Abingdon, Virginia

Two days after we returned from Atlanta, we drove five hours up to southwest Virginia to meet with an orthodontist there.

This is the view from his house. Not too shabby.

Later that day we went to the Virginia Highlands festival hot air balloon launch. Clara LOVES hot air balloons (as in, asking us when we're on errands in the car if we can see any hot air balloons--daily, it seems). They were giving out Energizer bunny ears, and Clara loved hers and didn't want to take them off.

There were eleven balloons. Here they are getting ready. Can I just tell you how nice the weather was?! I only got bitten by one mosquito during the couple of hours we were outside. And I don't think I got sweaty once.

Here are a few balloons almost ready for lift-off. It was fun to watch the people work to get them going: first they rolled the balloons out on the grass, then they used huge fans to blow them up most of the way, and then they used the flame (propane?) to lift the balloon up into the air. So fascinating.

One flew right over our heads.

Clara and I flew in a tethered hot air balloon. For years I have had a lifelong goal of going in a hot air balloon. Even though this was tethered, I think I've satisfied that desire with this experience. Clara was excited, but I was nervous for her because I was afraid of what was coming.

Lifting off!

Three ropes were connected to three different automobiles so we didn't fly away. Clara wasn't too thrilled during the experience and started crying loudly. I wasn't surprised--quite frankly I was impressed that she wanted to get on in the first place. For one thing, it's kind of scary up there (only about 30-40 feet off the ground, but it felt much higher!). For another, there was a super hot flame being blown right above our heads that felt like it was going to burn our hair off. And last of all, the flame was SUPER loud, right in our ears. But I was proud of her for being so brave!

The reason for the Energizer bunny ears Clara was wearing earlier. Can you imagine being the seamstress for this hot air balloon? ("You want me to sew what?!")

Check out this sweet miniature hot air balloon.

A fabulous dixie jazz band played some great music, and a good time was had by all.

Back to ATL

While Michael attended conferences in Minneapolis and then in Atlanta, I enjoyed several days with my family in Atlanta. My parents were taking care of my two nieces, Anna and Charlotte, and Clara and I got to spend a lot of time with them, the cuties.

Charlotte is adorable even with bedhead. At church people thought she was mine. I wish!

Anna and Clara determined which dress-up outfits would fit their personalities.

Clara decided on the gangsta/Newsies paperboy look.

Anna went for the flapper/soldier/nerd/hippie look. Oh, and you can't see it, but there's a flower tiara under there as well.


While I was there, I got to spend a couple of hours with two of my fabulous sisters-in-law, Shannyn and Tabitha.

Clark, Shannyn's little boy, was such a cutie. I had fun interacting with him, especially since we haven't spend much time with him.

Adam, Tabitha's son, amazed me with his bravery on the playground. No fear.

Clark was loving the swing.

Clara, Clark, and Anna swinging. Hooray for hot playgrounds on summer days. Don't you think they should manufacture fake shade trees as part of playground setups so these poor kids aren't dripping sweat and getting sunburned out there?

Sweet prayers

Clara often has a hard time saying her prayers and refuses to say the blessing at any meal--I think it's partly having difficulty thinking of things to say and partly her sense of, shall we say, spirited independence. Her bedtime prayer seems to be a less resistant time, but even then it's been a challenge. However, a recent occasion brought the following conversation:

(as we kneel by her bed)

ME: Clara, are you ready to say the prayer?

CLARA: No.

ME: Oh, it makes Heavenly Father so happy when you talk to him--he misses you.

CLARA: Can I sing it?

ME: Um, sure.

CLARA: (singing)
Heavenly Father, are you really there?
And do you hear and answer every child's prayer?
Some say that heaven is far away,
But I feel it close around me as I pray.

(she forgot the words to the next part but then continued on with a little help)

Pray, he is there.
Speak, he is listening.
You are his child
His love now surrounds you.

