A tale of two brothers...

Something to ponder in the nature vs. nurture debate.

Another reason NOT to beat ourselves up too much over our kids...what they do, what they say, how they behave.

And even further evidence why we should just cut ourselves a little slack when our kids don't turn out exactly as we envisioned.

Two kids. Born from the exact same gene pool. Raised in much the same way by the exact same parents.

Yet two obviously different personalities.

And that's OK.

I admire specific qualities respective to each of them.

I love them both beyond compare.

So parents, let's give ourselves a break. Love our kids the way they come. Pray they'll turn out to be decent human beings--eventually they will--but don't worry if they don't fit the mold. There is no mold. (Well, there might be some hiding somewhere in what lies behind door #2.) Nor should there be.

American Idyll

Regarding back-to-school: A friend recently asked me, "Are you sad to see the idyllic days give way to school schedules?"

I thought about this for awhile.


Idyllic days.


I can't remember the last time I've indulged in an idyllic day. It certainly wasn't this summer.

Seriously.

And how sad is that?


So I decided I needed to put more idyll in my days.


Last night as the thunder crashed and the rain started to fall I took five minutes away from my putting-the-kids-to-bed-while-I'm-still-finishing-up-laundry-and-trying-to-work-on-a-long-neglected-quilt-project-routine and walked outside to breathe in deeply the damp earthy scent of rain-splashed cement and feel oft-longed-for raindrops on my face.

Five minutes of idyll in my day.


Today, for the first time all summer, I was lucky enough to get a lounge chair at Veterans so I dragged it over to the shade of an ancient tree and I actually lounged there with my hat down over my eyes and took a nap. Only half aware of the carefree sounds of splashing and laughter as the dwindling crowd celebrated one of the last hurrahs of summer.

Twenty minutes of idyll in my day.


I'm still pondering what idyllic moment I will happen upon tomorrow. I probably won't know until it arrives. But I do know I will be all the happier for having recognized it and seized upon it.


So, what do you do when you feel the need for idyll in your day?

...a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils...

Back to school already?


the older ones barely tolerated the traditional "first-day-of-school" photo shoot


my baby--already in 2nd grade--mugging it up


new shoes...


new clothes...


new backpacks...what's not to love?


I see trouble coming...


best friends


my youngest and his fiancee (engaged since kindergarten)


Q's first day of first grade (I think her mom was more nervous than she was)


Lorien and her crew

Cool Beans

News from the world of Chocolate:


...or (to quote Lyle)...
"Where's an Oompa Loompa when you need one?"

Apparently death by chocolate is overrated.

But if you prefer not to drown in it, you could, at the very least, decide to worship it.

And if find yourself incredulous over the above, just feast your eyes on this!

Now even Britney's trying to jump on the chocolate-coated bandwagon. (Because she is having withdrawals over her sudden--but far too fleeting--decrease of exposure in the tabloid news.)

Of course if you're really innovative, you can now Get More with your chocolate. You can even use it to phone a friend. Can you hear me now?

And finally, a word of warning. Be extremely cautious if you happen upon any abandoned dark chocolate. Especially near airports in the Netherlands. An apparent mecca for abandoned dark chocolate. (Shouldn't the abandonment of dark chocolate be a criminal offense?)


I've got a layover in Amsterdam in a few weeks. Shall I keep a lookout?


Chocolate quote of the day: "And who doesn't want a glass of wine and chunk of chocolate?"

Bite me!

she says aloud--not really caring who might hear--returning to her car after the cashier gleefully rings up her total:




$575.00




she writes, in color #660000, a.k.a blood red, symbol of the ink in which she signed her name on the credit card receipt.



That's how much it cost me today to register to send my two boys to their favorite public high school.




And that's without having ordered the yearbooks on the side. would you like some fry sauce with those?




(I might be able to afford them sometime next spring.)




But it could be worse.




If one of them would've been a cheerleader it would've cost me more than that just in cheerleading fees.

