Halloween and Manual Transmissions

I don't know much about engines but when I turned 16, my first car was a Volkswagon Jetta with a manual transmission. It took me a few weeks, but soon I was flying around in that car just fine, and didn't even have to avoid the roads with hills. When that car caught on fire and died it's dramatic death, it was replaced with an old Acura hatchback, also a manual.  I drove it across the country and by the time it got to Utah by way of Texas, it was that car you never wanted to drive behind because it couldn't pass emissions. In fact, because of the horrendous amount of smoke pouring out of the tailpipe, I couldn't get a parking permit for college so I ended up parking in a hotel across the street from campus and praying everyday that I wouldn't return to a ticket on my windshield.  

I started dating Dan who drove a cute little extended cab Nissan, manual transmission, truck.  We got married and sold the Acura.  We replaced it with a new Corolla with, you guessed it, a standard transmission.  So, in my 16 years of driving, 11 of those have been in a car or truck, clutching and gassing and shifting. 

In that time, it became second nature to me.  There was no thinking involved, my feet and hands just knew what to do and when to do it.   

The security of Dan's job has been a blinking question mark in our minds for the past few months.  Rumors were flying that his office would be closed.  Being in HR has its perks and those rumors were confirmed to Dan and one other employee a few weeks ago and thus began the hours upon hours of work required to logistically perform such a feat along with the heavy burden of knowing the sad future of so many unsuspecting employees.  Our trip to NY was cancelled and the time was instead spent at the office 7 days a week.  I  was mummed to secrecy and even my broad and general blog post here last week was censured immediately.  I don't blame Dan, though.  But I needed a release and couldn't find it, because there was no where to go and no one to tell.  

Today Dan will meeting with laid off employees.  And in a few weeks we will learn whether he will join them.  As HR has it's perks it also has it's negatives.  You can't lay off the HR people until they've laid off everyone else for you first.  

I wonder what would happen if I sat behind the wheel of a standard today. I'm thinking it would come right back to me. 

Mostly, because I have been riding around with that old familiar hum in my chest.   My RPM's are rolling at that maximum point, the hum is loud, the engine is begging for a shift.  And if I want the roar to die down, I need to shift up. I'm not miserable. I'm not about to redline, but I either need to slow down or shift gears. Or take a nice little break in neutral.

Which would translate, I guess, to eliminating my stress (impossible) or increasing my ability to deal (probably impossible too).  Since neither of those are likely to happen, I have kept myself busy, so I don't have to think about it.

Now, I'm not the kind of person who likes to be busy.  I like to be productive but I don't get my kicks in life from accomplishing a million things. I'd rather accomplish a few things that I really enjoy doing. But I think in a subconscious effort to keep my mind from having any down time, I put the pedal to the metal. Starting with the headboard post a few weeks ago, and never letting up.  But at least I have been doing things I enjoy.  Like making costumes.  

Seriously, if I could get as excited about cooking and cleaning as I do about making Halloween costumes, this would be a different house.

   I started with Popeye and Olive Oyl.  My high school basketball coach used to say that I looked like Olive Oyl.  I was obviously much skinnier then. But we needed costumes for a party,  this popped into my head.

 My method for costumes is to gather what I can that works just how it is, then gather what I need to make the rest, usually from a thrift store or our closets. 

Popeye's shirt was a black shirt and a red shirt from the goodwill.  I cut out the collar of the black one, made the sailor collar from the red, and then attached them together.  I cut off the sleeves and added the blue trim and glued on the felt buttons.  The pants were a couple of dollars, also from the goodwill.  I glued yellow felt to a canvas belt he never wore.

And even without his muscles, Popeye is a great bedtime toothbrusher. 

I wrapped Dan's arms with quilt batting, cut the legs and toes out of some pantyhose, and slipped them over his arms. I drew on the anchor with permanent marker.

I ordered the hat and pipe from Amazon.

Olive Oyl started with a red turtle neck and a white ruffly women's blouse from the thrift store. I cut off the neck of the red turtle neck, cut off the ruffles from the white shirt and added them to the neck and wrists of the red.  Sounds more confusing than it was.

I took a black skirt from my closet and added yellow ribbon with removable Fashion Tape to the bottom, because I didn't want to ruin the skirt.

And when it was all said and done, I think we looked pretty great for the Halloween party we attended. 

When the dust settled around the kid's Halloween costume discussions and it appeared they were all in agreement to do Star Wars, I couldn't believe it.  You may remember last year that Luke refused to join Darth Vader and Princess Leia and was Mario instead.  

This year, they wanted to do Star Wars again.  Luke wanted to be Luke Skywalker. Max was set on Obi Wan Kenobi.  Ava wanted to join in, but feeling like she'd "used up" Leia from last year, she decided her only other option was Queen Amidala. And at that announcement, I said an internal, "oh, crap" because how do you make a Queen Amidala costume?  

 I was really excited that they'd all settled on the same theme though, so I didn't want to dissuade her.  As the mother of quite a little flock of children now, themed family costumes are really exciting to me. And I knew just the perfect Yoda.

