Out of a Paper Bag: Installment #2 of "Terrianne and Shulamith fly to New York City to see four Broadway shows in three days!"

My spouse, our five children, their spouses (the two who have them), and any of my close friends will gladly testify to the fact that I have no sense of direction. Truth is I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag. One night I left the temple after serving on the evening shift, and wandered the parking lot for 30 minutes before texting Shulamith and Eli to report that I could not locate my car. "Don't worry," I texted. "I'll just keep searching. It has to be here. I just wanted you to know why I'm still not home." Eli and Amanda were just about to jump in their car and come rescue me, when finally, there it was: my car. Parked exactly where I left it six hours earlier.

I never know which way to go, and when I choose, 90% of the time, I choose wrong. The struggle, as they say, is real. So you can only imagine my apprehension about riding the NYC subway. Eeeeeek! When my mom and I were in New York, she paid for us to take Ubers or Taxis everywhere, but Shulamith and I wanted to save money, and Isaiah assured us we could navigate the subway just fine. By that he meant Shulamith could do it; he knows better than to think I could. I mean just look at this mess:

Like all maps, it resembles a package of cooked Ramen noodles thrown down on a page in random chaos. Meaningless. But Shulamith attacked it like a boss. Thanks to her, we owned that subway, riding from the airport to our hotel on Times Square, from our hotel to the 911 memorial and back, and finally to the airport to fly home. She read that Ramen noodle map but was better assisted by the marvelous Google Maps app, which told us exactly where to go and what to do. 

Besides those longer excursions, we did what she and I like to do best: We walked! We are known throughout our neighborhood housing development and our ward (which are basically the same thing) as the girls who walk all the time. Our favorite walk in NYC was the morning we walked to Central Park. It was every bit as lovely as I imagined, trees blowing in the breeze, people strolling along with their dogs on leashes, seemingly unending trails of pavement. We wish we could walk there every day.

I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag, but we found everything we needed and more. Stay tuned for further installments of "Terrianne and Shulamith fly to New York City to see four Broadway shows in three days."

Shorter posts, solid clickbait, and pictures!

Based on my purely anecdotal and fully non-scientific research, readers tend to prefer shorter posts and those that include solid clickbait and at least one picture. It's true. Based on my stats for both page views and longevity of interest, posts with those three elements are always the most popular.

That's why, as I debated ideas for how to share our recent NYC trip, I decided to break it up into several shorter stories. And to add pictures. And to pay close attention to that oh so critical clickbait in the title and lead sentence. 

If you are reading this, my strategy worked (at least for this first installment of "Terrianne and Shulamith fly to New York City to see four Broadway shows in three days!").

To start out, I've decided that the most successful trips happen when the people involved are compatible travel companions. For Shulamith and me, this is definitely the case. To illustrate, many travelers prefer to wake up early in the morning and get right out there, in order to squeeze in the absolute most out of a day. We are not those people. We love to wake up leisurely. We lie in our beds, take a few seconds to open our eyes, and breathe. Eventually, we grab our phones and reconnect with life just a bit, while eating various pieces of the candy stash that lies on the nightstand between us. Then, with a click of the remote control, we open the blackout blinds to a spectacular view of the city:

We do get up and out eventually, but there is no rush. Then, after a fabulous day of, well, everything (!), we return to our room. But not before seeking out and buying a delectable dessert to eat while lying in our beds, sipping Diet Coke, and enjoying the same view only the night time version:

One night we had these amazing cookies from a place called Levain Bakery. Just one cookie was like a full meal; they are at least an inch thick! I had oatmeal raisin, and Shulamith had chocolate chip. Mmmmmm! The next night, because we waited so long to get our bedtime dessert, we struggled to find something still open that wasn't ice cream, which would melt before we got back to our hotel room. We wound up with cookies once again, this time from a different place. We brought back several different kinds, and they were all fine but nothing compared to Levain.

So there's your short post, those of you who don't like to read anything lengthy. Stay tuned for more installments to come, including reports on more food and drink, transportation, and my personal take on the four shows!

Some days the stars align!

Isaiah has three passions: international travel, politics, and the NBA. So yesterday was a bit of a dream day for him. He didn't get to travel anywhere, but he served as a delegate to the Utah State Democratic convention. When he and Gerald attended our party caucuses a few weeks ago, they were the only two present from our precinct. I felt bad for staying home, but it had been a long, exhausting day, and I had class the following morning at 7:00 a.m. down in Orem. I thought there would be lots of people there; our precinct up in Sandy always had a decent sized group. Guess I forgot that we now live just a hop, skip, and a jump from the Utah County line. Not so many Dems round these parts. Gerald has served as a delegate for several years, but this time he abdicated the position to Isaiah.

