Precious Fleeting Moments

I know we're supposed to behave as adults. That means accepting the inevitable changes that come with life whether we like them or not. You would think that by now, I'd have this figured out. You would think that I could handle life's curves with grace and even look for the opportunity they might provide.

And sometimes, I can. But not always. Not when it comes to my friends moving far away. Two years ago, one of my two best friends moved to Texas. Yes, all the way to Texas! I did not like it then, and I do not like it now, not one bit. Since Celeste left, Lindsey and I have been able to visit her twice, but the last time was nearly a year ago. That is until this past weekend. Celeste came to Montana for a brief visit to attend her sister's high school graduation in Glendive. The day she flew back, she had about three hours to spend with us here in Billings.

Three hours. Precious fleeting moments. We all look happy in this picture, and we were. Truly. Happy to see each other after nearly a year. Happy to be together, even if only for a short time. Still, underneath those smiles were feelings of angst, sadness, longing. It was lovely to be together, but as each moment passed, we knew it was that much closer to the time we'd need to take Celeste to the airport and say goodbye yet again. The experience made Lindsey and me long to go to Texas. We would so love to be there when Celeste's fourth daughter is born next month. But we can't. For so many reasons, we just can't. And so the 180 minutes flew by, and she flew home.

After we left her and Molly at the airport, Lindsey's son Jase began to cry. Is that the right word? Scream? Some combination of cry and scream. "I want Celeste to come to my house right now," he exclaimed. Me too, Jase. Me too. His outburst was, in fact, the perfect reflection of everything I felt inside at that moment. I appreciate that he expressed it so well. Leave it to children to say what we cannot.

For the record and for future readers who may not recognize everyone in this photo, Celeste is on the left holding 2-year-old Molly. Lindsey is in the middle with 20-month-old Hanna. Then there's me with Lindsey's older daughter Emma. The photographer was 4-year-old Jase, and if you think it's a great picture, well he's a genius. Seriously.

We are adults, and we are to behave like adults. Change is inevitable. Blah, blah, blah.

Precious fleeting moments.

They're probably going to throw you in jail!

Recently, we had several messages on our home phone from the United States Census Bureau asking us to return their calls. I completed the census questionnaire for our family a long time ago, so I couldn't figure out what they wanted. I ignored them for a while, but they were persistent, so I finally called them back, only to find out that we were randomly selected to take part in a more detailed phone questionnaire. This took over an hour, so be grateful if you don't have to do it.

Before I got around to calling them, however, Seth had this to say:

"You probably lied about your age on the census, and they're probably going to throw you in jail!"

"Date Night," plus Seth!

Recently, after watching the movie "Date Night," I began to reflect on the history of our "date nights" in the past 20+ years. Back when all four kids (pre-Seth) were little, we had to hire baby-sitters if we wanted to go out by ourselves. That was expensive. If you add the cost of the baby-sitter to the cost of dinner to the cost of a movie (assuming the date includes dinner and movie), you wind up with quite an expenditure for just one night. So yeah, we did this occasionally, but not often. For those of you reading who are still in this situation, I have some excellent advice:

1. Have more kids!

2. Have lots of kids!

3. And be sure to spread them out.

That's what we did, and it worked out great. We only had to do the baby-sitter thing for about 11 years. After that we were home free. We had live-in baby-sitters! Once Luke and Shulamith were 11 and 10 respectively, we felt comfortable leaving them to care for Isaiah and Eli. Even as the two big kids grew into teenagers, we could generally count on at least one of them being home on any given evening. No more money down the drain on baby-sitters.

Time went on. Seth was born. Luke and Shulamith left for college, one right after the other. Problem? No. Because we followed Advice #3 above, when Shulamith left for college, we had a whole five years before Isaiah would leave. Isaiah and Eli were 13 and 11 respectively, the perfect ages to take over baby-sitting duty for 4-year-old Seth. Score! We could still have "date night" without paying a baby-sitter.

The thing we failed to consider in all this was what we would do with Seth once the "little boys" (Isaiah and Eli) grew up and left for college. Which brings us to where we are today. Isaiah, who was always the home-body and, consequently, our primary baby-sitter for Seth, left for college this past fall. Eli, who technically lives here, is seriously gone more than he's home. Between school activities, his job, church stuff, and an active social life, Eli is practically never home.