But seriously, what else was I going to do?  Sit and think and wonder?  No, I was going to gather jedi clothes, sew jedi robes, find an Amidala dress and make a headpiece.  

The boy's were simple.  I lucked out finding everything I needed for their outfits on my very first Goodwill trip.  Then sewing their robes was as easy as it gets.

I thought about Ava's for a while.  I found a silky Renaissance dress, but for a while that's all I had. 

 Then I came across this green velvet house coat.  I chopped off the sleeves and added the trim from the excess hem of the dress to the collar.  

I knew I could not go for accuracy,  I was not about to reproduce Queen Amidala's signature red outfit.  I was going more for...Queen Amidala on a Tuesday.  

The head piece is a 3/4 of a styrofoam wreath form, attached to Ava's old head band, wrapped in batting, and carefully wrapped and hot glued with brown yarn.  I approximated the gold side pieces from pictures and drew them on cardboard and cut them out.  I taped up the edges, sprayed them gold, and covered them in glitter.  I hot glued them to the wreath.  I sewed a tube of drapey purple fabric and attached one side of one end to the back of the headpiece to finish it off.

I found a wrinkly women's linen jacket perfect for downsizing for a worn out Yoda robe.  

I realized my limitations and had ordered a crocheted Yoda hat off of Etsy near the beginning of October.

Unfortunately the hat I received looked more like an elf and less like a Yoda.  So on Halloween morning, after realizing I'd finished everything else, I sewed up a quick Yoda hat for Finn and loved it. 

A little face paint later, we had our completed Star Wars Quartet and four really happy kids.  

We went through the neighborhood while Mom and Dad sat on our lawn and passed out candy.  

Obi Wan ran out of strength on the second street and had to go home, but the rest of us went longer and further than we ever had before.

And they brought home the candy to prove it.  Now I'm getting further and further from my Olive Oyl ideal as I eat away my stress with all of their candy.

I have no idea what they'll want to be next Halloween but if they want their costumes to be this involved they better start hoping their mother has something she's trying not to think about.

Max is 4 Today!

The anesthesiologist walked into my labor and delivery room to inform me neither she, nor any anesthesiologist in the hospital would give me an epidural. And while I had never, even for a second, ever, considered a natural childbirth, I really never would have considered it with a chemically induced labor. But the pitocin was in the IV, my water was broken, the contractions had started and I was staring down the barrel of my worst nightmare. That's when Dan started. "Oh my gosh! You can't do this! You will never be able to do this! What are we going to do?! You'll never be able to do this!"

And what am I if not a challenge taker? Telling me I don't have the ability to do something is a sure way to get me to do it. If I feel like it, anyway.

But, for me, this was big. Dan seemed to be the voice of my thoughts. I quickly realized, however, that those thoughts would only make the situation worse. So, I did what I had to do and told him to, "Shut up."

I believe that took him by surprise. And from the moment he saw my determination, he changed his tune completely and let me get to work.

My friend, Melissa, hypnobirther extraordinare, came straight to the hospital and saved my psychological life.

I never felt pain like that before, and despite the unexpected circumstances, on this day, four years ago, Max made his entrance into my life, into our family, and it was a spiritual experience to match any other. I knew for certain that God's hands had been on us both that day. And I felt the excitement in the room from those both physically there those that were not.

Max is my little heart. He is a stubborn as they come. He's naughty. He makes us laugh everyday. He is never short of compliments and expressions of love. One of his most common phrases is, "I just love my family!" And I assure him, without hesitation, that we love him too.

Happy 4th Birthday, Max!

Luke's Six Year Pictures

Every June 28th, Luke has a birthday, and every June 28th and the weeks surrounding it, the temperature hovers around 196 degrees and I put off taking his birthday pictures. And then October rolls along, Max's birthday nears, and I remember those Luke pictures that still haven't been taken.

So, it's October and just like last year, Luke's pictures are now in the books.  Here is my SIX year old!

The eye color/sweater matching was a complete coincidence, a completely beautiful coincidence.

I know I am totally biased but my darling Luke is so gorgeous to me.

He is a gentle boy.

He is a smart boy.

He is a kind boy.

He is a beautiful boy.

He is usually the first in our family to wake each morning.  He comes right around to my side of the bed and we snuggle.  Those are some of the best moments of my day.

I just had his parent teacher conference where his teacher referred to him as "her conscience".  She says that just by looking at his eyes she can gauge how the class is going and how he is doing. If she gets too firm, she sees it in his eyes.  He keeps her on track, she says.  And he doesn't even have to say anything.

She said he is a blessing in her classroom and I assured her that he is a blessing at home as well.

 He is a quiet boy.

He is a loving boy.

He is a fun boy.

He is a thoughtful boy.

He is my boy.

Oh Blah Dee Oh Blah Da

Finn's bottom teeth are definitely in.  He holds his own bottle, he sits up and rolls over. All that's left is fetch, I think. We are working through his 3rd ear infection, but he is the best medicine taker I have, so that's nice.