The big vote yesterday was whether to run a Democrat in the U.S. Senate race against incumbent Mike Lee (and lose), or to throw support behind Independent candidate Evan McMullin, who has a remote chance of winning. There was tremendous pressure among some at the convention to run a Democratic candidate. Many feel there is virtue in supporting a candidate you respect, admire, and actually like, even if losing in inevitable. 

Isaiah is far too pragmatic for such an approach. In his opinion (and mine as well), if there is even the slightest chance of unseating Mike Lee (you know, the guy who's not sure he even believes in climate change, but says if it's really a thing, the way to solve it is to get married and have more babies), we need to take it. Yes, I 100% agree with Isaiah's decision to vote in favor of supporting McMullin rather than running a candidate from our party. And no, I'm surely no fan of Evan McMullin; I probably disagree with him on most issues, plus he was super rude to Isaiah at a rally this past fall. I guess Isaiah doesn't look old enough or powerful enough to matter to him. However, he's far better than Lee, so if there's even a slight chance, then, yes: I'm Team McMullin!

And guess what? Some days the stars align. The vote went Isaiah's way, and Dems will not put forth a candidate to run against Lee in November, but instead encourage support for Evan McMullin.

Then...there's Isaiah's other passion: the NBA.

Our favorite team, the Utah Jazz, played its fourth game of the first round of the playoffs yesterday afternoon, against the Dallas Mavericks. We were 1-2 going in and felt like this was a "must win" since we were home, and Game #5 would be played back in Dallas. Isaiah was still at the convention during the first half, which he watched on his phone as much as he could, then listened to the third quarter as he drove home. Most of the fourth quarter found him pacing the floor, head in hands, alternating between joy and despair depending on how each play went. But he was there to see our incredible team fight to the end and pull out a "W" after being down four points with only 37 seconds left to play. It was insaaaaaane! Careful strategizing on both ends of the court and stellar performances by Gobert, Mitchell, Clarkson, and Bogdanovac made the magic happen. We have ourselves a series, as we return to Dallas 2-2.

Some days the stars align. For Isaiah, yesterday was one of those days.

Why would you stop when they leave home?

A FB friend posted pictures of her three kids hunting for Easter eggs, with the words, "The kids say they want Easter egg hunts until they leave home." My response: "Why would you stop when they leave home?" Although only one of our kids currently lives here full time and another comes and goes with college breaks, all four who reside in the Salt Lake Valley come home for Easter and hunt for eggs. I mean why should all the fun end when kids grow up? No reason I can think of.

I was woefully behind this year. Sunday morning found me prepping Easter baskets and rushing to fill all the plastic eggs with yummy chocolate delights, while trying to watch a bit of stake conference, which was broadcast because our stake is too large for everyone to meet in person. Can I just mention here that waiting until the last minute is not my style; I'm usually super organized and skillfully avoid the stress of last-minute hurrying. But this time, nope. Didn't happen. That's because I have no weekends this semester. I teach Friday mornings in Orem from 7:00 to 11:00 a.m. Then I serve in the temple from 1:00 - 6:00 p.m. And Saturday I teach all day at SLCC. Fortunately, this schedule ends this coming Saturday. Hallelujah! (Note to self: Never again agree to teach on Friday mornings or all day Saturday.)

The tricky part came when Seth arrived before I had a chance to hide the eggs. I immediately texted Shulamith: "Seth is already here, and the eggs are not hidden! What do I do?" Her response: "Just hide them nonchalantly; he'll never notice." She knows her baby brother well. But then Isaiah went downstairs to hang out with Seth, so there they were, the two of them, sprawled out in the living room, solving world problems. These two are practically clones, and I love that they are such close friends, despite their 9-year age difference. 

But help! Now I needed to hide all these eggs without either of them noticing. Could it be done? Indeed. I proceeded to hide 30 plastic eggs throughout the main level of the house (including the living room), entirely unnoticed. Later that night, Seth asked, "When did you hide all the eggs? I didn't see any of them when I first got here."

Once Shulamith and Eli, Amanda, and Jane arrived, we ate yummy ribs that Shulamith had smoked all day, along with her famous pasta salad, and baked potatoes. Eli and Amanda brought my favorite bread from Harmon's. If you haven't tried Harmon's white chocolate pecan bread, you should probably go get some today. 

The egg hunt was a huge success; I think Seth collected the most, closely followed by Eli and Amanda. 

After dinner, we added to the Easter festivities by also celebrating Isaiah's birthday, which was two days earlier. We got our favorite Costco cake, and Seth's girlfriend, Sav, brought not just one pie, but two (!), banana cream and Oreo. So it was pretty much dessert heaven!