That leaves us with 9-year-old Seth and no live-in baby-sitter. Problem? I thought it might be, but really, it hasn't turned out that way. We simply take him with us the majority of the time, and it is truly more fun that way. He is quite delightful; we love having him with us. He brings his DSI (hand-held video game system) for those times when our conversation becomes too boring to tolerate, but most of the time he seems content to interact with us old parents.

Last evening, we decided to to eat Chinese food at a restaurant that had been highly recommended by several friends. Seth was excited because he loves Chinese food, and this place had a buffet, so he could get whatever he wanted and as much as he wanted. His favorite item on the buffet was barbecued ribs. Seth LOVES ribs, but ribs are not the easiest food to eat, and by the time he had eaten several, his fingers and face were covered with barbecue sauce. In a moment of confusion over what to do, Seth looked at his fingers, looked at us, and then wiped his hands on his pants, attempting to rid himself of the sticky sauce.

"Seth!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing? Use your napkin to clean your hands, NOT your pants."

"But, Mom," he replied, "I'm planning to change these pants tonight anyway."

Ugh. It gets even worse.

After that, he still had his face to contend with, so with his lizard-like tongue, he proceeded to lick first his top lip, then his bottom one, methodically, removing all the sauce.

"SETH!" I gasped.

"Mom. This is a good way to wash your face. It's very effective."

After a brief and comical discussion about the importance of good table manners, we finally left. It was a fun night. He is a fun companion.

"Date night," plus Seth. What could be more perfect?

The Very Hungry Mom

In the light of the moon, an airplane destined for Salt Lake City sat on a runway.

One Wednesday evening, the airplane took off, landed, and -pop- out of the plane came a very hungry mom.

She started to look for some food.

On Thursday, she ate through one hot dog, one roast beef and cheese sandwich, and ten french fries. But she was still hungry.

On Friday, she ate through two doughnuts, one teriyaki chicken sandwich, 12 potato chips, one cookie, one bowl of sausage/potato soup, one salad, and two bread-sticks. But she was still hungry.

On Saturday, she ate through two pancakes, one chicken burrito, one New York strip steak, one salad, two rolls, and one garlic mashed potato. But she was still hungry.

On Sunday, she ate through two eggs, one waffle, one honey-seared chicken rice bowl, and one southwest chicken salad. But she was still hungry.

On Monday, she ate through one bagel with cream cheese, two slices of pizza, and four pieces of cheesy bread. But she was still hungry.

On Tuesday, she ate through one Quarter Pounder with cheese, 12 french fries, one lamb tenderloin, seven roasted potato sections, and one slice of banana cream cheesecake. That night she had a stomachache.

The next day was Wednesday again, and the mom ate through one more piece of cheesecake, and after that, she felt much better. Now she wasn't hungry anymore, and she wasn't normal-sized anymore. She was a big fat mom. She flew to the Denver Airport. She stayed there for over four hours. Then, finally, she boarded another airplane and flew to her home in Billings, where she will need to do P90X doubles and eat nothing for the next three months in order to be fit to wear a bathing suit in Costa Rica!

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Note: The charming children's story The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle was the first book Luke and Shulamith “read” (memorized and pretended to read) when they were very young. It holds precious memories for me. Now, 20 years later, Shulamith is sharing this book with her kindergarten class as they observe first hand the metamorphosis of a butterfly. For this reason, and also because she ate through the past week right along with me, this post is dedicated to her.

This and That

Shulamith is in a faculty meeting for the next 90 minutes (blah!), so here I am in her classroom, chillin' on the computer. And since I can't get access to Facebook here, my lovely blog is my only option. I already spent a goodly amount of time browsing travel sites, checking on airline rates. Can I tell you that I get tired of doing this? Before I'm even home from one trip, I'm dealing with finding the flight for the next one. Two years ago, when Shulamith decided to accept this teaching position, she promised that from that point on, she would do all the searching for flights, so I wouldn't have to. Yeah, it hasn't exactly worked out that way.

Oh, wait... She just texted me from her meeting. She wants candy and pop. Okay, I'm off to 7-11. Back in a bit..

Back. With white chocolate Reese's peanut butter cups, Swedish fish, and of course, Diet Coke. She just came and picked it up, so hopefully it will get her through the next hour until her meeting is over. Yum, these white Reese's cups are better than I expected.

