The Best Thanksgiving Ever

My best cousin is coming for Thanksgiving (hi Steph!). We've been best cousins since that fateful day when she decided she wanted a pen pal and she picked me. One of the best things to ever happen.

We had a long conversation this morning about all the delicious things we are going to make. She wanted to talk to me weeks ago but I kept putting her off. Bad cousin? Probably. She'll keep loving me anyway. We're best cousins, after all.

We're going to have pies and cakes and turkey and five different vegetable dishes and a fruit platter that looks like a turkey and a vegetable platter with a bread cornucopia. We're big into this food thing.

It's going to be the best Thanksgiving ever. Not because of all the food (my food lists fill a page, front and back, in my planner), which is going to rock. Nope. It's the talking and laughing and loving that's gonna make this Thanksgiving a winner.

PS As of half a week ago, I'm back in Utah.

PPS I can't get it into my head that time still passes when I'm in New York.

PPPS Happy Holidays!

Three Things

Nol-Man

• When we go on walks together he uses one hand to hold mine and the other to find his belly button. He puts his little finger on it and doesn't let go.
• I've taught him several new words including dapper and mess. We're currently working on delicious. Yum is functional, but delicious is functional and fun.
• I've also taught him to do up his own buckles. He finds them fascinating and will play with them for twenty minutes at a time.

Livvy Loo

• Her favorite thing is to tell me how fast she is. After spending twenty minutes in the bathroom, singing to herself while she does her business, she'll run out with a big grin on her face. "Was I so fast!? My body just wants me to go fast in the potty!"
• I recently went on a shoe raid after she'd gone to bed. She insisted on wearing her favorite shoes which were a size too small. Five minutes into any car ride she'd start howling. "The shoes are pinching my toes!" This might qualify as a cruel to be kind moment.
• I am so so so glad skinny jeans are trending. I love to dress Livvy Loo in skinnies. Her long legs and tiny waist size make them uber adorable. I ignore the wealth of skirts and dresses bursting out of her closes so I can see her in her skinnies. Particularly since she practically refuses to wear the adorable jean vest hanging in her closet. As soon as I turn my back it's on the floor. I think she thinks it's a jacket. Either, it doesn't work in any outfit because it doesn't stay on.

Ella Belle

• The best times are when it's just me and her and there's nothing to distract us and she talks and talks and talks. She's not one people would consider a talker but she's got a lot to say 
• She prefers her tennis shoes to her cute boots or her lace overlay sneakers. Better for having adventures in. A girl after my own heart.
• I walk her to the bus most mornings and often pick her up, too. It's weird. People with kids walk kids to the bus stop. I am not a people with kids. Except I am?

The Middle Brother

• He's stressed out of his mind, poor guy, and being finished with the LSAT hasn't helped. But I have a secret weapon. Orange jello salad.
• Sometimes I linger in the hallway outside of Nol-Man's room when he's going down for the night. The Middle Brother hardly sings anymore. I get it. He's got a wife and kids and more on his plate than any one person can handle (read: why I am in New York). I miss hearing it.
• He wore a pair of awesome, pink sunglasses on his company's breast cancer awareness day. With his sunglasses and his pink, turned up collar, he looked model worthy. I don't think he'll ever wear the sunglasses again. Tragic.

His Cute Wife

• She has sold two of her paintings. She's done two more to replace them. I'm proud of her for creating.
• She's been putting Nol-Man down for his naps. At first he refused to go down for her. It had been months and months since the last time she'd done it and he just wanted her to hold him and love him and sing to him and play with him. Now he goes down without a fuss because he knows she'll be there, bright and happy and ready to play, when he wakes up.
• She thinks I make the best green smoothies ever. I think. She thinks everything is the best ever so it's hard to know what actually is. In any case, I'm going to keep making them, and she's going to keep eating them (or else) so it's best all around for her to think they are the best ever.

The Ma

• She's been baking bread like crazy. Nearly a batch every day. She hopes to put a stockpile in the freezer. Only problem is, we eat her bread like crazy because yum. I ask you, how did the world ever go from homemade to store bought? Blech.
• She constantly gets lost on these New York roads. They pretty much all look the same so it's not surprising. She makes me do all the driving which I don't mind a bit. I love a good drive on a windy road surrounded by trees in fall colors.
• Ma is an errand runner. She runs errands in Utah. She runs errands in New York. I suspect if she were living in the Alaskan tundra she'd be an errand runner there. I am not ashamed to admit that she wears me out.

