Tribute to a father-in-law and a few dead potatoes.

After a brief, polite knock at the door, my father-in-law walked into my kitchen last night. "Have you recovered?" he asked me with real concern.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. I suppose it could have been worse...I could have been inside Brother Henrie's house."

We chatted a moment longer before he left me...with the memory of good intentions gone awry.

Just minutes before Dad's thoughtful visit, he and I had both arrived at a neighbor's house, bearing food offerings to help with the recent passing of Brother Henrie's wife. My potato casserole (morbidly called "funeral potatoes" around here) was piping hot in the dish as I quickly carried it to the house. At the same time that I heard my father-in-law call out a greeting to me, the wind picked up, and the foil covering suddenly blew off the dish. I instinctively grabbed for the foil with one hand, balancing the casserole with the other hand. Tried to balance, that is. Seemingly in slow motion, and right before my eyes, Dad's eyes, and the eyes of many Henrie family members--the potatoes plummeted to the ground. Splat.

For five seconds, the whole embarrassing episode seemed like a metaphor for my day-to-day life: work for a while at a task only to have it destroyed completely. Wash the dishes while the playroom is torn apart. Take a shower while the couch cushions are thrown about the living room. Vacuum while flower pots are dashed to pieces on the patio. (These are not hypothetical examples, by the way.) All that went through my mind, and I wasn't laughing yet because it wasn't three hours past the event .

I did not cry. But I felt like it. Instead, I quickly scooped up the still hot pile with my hot pads, drove home stunned, and dumped the mess into the trashcan. By the time Dad arrived at the door, possibly five minutes later, I actually was feeling fine and recovered. Because on the short drive home, I had somehow channeled the experiences of women of yesteryear (I keep reading WWII books) who had real problems, real discouragement, and real tenacity. Sappy thoughts, I know, but better than crying over spilled potatoes.

An hour later, Matt arrived home and announced we were going for treats. He insisted I choose the place of yumminess, and since he has sworn off treats lately, I suspected he had received word of the potato flop. "Dad felt so bad for you, that he put money in my hand and told me take you for ice cream," Matt confessed. They both know my sweet-loving heart.

So, just in case my mental state was not already on the mend, Dad's compassion and generosity guaranteed a good ending.

Continuing education.

I have been spoiled the past couple weeks:

On my birthday, Matt and I attended William Doherty's lecture at BYU, entitled "Parenting Wisely in a Too-Much-of-Everything World." (Yes, it was my idea and Matt's attendance may be considered a birthday gift to me. He did end up enjoying it, though probably not as much as I did.) This highly educated, highly motivated, very enthusiastic and personable man inspired me with his dedication to families. A snippet of the hour-long lecture gives an interesting overview, but I hope to see the whole lecture available soon on BYU-TV. It felt good to be using my family science brain again, this time with a lot more opportunity for personal application of the material.

Last week, as a date completely unconnected to my birthday, we attended a presentation by local artist, James Christensen. I find his work fun and thoughtful, and his personality absolutely genuine and likeable. Matt commented that he is an excellent storyteller, and I think that description applies to his actual paintings as well as his speaking abilities. Though fantasy art is not usually my favorite, there is something charming about Christensen's style. Here are two pieces that really spoke to me. Hmmm, I wonder why.

"The Responsible Woman"

"A Place of Her Own"

Finally, my mother-in-law recently invited me and my sisters-in-law to a private cooking class with another local star, Kelsey Nixon. I learned that this cute Utah girl was a favorite (though not the final winner) on FoodTV's "Next Food Network Star." What an evening: two hours of watching Kelsey prepare, cook, teach, and chat, and of course a fantastic meal at the end of it all. That woman really knows her stuff , and is so friendly I felt like she was one of the family. The bonus for me was twofold: I got delicious recipes I already know I like, and I am inspired to cook again. (Not that I don't prepare meals three times a day, but it has been a couple years since I have truly loved the process.)

So now I've dabbled in Family Theory, Art Appreciation, and Gourmet Cooking, I'm eager to search out more free classes...this is even better than college.

A boy house.

SUMBUDETOODED
"What does that say?" I asked Dallin a couple minutes ago.

He looked down at his paper and giggled. "Somebody tooted."

Oh, brother.

And in this case, it is exactly because of his brother. Just when I think my Matthew and Dallin are well-mannered, they turn back into boys.

My tax dollars at work.

"This letter is to inform you that Matthew's school lunch account is delinquent in the amount of $0.40. Please pay the amount indicated..."

First thought: What? I swear I send extra money with him just to be sure. He must have forgotten his lunch one day and his account didn't quite cover it.

Second thought: Forty cents is an unusual amount...forty cents, hmmm. That's about the price of a stamp.

Third thought: No, actually that's less than the stamp it took to send this notice. And if they spent maybe another 10 cents for the paper and envelope...that's 52 cents! This letter cost the school district more money than they're going to make after I pay up! Maybe I should send them a notice informing them that they just lost 12 cents in this transaction. I wonder how often such a thing happens.

Final thought: This is going on the blog.

From the peanut gallery.