(A Child's Prayer, Children's Songbook, p. 12)


It was a tender moment for me. Since then, we discovered that if we "sing-talk" words (sing the words of the prayer on some sort of pitch), she will often repeat them in a similarly "sing-talk" sort of way as we pray together. It also seems to help her think of ideas of what to pray for. She has sung, "And please help the thunder to not come on," as she is terrified of thunder.

Tonight when it came time for prayers, she asked again, "Can I sing, Mama?"


Oh yes, Sweetpea. Please do.

Too many recipes

(Warning: random rant to follow)

Lately I have come to the realization that while I like having choices, I don't like having too many choices. I like to pick between, say, seven different types of shampoo . . . not forty-five. I like the idea of a huge variety, but when faced with reality, I find myself spending far too long staring at the back of a billion pasta sauce cans to determine which is the healthiest and cheapest.

Google Image

(Cereal might be the only exception to the rule, although I doubt I'll ever be able to try them all in my lifetime. I love you, cereal.)


This issue acutely rears its massive head when it comes to recipes. Oh, I know I'm not alone. You think to yourself, "Hmmm. I'm bored of the 'same old thing' for dinner. I'll look on allrecipes, bettycrocker, kraftfoods, southernliving, betterhomesandgardens, cookinglight, epicurious, rachaelray, marthastewart, americastestkitchen (you name it) and see what looks good and what I have the ingredients for."

The thing is, WE ALREADY HAVE THOUSANDS OF RECIPES AT HOME, PEOPLE! At least I do, and I don't even have that many recipe books. I know that some women collect cookbooks like they collect handbags--one for every possible occasion and then some.

I have to admit--there is something seductive about flipping through the pages of a beautifully-photographed cookbook. I also shamelessly confess that no more than two months ago I plopped right down on the floor in Borders, longingly reading, admiring, and coveting cookbooks.
(Oh man. Williams Sonoma and their cookbooks. That company exists only to tantalize me.)

Moving on.

What is it, exactly, that makes us think that there is "something better out there?" Is it the number of finger muscles required to manipulate a mouse versus flipping a page? Is it the thirst for more choices? More variety? I mean, who, honestly, has actually made even HALF of the recipes in just one of the cookbooks they own? I gots a whole lotta recipes I ain't even tried yet. And I've been married for nearly seven years.


So, I've decided to organize my recipes. It's still in the works, but I can't tell you how thrilled I am. I have so many recipes I have yet to try. Who's to say that some homebody on Allrecipes has a better recipe than one from one of my beloved cookbooks?

I thought I'd introduce you to a few of my favorites.

Ah yes, the Mormon Family Cookbook, published in 1982. I think my mom was going to throw it out, but I mean, that would just have been WRONG.

You might be wondering what that rather fascinating-looking dish is in the upper righthand corner. It's called the Green and Gold Vegetable Ring and is made of carrots and peas, along with eggs, milk, and some other deliciousness.

What? That doesn't look too appetizing? Well, look no farther than this next selection.

Oh, don't tell me you're not dying to make a Ribbon Jell-O cake. I mean, come ON!

Actually, in all seriousness, I love the Irish Soda Bread recipe in here. And I've tried a few others that I've really liked. It's a keeper, if nothing else than for nostalgia's sake.

So if you ever need to make Bishop's Bread, Chicken Liver Pate, Salmon Loaf (those two words just should never be paired), or Pickled Beets, I'd be happy to get you the recipe.

Next, I'd like to introduce you to the cookbook of my youth. I STILL use this rock-awesome cookbook occasionally, although I unfortunately failed to give you a sneak peek. The delicious Pizza Porkchops recipe looks fancy schmancy but is easy peasy.

If any of you have ever seen this cookbook, or even, should you be privileged enough to actually own a copy, you are lucky indeed. I'm thinking I could get millions on the American Girl black market.

What do you mean there is no American Girl black market?

I adored this cookbook and still do. Too bad I have only made two or three things from it. But it's what Samantha, Kirsten, and Molly ATE! Yes, I realize I'm showing my age since I loved American Girls when there were only three dolls instead of forty. See, there are just too many choices.