Me

• It's important to me the girls are dressed cute for church and school. I take time each night to pick out their outfits for the next day. Ella Belle is consistently one of the best dressed girls at the bus stop.
  I've wondered, will this be important to me when I'm a mom to my own kids, or is it just important because they aren't my kids?
  I always do my best work for other people. Maybe it's time to do some of my best work for me? Or is that selfish?
  I'm confused.
• I'm the best lunch packer ever. At least, I'm a much better lunch packer than I was when I first got here. Ma and I don't buy a lot of cookies and things. The Middle Brother's mother-in-law, who was here before us, buys a lot of cookies. I am ridiculously delighted when I pack a couple of cookies or an extra pack of fruit snacks in their lunches, knowing how happy they'll be. Funny. I do everything I can when they're at home to make sure they don't know there's cookies in the pantry or ice cream in the freezer or pretty much any sweet treat anywhere.
  I hope I always take time to pack a lunch for my kids. Who knew something so simple could be filled with so much love?
• The Middle brother lives in an apartment complex with a dog park. There is not a children's playground. There are a lot of families with children living here. It's a good family sort of place. Yet they have a dog park. And no playground.
  When did our world become a place where a place for the dog to run become more important than the children?
  I don't get it.

Things

I logged on and discovered the last time I posted was July 15. I was sure it had been longer than that. It felt like months ago the last time I posted. Years maybe.

It's been two months.

I didn't post anything in August. That's the first time in two and a half years I missed a month.

I didn't purposefully post something at least once a month for two and a half years. I got lucky.

My luck ended.

It seems like I've been everywhere in the past two months.

I did a little math because I like math. I've been in town for 40% of July and August and out of town for 60% of July and August.

I'm tired. I'm also an efficient packer.

I'm leaving again on Saturday. I'll be gone for just about four weeks. I expect you won't be hearing from me in that time.

The high is usually between 15 and 20 degrees cooler in New York than here at home. I'm contemplating taking three different pairs of boots, which feels excessive. Church boots, every day boots, get me to the gym and back boots. Thank goodness, I won't be needing snow boots.

I went to the 100th annual Meskwaki powwow. Ma did her first ever 5k. I walked it with her. We got Meskwaki swag. She thinks she might try running next year.

We went to church the Sunday we were in Iowa for the powwow. The people were very friendly. One lady asked me who I was and what I was doing there (passing through or moving in?). She asked me who my grandmother was because she apparently knew some of the Meskwaki people. "Oh, of course. I knew your grandmother!" Sure you did, lady. "She went to study at BYU, didn't she?" Huh, maybe you did know her. "She had a couple of sisters," Okay, but a lot of people had sisters. "She had the prettiest handwriting. So precise. Like a machine." A random lady in a random town in a random church used to know my grandmother. Weird.

Ma and I ran away together and saw two Tuacahn plays. The rest of the time we laid in bed and read books. It was glorious.

Ma recently drove to Oregon with Pa for a wedding. On the way home they stopped by an orchard. She brought home eight varieties of apples for me to try. Eight. That's love.

I'm obsessed with apples. It's unhealthy. Or very healthy, depending on your perspective.

Ma also brought home four varieties of pears. I love me some pears.

The day after I got home from New York, I helped throw a crazy birthday barbeque that kept getting bigger and harder to put together. I was grumpy.

This past week is the first time I've not been fighting grumpiness for a long time. It's also the first time I've been home with no extra visitors for more than four days.

I'm not naturally a grumpy person. Just when I'm around people. And since the world is full of people, I seem to be a naturally grumpy person.

If I were a hermit, I would not seem like a naturally grumpy person.

It's still too hot to go running after work so I've been rocking the treadmill runs. I haven't run much since spring. I was sure the treadmill would kill me but it didn't. I've never run so fast and strong on a treadmill before. I still get bored out of my mind, but at least it's not hard.

In the last month, half a dozen people at least have mentioned how short my hair is still. For the first time in a year, it finally has some length to it.

I did not sew my swimming suit. That project has been shelved until March.

I haven't done any other sewing either.

Really, I haven't done much of anything. Yet, I have been so busy. How is that possible?

I made time for chia seed pudding. It's been on my list for months. It was gross. I don't care what they say. The Aztecs can keep their chia seeds. I'm sticking to my real, fatty-milk based pudding.

The Little Sister thought she didn't like green smoothies. Then she had one of my green smoothies. I made about two dozen smoothie bags for her freezer. She's going to have a baby soon and can't get her life together enough to make herself some food. So. Big.

Her little one loves them. He's been rocking the green-smudged, sticky mouth lately. Babies will eat spinach when it tastes like strawberries. I've got proof.

When I try to follow a green smoothie formula (google it) they turn out gross. I stopped trying.

I read the entire Harry Potter series in about a month. It made me happy.