One of the great things about having family nearby is that I get to hear their accounts of adventures with my children. The following is copied from sister-in-law Megan's blog; I just had to have it in my records as well.

I'm watching my most hilarious nephew, Dallin, right now. The moment he walked through the door he began scouring the house for a snack. He found whole, un-shelled, peanuts.

Dallin: "Ooooh, deese look dood. I woooove peanuts." (translation: these look good, looooove)

Me: "You can have some."

(hear lots of crunching and munching)

Dallin: "Deese are yummy."

Me: (finally paying attention to what he's eating) "Are you eating the WHOLE peanut?"

Apparently yes, and he thought the texture of the peanut hull was quite delicious.

Me, me, me.

Please indulge me while I copy this list of "25 Random Things About Me" from my Facebook, for the sake of my kids who occasionally read our family blog, and for my parents, who are not on Facebook.


1. I attended 7 different elementary schools.

2. Matt is my first and only kiss.

3. I read between 70 and 80 books a year, and I've kept a list of them for the past eight years.

4. I changed my major four times before being brave enough to settle on the one I wanted from my first semester: Family Science. (The others were English, Linguistics, and German.)

5. I took eight years of German, still love the language, teach bits of it to my kids, and hope to vistit Germany someday.

6. Most days, I can hardly get enough of my kids...I love watching them grow, but sometimes wish they wouldn't grow up so fast. I'm so glad they're part of my life, and even hope to have a couple more if they keep turning out so darling. (Note: Today is a good day. There are plenty of days that I think I might go crazy, or that I want to hide away for a while; they are, after all, normal kids, even if they are great.)

7. I can wiggle my nose like Samantha on "Bewitched".

8. I crave stamps on my new passport. Right now the only stamp is from Iceland...Iceland, where I had only an hour layover on my way to 10 days in Denmark. No Denmark stamp, dang it. And no Sweden stamp, even though we drove over the bridge and spent a fantastic evening there. Iceland, my foot.

9. I am almost always nervous about saying the wrong thing in a conversation; and I think I usually say too much when I do start talking.

10. Jane Austen is my favorite author, but I didn't discover her until I was 23ish.

11. I eat way too many treats.

12. If I were to start a career besides mom/homemaker, I would be a librarian.

13. I truly love being Mormon. Here is goodness and truth.

14. It takes me so long to finish a home decorating project that I sometimes find my taste as changed by the time I get to the end.

15. I worked at Pizza Hut throughout high school and after my freshman year at college.

16. I miss the trees of Pennsylvania, but also love the mountain views right outside my window. Wish I could have both at the same time...do you think the neighbors would mind if I planted a forest in my yard?

17. I wish I had appreciated college more fully.

18. My only extra-curricular activity in high school was colorguard (flag & sabre--loved it). I have never played any sports, starred in any plays, sung in any school choirs, or played any instruments (except saxophone during 5th grade, but I don't count that).

19. I recently got glasses for the first time, but they tell me I need them only for driving, so it's not likely anyone besides my kids will ever see me wearing them.

20. I love Christmas music...from the first ones played on the radio before Thanksgiving to the lingering ones I play on the CD player until mid-January.

21. I cannot stand the movie "Titanic". And others, too, but that one always sticks out as one of my least favorites.

22. I always look forward to weekly dates with Matt, even if it's just watching a movie from Netflix.

23. I'm trying to understand poetry and Shakespeare, but not making much headway.

24. I was once--no, actually twice--mistaken for a boy. I will never have a pixie haircut again.

25. I ran out of things to write around #14, but pushed on because I must finish and post this thing before I analyze and agonize over my "randomness" too much.

A fuzzy-brained day.

I think it is obvious from the above photo that Nathaniel is equal parts adorable and mischievous.

He awoke me at 2am this morning (last night?) with sleepy, upset calls of "Wet, wet!" I stumbled to his room and found him naked, and, yes, very wet. His body, his bedding, his mattress: absolutely soaked. After dressing him, carrying off his sheet and blankets, and spreading a dry blanket (I wasn't undoing the crib bumper and pulling out the mattress right then), I replaced Nate and returned, still stumbling, to bed.

Alas, this was just the beginning. For the next two hours he alternately sang in bed, pounded on his bedroom door, called for milk or crackers, "rested" on my bed when I was desperate for at least a doze, and called for Daddy, who sleeps amazingly well. I don't know exactly when Nate fell asleep, but the last time I heard him was at 4am.

I awoke with a start late at 8:20am, scrambled to get the kids ready and to the bus-stop, turned on a show for Dallin, and went back to bed...for about 15 minutes. Because apparently middle-of-the-night parties don't affect Nate the way they affect me. I ignored his cheerful calls for another 20 minutes, gave up, and got up. Now, the difference, I find, between waking with newborn babies and waking with toddlers, is that newborns at least sleep during the day, thus giving mom a chance to recover; toddlers, however, run with their usual energy while mom drags around in her pajamas, looking forward to naptime.

And now it's naptime, and that monkey is playing in his crib as my own nap plan goes out the window. I'm off now to coax him one more time, with hopes that my brain will clear sometime today.