In the middle of all this, we finally put Jane in this little pink dress. My grandpa brought it back from Switzerland when I was a baby, and I was the first to wear it. Since then, we've made sure all the baby girls in the family wear it at least once, including Shulamith, Kennedy, and now Jane.

Finally, every Easter needs baskets:

Because why would you stop when they leave home?

Should we just stay and eat the food? (The Story of Two Shower Crashers)

"You have arrived," Shulamith's GPS announced. We stared at a mound of dirt and a couple houses still under construction, nothing remotely resembling a place where a baby shower might be. "Let me make sure I put in the right address," she said. "Wait, no, I'm one number off."

She quickly put in the correct address, and her phone told her we were just one mile away. Yayyy! We won't be too late. Off we went. 

Following the confident voice of the GPS lady, we weaved in and out of blocks, through various streets and cul-de-sacs until finally arriving at our destination. There was no house number visible, but tons of cars were parked nearby, including one with a woman inside and her car door open. Shulamith jumped out and walked over to her. "Are you going to the baby shower, and is that the right place?" she asked pointing to the house with the cars all around. "Yes!" the woman replied. "I'm just waiting for my daughter."

Grateful to have found it, we walked up to the door, on which a sign was posted: "Come on in!" so we opened the door and walked inside. There were so many ladies there, at least 30, all gathered in small groups happily chatting. We looked around and didn't see Amy, but we assumed she was hidden somewhere inside one of those groups of friends, or possibly she stepped aside to the restroom. I placed our gift on the gift table, and we continued to wait.

After several minutes standing alone, recognizing no one and not seeing Amy anywhere, Shulamith whispered, "Do you think we're at the right place?"

"Yes?" I answered.

"But where is Amy? Where is her mom? Where is Jessie?"

We knew we wouldn't be acquainted with most of the people attending, but those three at least should be there. 

They weren't. 

Finally, I went back to the gift table to look at the tags on the gifts. Yikes!! Every gift but ours had the name "Brynn" on it. 

Barely able to contain ourselves from breaking out into uncomfortable and inappropriate laughter, we retrieved our gift, awkwardly waived to the room, and announced, "We went to the wrong shower." We quickly left to continue our search for the correct house, but not without remarking to each other that we should have at least stayed long enough to sample the food.

A few houses down, we discovered another home with a few cars around. "Could this be it?" we wondered.

Success!

We walked in and were immediately greeted by a very pregnant Amy, glowing with her natural beauty and grace pouring over and around her. Seated behind her was her sweet mom, whom I hadn't seen in 18 years since we left Mt. Vernon in 2004. A handful of other former Mt. Vernon folks were also there; all roads lead to Utah, I guess. It was a delightful time reliving memories and catching up on nearly two decades of life. Kids have grown up. Spouses have been added. New babies have been born. We haven't changed in the least. Thank goodness.

Amy opened lovely gifts, including a Beaded Blessed bracelet, for which we all selected two beads to bless Amy with everything good as she enters into motherhood. Shulamith and I share our joy and love for Amy, who, growing up, was the closest thing to a sister Shulamith ever had. This yearned for and long awaited baby girl is a miracle for sure and an answer to many prayers. 

I can't wait to meet her one day.

Do you like surprises?

It's not the easiest question to answer. For me, it definitely depends on the circumstances. I LOVE surprises on Christmas. Unlike many moms, I never let my kids know what their gifts are ahead of time. If I think they even suspect, I get them something else. Christmas is about surprises. But what about surprise parties? Like for birthdays? 

That's very different. I don't think anyone has ever thrown me a surprise birthday party, and let me be clear: That is just fine. The last thing I'd want is to arrive somewhere to find a bunch of my friends, when I didn't know they were coming. I mean just imagine me in my "sub-casual" look: pajama bottoms, sweatshirt, stringy hair, no makeup. Now imagine this "me" walking into a surprise birthday party with a bunch of people. Terrifying, I tell you.

As surprise parties go, you really need to know the person well and understand his or her level of comfort with being blindsided. For that reason, I've thrown surprise birthday parties for only two of my kids: Shulamith and Eli. Luke and Isaiah would never want a surprise party. They don't even like un-surprise parties, particularly. Isaiah humors me and lets me bake him a cake on his birthday, gather the family, give him a present, and sing; but given the choice, I'm pretty sure he'd pass on even that much attention.

Oh my goodness! It just occurred to me that I have no idea how Seth would feel about a surprise party. Hmmm? My guess is he'd be okay with it? But it's not something he'd truly appreciate? I've never thrown him a surprise party, and he still loves me very much, so I guess that's okay.