Doesn't Molly just make you want to jump right in and start cooking? It did for me as a ten-year-old.


Sorry, I'm not going to show you my old Betty Crocker standby or the totally fabulous Better Homes and Gardens Baking cookbook my parents got me when I turned 16 (along with a Williams Sonoma apron that I still wear all the time), 'cuz, let's face it, those are so blase compared to these ones.

Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to organize my innumerable recipes and start--gasp!--using the ones I already have. Then I can write notes in my cookbooks or on my printouts like "Yikes!" or "Fairly decent" or "Heaven on a plate" on them so I'll remember what I thought. Or, get this, I can chuck the putrid recipes so I'm left with a magnificent collection of recipes that my baking ancestry would be proud of.


Dunford Bakery, here I come.

Blueberries! (say it with an British accent--you know you want to)

Saturday morning was perfect. It brought an unseasonably cool and deliciously dry morning for us to pick blueberries.

Who could help but smile when there are literally millions of berries at arm's--or rather, hand's--length?

Oh, mama.

There was an idyllic horse pasture at the end of the blueberry grove, and this one was eager for a handout. Brave Clara!

He was a fan.

Hooray for fields of grass and especially for blueberries at $8.00 a gallon.

No talking

A year or two ago my mother-in-law suggested a book to me by Andrew Clements entitled No Talking. (He's written lots of other good children's books, too.) It is a quick read, but the message was thought-provoking.

Essentially, some kids have a contest (boys against girls) that they can't speak at all (maybe for a week? I can't quite recall the details). If an adult talks to them and they have to answer, they can only use three words. That's it. Anyway, there is much more to the story, but essentially, the jist you get by the end is not only the power of words, but the power of their absence.

In my efforts to learn how I can best help Clara connect socially, listen and follow directions, and communicate more appropriately, I've looked into a program called Relationship Development Intervention, which is a very cool but very expensive ($10,000 and up) program for kids on the autism spectrum. Along a much cheaper avenue, I ordered an RDI book containing exercises and games to play with your child to improve certain skills. One of them is a "no-talking" game. You choose an activity where normally you would have to talk (e.g. not watching TV) and then you just don't. You can mime, point, and be very expressive otherwise.

The first time I tried this, we were cleaning up Clara's room. This is a daily struggle. When I stopped talking, Clara made so much more eye contact with me. She had to look at me to find out what she needed to put away next. And not only that, it was FUN for her! And for me, too. I realized then, and have been reminded several times since, that my frustration levels are so much lower when I simply use FEWER words. What a novel idea. Instead of trying to convince her or powerfully (tongue in cheek) persuade her through my speech, I used actions, pointing, and very (corny) facial expressions to get her to do things.

Last week during our "techno-free week" when I lost my voice, I did this some, too. It's quite liberating to just shut your trap and let your body do the talking. One thing Clara struggles with is using non-verbal communication herself, so occasionally we practice nodding or shaking our heads, etc.

Another principle that the RDI book talks about is speaking more slowly. SLOWLY. And using fewer words when you do speak. I guess I can be a pretty fast talker sometimes (all the time?). When I slow down, I feel silly and stilted, but Clara certainly pays more attention. The concept is that speech is a commodity, and the only way you make it more valuable is to make it less available. Interesting concept, isn't it? I constantly forget, but I'm trying to get better. I think all children could benefit from having less spoken at (notice I didn't say "to") them.

How can I expect my child to listen to me if I talk so much all she hears is the Peanuts comic strip teacher, "Wah-wah, wah wah wah, wah wah"?


Maybe actions really do speak louder than words.

Techno-free week retrospective

Ahh, it feels good to be back.

I'm not going to lie to you--this last week was challenging. But I learned a lot. I learned that I really love music (not like that was anything new) and really missed listening to it in the car with Clara or on the CD player at home. Granted, it's almost always her music, but still, it was music nonetheless. A huge bummer about this week was that I got a cold the week previously and then this week had laryngitis, so my plans to sing a lot together were thwarted because my voice was gone for several days. We had a lot of silence instead. (But more on that in another post.)