Searching for my own state of grace

Yesterday I found myself in what has in blogworld been deemed the seventh circle of hell. And rightly so.


Yet I went willingly.


On a Saturday afternoon (next only to Saturday night in popularity for seekers of the seventh circle).


Yes, I went to Wal-Mart.


Why? You may ask?


In search of cleaning supplies. I somehow thought that if I could arm myself with the latest and greatest in cleaning tools and products I would also somehow find myself allied with sufficient reserves to mount a coup against the state of chaos that is ruling at my house.


I roamed through the now randomly rearranged aisles of the Orem Wal-Mart--which is, quite literally, the worst-kept, worst-stocked and worst-staffed Wal-Mart in the intermountain west--comparing brand names, calculating cost per ounce, imagining the ease with which each purchase would attack the mess waiting to ambush me at home.


I was misguided.


I also have ADD of housework.


I became distracted by the slick new vinyl of a bright orange backpack. The affordable price tag of fall colors in T-shirts and cargo shorts. The very last pair of the perfect shoes for my soon-to-be second grader.


I flew home just in time to get ready for the rare dinner date with my husband. And then we hit Costco for a great deal on socks for almost the entire family and some dress pants for my third-grade-teacher husband (am I the only one who has to do back-to-school shopping for the husband along with the kids?). And then caught the last day of the backpacks-are-40% off sale at Shopko. We also picked up more shoes and shirts for son and for spouse. And of course, because we were in the neighborhood, we had to stop and have some of our favorite pudding.


Of course when I finally arrived home last night I realized I was simply much too tired for cleaning house.




So today I have decided this:


I am just not cut out for it. I am not the keep-the-house-in-order guy.


I never will be.


...even armed with sixty-seven dollars and fifty-eight cents worth of the latest and greatest in cleaning products and gadgets.




I hereby resolve to run up the dust cloth along the broom handle and surrender.


What is is what is.


I will find it in my heart to do enough to keep cockroaches (Kidding. Do we even have cockroaches in Utah?) and DCFS at bay and be comfortable allowing at least those who love me anyway through the front door. But I will get over having been the first person in the history of the universe to fail even my very own free online coach, cheerleader, and fairy-godmother for decluttering and organizing your home and life, quit trying to be something I'm not.


And just try to be happy in my own . . . state of grace.

Because I'd rather do anything else but the dishes right now...

None too happy about:

Macy's coming to Orem. Kinda ruins the charm. Not to mention, here in Utah we call our grocery chains Macey's. It's like would the Eiffel Tour be so special if they had one in every state?

I think Ben & Jerry's may have discontinued their cookie dough peace pops. I can't find them anywhere.

My husband and I still can't agree on who would get our kids if we both biffed it in a horrible plane crash. I'm trying to joke about it so you can't see my fingers shaking and my heart racing in mortal fear every time I think about the 21 hour flight to Finland.

My passport picture.

I missed the entire storm of the decade yesterday because I was being a responsible woman. I DO NOT WANT TO BE A RESPONSIBLE WOMAN!


I'm lovin' this:

Finally, fresh corn on the cob is available on near every street corner. And tis the season for farmer's markets. Not to mention the neighbors' (hint, hint, Lorien) leftover zucchini. It doesn't get any better than that.

My co-worker's life-size Captain Jack Sparrow cardboard cutout. Of course I'm intensely jealous, too. INTENSELY! I really would love to take him home with me...(Captain Jack, not my co-worker)

The great new tote I picked up at Bath and Body Works. Some people do shoes, but I have a thing for a great bag.

Driving around at night with the windows down and the music up way too loud for my age.

Black River Brethren (Because I'm a little bit twisted and their cellist rocks.)


True confessions:

I spent way too much money today.

I almost covet Angi Tison's laundry room with the shiny red beadboard cupboards and the lovely front-loading appliances. I half believe that with a laundry room that nice the laundry just does itself.

I read Doonsbury. And sometimes it makes me laugh.

I'd rather be quilting.

I heart Captain Jack Sparrow.