Okay, where was I? Yes, the never-ending search for cheap airline flights. In all fairness, I should point out that sometimes such searches are actually successful. Two days ago, I found Costa Rica flights for $487 each. Can you even believe that? I have paid as much to get Shulamith home to Billings for Thanksgiving. Well this was just too good to pass up, so I bought them. That means we are really going. To Costa Rica. In August. Wow! Now my focus is back to the Portland trip in July for my niece's wedding. I'm seeing some decent rates on StudentUniverse, but only I can use that site; Gerald can't because he's neither a student nor a faculty member at a university. For any of you who are students or faculty at universities and aren't aware of this site, it's definitely worth a look. As for Portland, we'll have to keep searching.

Our weekend was delightful. We spent time in the mall, ate yummy food (Pei Wei, Cafe Rio, Cheesecake Factory, the usual) watched two good movies, and located Shulamith and Matt's new ward which we attended yesterday. For those of you who like the same types of movies I do (Lindsey, Celeste, Lorrie, others?) , I can wholeheartedly recommend both "Letters to Juliet" and "The Back-up Plan." Are they realistic? Nope. Are they predictable? Thoroughly. But do they make you feel good and happy and warm inside. Yes, yes, and yes!

Today, after a quick stop at Einstein's Bagels this morning, we spent the day in kindergarten. Shulamith has a wonderful class this year, so much better than last year, like night and day. These little babies are so cute, I wanted to take them all home. They are bright, loving, and eager to learn. One brilliant little girl even writes complex sentences. No, I'm not joking. She wrote a story in which she incorporated, all on her own, two sentences with dependent clauses. I am way impressed. At the end of the day, Shulamith transferred caterpillar cocoons to the top of a netted cage, so when they hatch in a couple days, the butterflies will have space to fly around. Pretty cool!

She's back! We're so out of here.

UTAH!

I am here. In Utah. And this time (just like last May), I get to stay a whole week. Woo hoo!

Okay, first things first. Shulamith and Matt's little apartment is totally adorable. She had sent me pictures, so I knew it was cute, but in real life it's even cuter. Its only problem at the moment: no Internet connection. Seriously. I don't know how they survive day after day. I, personally, was having withdrawal symptoms by this morning. Yes, I can get Internet on my phone, so I'm not completely isolated from life; however, it takes too long to type anything of substance on my tiny keyboard. (BTW, soon I'll be upgrading my phone, and my #1 criterion: a larger keyboard).

Here we are today in her kindergarten classroom, which has (hooray!) Internet. HOWEVER, Facebook is inaccessible here. It must be blocked. Ugh! So, my thought was if I write a blog entry, it will automatically post on Facebook. If you are reading this, it worked. So today things are unusually quiet here in kindergarten. That's because it's testing week. During this week, Shulamith's students come one at a time for a 30-minute test. She did most of them earlier in the week, but she still had four today, and one is left for tomorrow. It's great because when she's not testing, we have lots of time to hang out, talk, and this year, we're even being somewhat productive. I was here last year during testing week, and we mostly just sat around and talked. Today, though, we've been cleaning and organizing her classroom. We separated all her 5,000,000 children's books into different categories: fiction, non-fiction, fairy tales, math, holidays/seasons, school, Spanish, and ABC books. Then we put each category of book in its own bin, labeled the bins, and scrubbed down all the bookshelves. Oooh, if this isn't serious "therapy" for my OCD, I don't know what is. I love it. Well, except for the one time (okay, two) when I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of a stupid book about those disgusting creatures, long and skinny, with no arms or legs. I think it's child abuse to have such books in a kindergarten classroom.

Tomorrow, with only one test to give, Shulamith will have lots of free time. Our goal is to prepare lesson plans for all next week, so she won't be burdened with planning each day. My hope is to do much of the teaching for her, giving her plenty of down time, which is generally absent from a kindergarten teacher's day. We're planning a unit on measurement, using a cute story, Inch by Inch, Leo Lionni.

Lest you should worry, this trip is not all about work. With seven days here, we'll still have lots of time for our "regular" activities. Movies: There are several Matt and Gerald do NOT wish to see (I know, right?), so those we'll do first. Food: We're both trying to lose 10 pounds, so we won't go overboard, but I can't come to Salt Lake City without hitting Cafe Rio. Also, exactly one year ago, this very week, was the first time I met Matt. The three of us went to a Thai restaurant, and after about 1/2 hour, I texted Gerald saying, "I think he's the one." :-) So we're planning to go back there one night this week for nostalgia's sake. Shopping: YES! No further explanation needed. Beauty: Pedicures for sure, and Monday Shulamith has a hair appointment.