I learned that moderation in all things is best. For example, I don't think there's anything wrong with letting Clara watch one or two Blue's Clues DVD episodes after quiet time (after she cleans up her room). But I want to do it less frequently, maybe three times a week, say. I don't want to depend on it as part of our routine, as in I'm mentally thinking, "Five days a week at 3:00 Clara watches a show for 45 minutes," which I confess was frequently my gameplan in times past. I don't know. I'll have to keep thinking about it.

As for the computer, that was definitely the hardest part. I realized it was silly for me to limit the entire computer--I should have just limited it to the Internet, since that is my main time-waster. I have a pile of receipts to enter into our finances and other things I now need to do this week that didn't require the Internet. And for the record, I did limit it to 10 minutes a day, except yesterday when I think it was more like 16 or something. Sorry.

A huge plus to not being online was that I felt less of the "world" and its influence. That was nice, but also somewhat isolating as a stay-at-home mom. Again, moderation in all things. I'm trying to think up a good way to limit my Internet time--maybe half an hour a day, or only getting on when Clara's asleep, or something like that. I'm thinkin' on it. One thing I started doing was making a list of things I wanted to look up on the Internet when I had "my time," so I would make more efficient use of the 10 minutes. It's pretty incredible how much you can get done in that amount of time! I think I'll do this anyway because there are so many times that I get on the computer during Clara's quiet time and think, "Ooh, I needed to find out about such-and-such" but can't remember what it was until later when I have to get on again when I should be playing with my child.

All in all, I'm glad I did it. Clara was quite the trooper, although on more than one occasion she said, "The TV's broken? and the DVD player's broken? and the CD player's broken?" or things to that effect. Poor kid!

Here are a few highlights of what we did instead:

As part of Teach Me Mommy, one day we--Clara--painted using celery. Messy but fun.

She also enjoyed making a picture with different grains and beans.

Clara played more on the piano than I've ever seen her before. It was so completely rewarding to watch her playing and hear her singing. I think she missed the music as much or more than I did.

In one of my ten-minute computer sessions, I learned that you can freeze tomatoes. I was thrilled.

Cracking peanuts. I got this idea from one of my sensory processing books and it is great for so many things: fine motor skills, a yummy snack, and it's fun and rewarding. No wonder you never see fat squirrels--they spend too much time and energy just cracking their nuts open.

Techno-free week

The world is too much with us; late and soon;
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

(William Wordsworth)

This sonnet by Wordsworth is one of my favorites because it perfectly expresses how I feel at times. I often feel an inner struggle between my focus on worldly things and my desire to "get away from it all" and be free from the hassles that the world brings.

So, for a little break and a challenge during a somewhat boring month, this next week (starting Sunday) I am going to go technology-free. Kinda. For me, this means the following:

• no videos for Clara or me (we don't have a t.v. connection, so that's not a biggie)
  
• no television at the gym (ouch!!)
  
• only 10 minutes of computer time a day (y'know, bills, emergency emails, etc.--I'm gonna have to use a timer for this one so I don't cheat . . .)
  
• no radio
• no CDs

Yes, I'll be using my cell phone and land line. I can only go so far.

I guess it's all relative, but I think it's going to be just as hard as this experiment was in some ways. I confess I really like feeling connected (i.e. via the Internet) and having a window to the outside world. I know there are many who go for days without checking their email and Google Reader. That ain't me.

You might be wondering about the music--well, why the heck do I have a piano if I don't find the time to play it every day? In the car, Clara almost always wants a CD on and doesn't often like it when I say, "How about we sing some songs!" But now, I can say that the CD player/radio/TV isn't working this week, so we can sing if we want to make music.

I'll let you know how it goes. See you in a week!

Clothing emotions

I'm not sure if this makes me materialistic or just plain weird, but I've found that different items of my child's clothing evoke different emotions in me.

Satisfaction: When a pair of jeans is worn and adored so much that two patches form in the knees. (Clara still wears these, despite 98 degree weather and being too big for them.)