When Shulamith turned 14, I threw her a surprise birthday party. I was 8 months' pregnant with Seth, but I managed to pull off a successful surprise that included a dozen teenage girls, and miraculously, Shulamith never found out about it. We all gathered at Red Robin in Burlington, WA, and the girls helped me decorate. Decorating is surely not my strength, so I was grateful they were there. (Hi, Tia! Hi, Lynnsey!) At the appointed time, my mom arrived with Shulamith. She walked in and noticed me first. "Mom? What are you doing here?" Then she looked up and saw all her friends seated around a big oblong table, just as they shouted "Surprise!" It was perfect. She opened so many nice gifts, and we all dined on burgers and fries, tons of ice cream, cake and candy. I think she was so happy.

Seven years later, as Eli approached age 14, I asked Shulamith if she thought he would like a similar event. "Oh, he definitely would. I loved mine!" This time around it was less formal, mostly because I didn't know his friends nearly as well as I knew Shulamith's. His best friend Jonah helped me know whom to invite, and a bunch of guys showed up at a pizza place in Billings, MT. I don't remember a lot about what happened after that, other than lots of pizza eating, soda drinking, and teenage boy humor. But I think Eli liked it.

Last weekend, in celebration of Eli's 29th birthday, Amanda threw him a yet another surprise party. She even managed to find decorations themed with classic horror film villains. Eli, possibly the gentlest, kindest soul I've ever known, is obsessed with horror flicks, the gorier the better. I took Eli out for some shaved ice custard, while Amanda decorated their house with scary pictures hanging from the ceiling, and everyone arrived. It was a small gathering, just our family plus Amanda's brother and his family, but they all hid with the lights low, and jumped out with a hearty  "Surprise!" as we walked in the door. Another success! I don't think Eli had any idea. He got several fun presents: tickets to the upcoming Ice Nine Kills concert, Lego, Stance socks, and lots of good wishes, but he says the best present is this girl right here:

Happy birthday, Eli! We all love you so much.

Let the celebrating begin!

"I'd like to report that I am officially on spring break, a whole nine minutes early. Let the celebrating begin!"

This was my text on our family group thread Saturday, when I released my afternoon class at 3:41 p.m., rather than 3:50. That's how badly I needed spring break; I couldn't even wait another nine minutes. It isn't that this semester is especially bad; I like my classes and my students mostly. As is often the case when we feel overwhelmed, too many circumstances (any one of which, by itself, wouldn't be troublesome), coexisting simultaneously, have made it a challenging eight weeks. 

First, neither my students nor I are accustomed to being in the classroom quite so much. This is the first semester since spring 2020 that I've been in person for all my classes. Even this past fall, I had one online class and one livestream broadcast. I'm a wimp, so 15 hours a week of in-person teaching feels like a lot. And my students? Yeah, they aren't used to it either. Since COVID, they seem to think attendance is optional. They also kind of expect that I won't require them to meet any deadlines, because we relaxed our policies so much during the past two years.

For example, one student asked to meet with me last week, so I could help him "figure out how to do better in the class." I had no idea who he was when he emailed me because I had only seen him twice in eight weeks. Our conversation went like this:

Him: Sorry I haven't been coming to class.

Me: Is there some problem I should know about?

Him: Well, it's just that 7:00 a.m. is so early! I just can't come that early. I stay up late doing other things, and if I get up in time to be in class at 7:00, I won't get nearly enough sleep.

Me: But you signed up for a 7:00 a.m. class, so...

Him: I know, but it's just too early.

Me: Okay, let's look at your grades. It looks like you have 49% currently, and you haven't completed any of the weekly reading responses.

Him: I know. I really don't like reading textbooks, especially English textbooks. They just go on and on and on, blah, blah, blah, and it's so boring. I can't read them.

Are you beginning to understand why I needed spring break? And just to be clear, I don't love 7:00 a.m. classes either, especially way down at UVU in Orem! I'm definitely a morning person, but what I like to do in the mornings is SLEEP. So yeah, when my alarm sounds at 5:45 a.m. every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I go through every stage of the grieving process. You can be sure I won't be setting an alarm this week (other than Sunday, when we have the stupid 9:00 church block). 

I also don't love teaching all day Saturday. I have an 8:30-11:50 a.m. class on the SLCC Redwood campus and a 1:00-3:50 p.m. class on the Jordan campus. Saturday students tend to be pretty cool, and this time is no exception. Still, I'm in class the entire day. Not my favorite.

In addition, I desperately need to deep clean my house. I'm struggling (and failing) even to keep up with the daily maintenance and regular weekly cleaning tasks; I've had no time for any of the more intense projects. That's for sure happening this week. Exciting? Nope. But what choice do I have?

Finally, this week Imma wear pajamas all day, every day, and enjoy not going anywhere. If I decide to get dressed and go out, it will be because I choose to, not because I have to.

I can't remember a semester when I was this excited for spring break; I really need it this time around.

Let the celebrating begin!