Clearly, I have not been following my reading plan.

I'm going to write a post about the books I read during the summer. Maybe in October.

I fly home on Friday.

For perhaps the first time I am beginning to understand the mystique around the word Friday. Just saying it is enough to make my heart flutter, my mind less cluttered, my feet lighter. Like a charm or a spell, it pulls my mind irresistibly toward the future.

Friday.

In just a few days I will be home again. In just a few days I will belong to myself again.

I've developed some unsavory habits.

Most nights I don't make it to bed until 10:30 or 11:00. Each night as we prepare for bed I tell Ma that tomorrow is the day that we will be in bed by nine. I say it again when we're up by 6:00, wakened by the screaming of morning children. And still, we don't make it to bed until 11:00.

I've begun eating like a desperate person. I don't taste my food. I don't savor my food. I grab what is easy and stuff it in my mouth, bite after bite after bite, waiting for a small head to walk around the corner of the table. What will it demand I do for it? Eat. Eat quickly. Eat now. It is your only hope. I've developed a black raspberry and marshmallow shake habit. An almost every day sort of habit. I assume my body is attempting to make up for the missed calories. Pump them in! The straw, use the straw, it's faster!

(I do not regret the nearly every day shake habit. Only my desperate way of eating everything including my nearly every day shake.)

I brought two computers with me:

• a work computer - for working
• a personal computer - for writing

My work computer is out almost all the days. Work, work, work. My personal computer is out none of the days. No writing. None at all.

Soon, I will be able to sleep like me again. I will be able to eat like me again. I will be able to write like me again.

One thing I know with a certainty born of a three-child experience: I will do everything I can to ensure I am never a working mom. There is not enough patience, not enough kindness, not enough laughter, not enough time for exploring and learning and loving, not enough adventure.



Friday.

A New York Adventure

I've been in upstate New York for two and a half weeks.

I'm going to be here one week more.

I've learned a lot while being here.

Things like, I can drive a minivan like a champ. Or rather, like a soccer mom.

And I can get a tantrum throwing child out of the closet with laughs and smiles.

And I can make a pouty child throw a full-blown, crying in the bathroom for 20 minutes tantrum with barely a word.

And I still try to hard to make things happen for other people when they tell me they are important even though they don't act like they are important which means they probably aren't that important.

But mostly what I've learned is that life is crazy and unexpected in both good ways and bad and if I try too hard to hold onto it I'll miss all the good parts and most of the bad and I'll give myself a blazing headache.

Betrayed by the Library

The other day I was wandering about the library.

My library employs several shelves for the express purpose of displaying books. These shelves are meant to tantalize you and also to show the incredibly large selection of reading material the library offers on every subject.

I was browsing one of these shelves, wishing I had the time to read the book on cooking with onions, the history of women's footwear, and the book about hiking with small children (do I have small children? no, I do not). I stood in front of that shelf dreaming of having the time to read those books but remembering the two and a half shelves of books in my room waiting to be read and my goodreads to-read list stuffed full and the list I keep in my head of books I'd like to pick up when I've got a little extra time.

I realized that I will never be able to read all the books I want to. And then I felt terribly betrayed.

I've always known there would never be enough time for all the things I wish there were time for. I will never be a master carpenter, a master cook, a master seamstress, a master musician, and a master of everything else that I've taken a fancy to over the years. I don't have the time to even have a small sort of skill in all these areas.

In the same way I knew I'd never be able to read all the books I'd like to.

Knowing is not the same as believing.

Standing in front of that shelf I finally understood what I thought I already knew. My library promises me everything but everything is not a true possibility.

Simply put, I cannot do it. For the first time in my life ever, I knew beyond a doubt that even if I poured all my energies and attention into a single purpose, I could not possibly succeed.

The betrayal I felt was not bitter. Just very sad.

Summer Bucket List

I've been thinking more about the idea of a summer bucket list. I'm still not ready to commit to one. Particularly since I will spend a large portion of this summer in upstate New York.

But, if I were to have a summer bucket list, it would look something like list:

• pack the perfect picnic
• become a whiz at whipping up delicious, homemade popsicles
• never, ever let the freezer be empty of homemade, delicious popsicles
• make my own swimsuit
• make two more
• spend as much time as possible up the canyon
• read outside in the sunshine every day
• hang out at the pool with a niece or nephew at least once a week
• put a strip of summer fun color in my hair
• make a funfetti layer cake from scratch with lots of sprinkles on top
• eat the cake
• grill watermelon

It's the first week of June. That means I have three months to revel in summer fun. While I'm not committed to the summer bucket list above, I am committed to summer fun. This is happening.