Amusement: When your daughter comes home wearing these after playing in (yes, in) a pond with her grandfather and cousins.

Gratitude: For your mother who cleaned them while you were out.

Pride: When your daughter goes bowling for the first time and handles the experience better than expected. (An added bonus--she loved the shoes but of course didn't want to leave them).

Anger, Disappointment, Resignation: When you forget to remove the Sunday dress (also the dress she wore for family pictures)--after only two wearings!--and your child gets permanent dry-erase marker stains on it while a friend is momentarily babysitting her.

Annoyance, Sympathy: When the beloved "polka-dot shoes" from last year are much too small but your child begs you to help her put them on nearly every day.

Tomatoes: trial or triumph?

I used to pride myself on having a green thumb--I took care of my parents' vegetable garden for a few years as a kid and then Michael and I grew terrific corn and tomatoes out west. I also used to have grand plans to major in horticulture because I loved flowers and plants and even made flash cards a few years ago so I could learn the names of various plants.

Then I realized that actually, my parents were really in charge of the garden, and Michael did way more watering than I did out in Provo.

So, this whole "gardening thing" this summer has been somewhat stressful, scary, and exciting for me. (Don't tell me how pathetic that sounds.) Given my lack of experience, don't you think that my first year Mother Nature could give me a gentle beginning, instead of baptism by fire? Apparently not.


Problem number one: blossom end rot. This delightful condition (shown above) occurs when there is inconsistent watering (too much, too little, or too sporadically) or a calcium deficiency. You can still eat the tomato after cutting off the rotten bottom, but the perfect fruit ain't purty no mo'.

Solution: lime supplement and more consistent watering (we've learned that we need to water at least once a day, if not twice).

Problem number two: aphids. (not pictured)

Solution: Spray an organic bug killer, like Earth tone Insect Control.

Problem number three: slugs. (not pictured)

Solution: I finally had to dispense with the beer cups because although MANY slugs were drowned, my flowers were still being eaten. So I purchased Sluggo, a pet-friendly (my neighbors have roaming pets) pesticide that has worked quite efficaciously.


And now for the royal pain in the heiny problem number four: hornworm caterpillars.

Yeah, do you see that delightful five-inch long, perfectly camouflaged nightmare eating my tomatoes and their leaves? He had no sense of decency--boy, did he and his siblings have droppings. (No joke--they were everywhere and looked impossibly large for a caterpillar. But they were theirs.)

Here you see Michael using a knife to pry off the caterpillar as he clings desperately to his life and food supply. We found five large ones and, I don't know, two or three little ones. Hornworm caterpillars hatch from eggs laid by the sphinx moth, in case you were wondering. They also spurt green guts if you pierce them with a knife accidentally.

Solution: Drowning.

In the meantime, we'll enjoy the fruits of our labors for as long as we can. It might only be for another week, but we'll take what we can get.

A father's day limerick

There once was a great guy named Dad
His daughter's heart he always had.
He read her sweet tales
Listened to her long wails
His presence always made her quite glad.

A few years beyond her a boy
Grew up with more masculine toys.
But like the young miss
With her childhood bliss
He too a great dad did enjoy.

One day that small girl grew up tall.
The young man that she met did enthrall
Her so much
And his heart she did touch
That a marriage them soon did befall.

At length tidings blew from the horn
A sweet daughter was soon to be born.
When once her dear pere
Saw the eyes they both share
His face deepest joy did adorn.

And now though the young girl seems grown
In her heart she has always known
That a father's devotion
Transcends time and motion . . .

Daddy's love is never outgrown.


Happy Father's Day to my own father, my father-in-law, and my dear husband and father of our daughter. I love you.

Last vote...one more time, please?!

It's a good thing I'm not indecisive or anything. (NOTE: We decided we need to do a landscape version instead of a portrait due to current frame situations.)


(1)

(2)


(3)
This is the last time I'll bug you! Or not.

Seriously, thanks for your help!