If you can't tell, I'm happy to be here. Six weeks between face-to-face visits was too long. Gerald says everyone's fine at home. Seth has play dates tonight and tomorrow night, so he won't be home alone while Gerald works and Eli goes to a stake dance.

Okay, it's nearly 2:10, when she's allowed to leave for the day. We will go pick up Isaiah, who looks like he's going through cancer treatment. Don't even ask. Okay, ask. He lost a bet to a friend, and the deal was the winner got to do whatever he wanted to the loser's hair. Yeah, Isaiah now has no hair. All those long, curly locks are no more. Nineteen-year-olds. What more can I say? Despite his appearance, we'll go get him and take him grocery shopping. He's out of money at Shaw (food place on campus), but he still has two more weeks here, so we can't let him starve. Then we'll take Shulamith and Matt shopping at Costco and then go to dinner.

More tomorrow. Hopefully, by then, the bird, which has somehow made its way through a hole and into the wall of Shulamith's classroom, will have either escaped or died. No, I'm not kidding.

Gifts

It is now 10:00 p.m., and as Mother's Day 2010 comes to a close, I am thinking about gifts. Some gifts are beautiful and expensive; others are equally beautiful but cost nothing. Some gifts are crafted by tireless hands; others are purchased in fancy stores, and still others are carefully created by tiny fingers in kindergarten classrooms all over the world. Gifts: those things we give and receive in the spirit of grace, generosity, and love.

I have to admit, though, there have been times when I have not felt so graceful, generous, or loving, even on an occasion as special as Mother's Day. It's time to come clean, my friends. Let me explain. In our church it is traditional for the men (the Elders' Quorum, the Bishopric, the High Priests' Group, or some combination of those) to have gifts ready for all the adult women in the ward on Mother's Day. After the closing prayer in Sacrament Meeting, the women are asked to stand, and the young men (boys 12 - 17) go out into the foyer, bring in the gifts, and pass them out to all the sisters. And what do you think those gifts usually are? Candy bars or home-made cookies like we give the men on Father's Day? No! Never! It's always a little plant in a tiny plastic not-so-sturdy container. Every year.

So every year we're forced to carry these plants through our next two meetings, trying to keep the dirt from spilling out as we conduct or teach or lead or sing or whatever we happen to do. If we decide to set our plant down on the floor, you can be absolutely certain that some adorable baby (we keep our children with us in meetings until they are 18 months old) will crawl over and spill it, or worse, eat it! If that doesn't happen, and we manage to get the plant safely into our car, without question, it will spill on the drive home, forcing us to vacuum up dirt on the Sabbath.

Now I realize that I sound horribly ungrateful and unappreciative here, but why can't they give us food like we give them? Don't they understand how much easier that would be? And how much more satisfying? Don't they know how hungry we get during the three-hour block? I'm sure on other days, we often go three hours without food, but seriously, church makes people positively ravenous. How lovely to have a nice candy bar or bag of cookies to tide us over on Mother's Day. But no, it's always those little plants.

Until today.

Today, I had to repent of all my negative thoughts directed toward my brethren and friends. Today, they did not give us plants. No, they did not give us candy or cookies either. They gave us something even better, something that lasts. Today, they gave us music. I nearly jumped out of my pew with joy (and shock!) as the dashing young men entered the chapel carrying stacks of CDs to hand out to the sisters, a collection of hymns both well-known and not so well-known. I haven't had the chance to listen to mine yet, but I can't wait to do so first thing tomorrow. What a perfect gift!

I received some other "perfect" gifts today as well. Some were indirect, that is they were delegated by one sibling down to the next. Isaiah texted Eli last evening to be sure Eli had "done something" about Mother's Day. Eli reassured Isaiah: "Yes, I baked her a cake and bought her two kinds of chocolates and a card." And so he did. Thank you, Eli. Some of my perfect gifts were as simple as a phone call or text message from my three "away" children. Another was even simpler, but equally perfect: a giant hug from Seth.

Gifts. I am thankful today for my many gifts, most especially for my five funny, smart, incredible, unique kids. And I'm thankful too that I didn't get a plant at church.