own children's names, I thought I'd try my hand at some creative alternatives for my grandchildren. Too late, unfortunately, for them, as they're already born and named. But--just for fun! I give you some of the names I could be writing on Christmas labels:

Parcur

Kayelubb

Soffee

Jaxxunn

Lyleey

Marrgrutt

Lynkunn

Jozzuhfeene

Addickuss

MayCee

Merrunn

Ulaynuhh

and finally, our soon-to-be addition: Ahluvuur

What do you think?

Sleeping Beauty Sneak Preview

Come and see Andrew as Prince Phillip!

Performances begin at 7:00 p.m.

August 12, 13, 15, 19, 20, 22

at the Springville Playhouse

(under the library)

Choosing Gratitude

Today I am (trying to be) grateful

that I decided not to drive Andrew and friends to a distant temple last week,

that we forgot to fill up with gas ($50) when we intended to,

that Elena & Lily fell asleep as soon as we left Liberty Park with them,

that my kids were also headed toward Utah County from Salt Lake Saturday afternoon,

that we all have cell phones so we could call them,

that Eric was driving his truck (with a tow rope) to haul stuff for the CureSearch walk,

that it was a sunny day for an impromptu picnic on the grass outside of Wendy's,

that Rob & Julie finished lunch with the Lee's just in time to lend us their back seat,

that Amy offered to drop everyone off and come back and get us,

that a stranger stopped to help & gave Eric $100 when he saw our Team Elena shirts,

that a police officer directed traffic around us,

that hubby's bonus--which will arrive Friday--was anticipated, but not quite spoken for,

that I wasn't driving,

that hubby doesn't panic under pressure like I would,

and can navigate across three lanes of traffic going sixty-five miles an hour

without power steering

when the engine stalls without warning and smoke pours out of the back of the car.

(The verdict involves a head gasket replacement and over $1800. We're considering our options.)

Why you should pay attention in history class

Because one day you'll be headed into a grocery store, with nothing but milk and paper towels on your mind, and you'll be approached by a junior high student carrying a clipboard. He'll ask, innocently enough, if you'd be willing to participate in a short survey for his history class. You'll be feeling agreeable, and so you'll say yes. Then his friend will whip out a video camera, and you'll realize that you made a mistake, but you'll tell yourself that it would be foolish to refuse to cooperate now. After all--how bad can it be?

And then you'll spend the following excruciating moments answering question after question with "Wow, yeah, I recognize that name, but--" followed by "I don't remember." Maybe because instead of listening during history, you were drawing hearts with some boy's initials on your notebook, penning your name with his last name, writing poetry. All those names and dates--in one ear and out the other. (Sorry Courtney.) And in that moment you will feel stupid. Really, really stupid. You might even ask yourself how it is that you managed to raise a family of bright children having such a low intellect yourself.

The boys will stifle giggles behind their notebooks. You'll picture yourself on some late night TV show, or youtube video. You know the kind. The boys will attempt to encourage you. "You were close," they'll say when you miss the date by a mere 200 years.

So the bottom line is--pay attention on that sunny afternoon right after lunch when everything but school is calling you and you wonder why you need to know whose picture is on a twenty dollar bill. Trust me. One day you'll be glad you listened.

Best Weekend Ever!

Girl's Getaway in Park City

We shopped, we ate yummy meals, we made jewelry, bows & decorations, we played games, we watched movies, we scrapbooked, we shared, we exercised, we hot-tubbed, we laughed hard, we stayed up late and slept in.

It was wonderful!

Already looking forward to next year!

(P.S. And don't I have beautiful daughters?)