Max loves going to preschool and would probably enjoy more than two days a week.  But with his fall birthday, he'll have plenty of preschool.  I can't believe we are on the cusp of his 4th birthday, though he's probably as tall as most 6 year olds.  He is a verbose fellow.  His "nick knack name" could really be Motor Mouth.  Sometimes it's whining but mostly its just talking, talking, and talking.  I feel bad, but sometimes I have to tell him to can it because I just can't take anymore.

He has the most interesting dreams and is able to recount them right down to the most minute detail.  Sometimes, they are cause for some major sleep disturbances but I can't blame him once he tells me what they were about.  Last night was when the clothes on the rack at the store came alive, took us home and put us in a pot of spaghetti, meatball style and were going to eat us.  No lie.

Imagination to spare, for sure.

We recently bought Luke a new lego set. He had done his others ones so many times, he practically had the directions memorized.  He was completing them in just minutes and he was getting bored.  So this creator set we'd been eyeing went on sale and we bought it.  But it was huge and while we were waiting on it to ship, Dan and I had second thoughts.  618 pieces is a lot of pieces.

It arrived though, and Luke set right to it.  Comparatively, it took forever. He had to set his pieces out on 2 pans and a plate.  But he did it. He's done them all now, a few times, but he says next time he doesn't want so many pieces, maybe only three or four hundred instead.

School is going well for him but the length of the day isn't his favorite.  From what I can tell he still has some issues with processing directions and I hope to broach the subject with his teacher at our upcoming conference.  I don't really know how to deal with his math at school.  He probably wouldn't qualify for their gifted program, based on his language skills but he does have this pocket of giftedness that I feel badly is not being fostered at all.   I guess it's another subject for our conference.

Soccer is going ok.  He still loves it despite the coach being majorly intense. Luke's skills seem to be on a roller coaster.  We saw huge improvement quickly and then he plateaued and even regressed. He plays at home in the backyard with a totally different passion than he does at practice or a game.  He is intimidated by the coach. But he wants to play everyday and I think that it could be a really great sport for him as he grows.  We're thinking about the spring season and joining a new team.

Luke tells me, "Heavenly Father and Jesus are my favorite and you're next, Mom." And I can't complain about that.

Ava is growing so much, so fast.  I truly cannot believe it.  Sometimes I look at her and I can see how her face has changed overnight, even catching glimpses of how she's going to look as an adult.

 We've entered the world of training bras and deodorant and I keep thinking, this can't be right.  But my nose tells me it's right.

Her legs have a near constant ache.  I remember those pains so well as my own legs grew and grew.  And between me and Dan it's a safe bet that her legs will be growing for a while.

She loves reading and drawing.  She has rightly earned the title, Doodler. In fact, she finds it nearly impossible to just watch TV, she must draw while she watches. When I pick up the family room after the kids are in bed, I collect literal stacks of pictures.  I love them all.  But I just can't keep them. So I settle for taking pictures.

School continues to be a struggle at least in some areas.  In others, she thrives and is happy.  Between this year's adoption of Ipads for all, I really I fight an internal battle.  I like ipads and I like our school and I like our teachers and I like technology.  But I do not like the overuse of technology. It's almost as if the school is trying to convince us how awesome ipads are and have made it their mission to use them in every possible setting, even where there is no need or benefit. I have no idea what happened to the American Pediatric Associations recommendation of two hours of screen time per day.  But we are racking up close to 5 even before they get home. I cringe as I see the PE teacher sending home requests for more apps.  I cringe when the art teacher explains that minecraft is appropriate for art class (in creative mode!)  I cringe as Ava has no one to play with during indoor recess because every single student in her class would rather be on their ipad. I cringe when the teacher has to explain, and remind, and threaten elementary students that they can't text their friends while she's teaching. I cringe as I hear that at a recent parent meeting demonstrating the great filtering system, where the parents were instructed to type in a questionable website, THE FILTER DID NOT WORK and all involved got a school board induced peep show.  I cringe when the first grader says he listens to Drake on his ipad on the bus and his mom doesn't even care.


Between all of that and having to reteach a lot of material to Ava in a way that she understands anyway, I am genuinely wondering why I am sending them to school.  At least once everyday, I think that I should home school my kids.  Like I am seriously about 10 feet away from being that crazy mother I never thought I would be.

I don't know what's happening to me. I am appalled by song lyrics and all these new-fangled notions. At my core I am a lover, not a fighter, but if an asteroid was going to hit the earth and kill somebody I wouldn't be sad if it was Katie Perry. And yes, I realize that this is me, basically giving you permission to buy me a 12 pack of Ensure on my next birthday. I like the chocolate best. But when your eight year old tells you she loves to imagine the stories while she listens to music and begins to ask you "what does that mean?" in regards to a song we just heard on the radio, and you find yourself unable to articulate it in an appropriate way, it is a red flag. Or when you watch and hear your child singing words to certain songs, it makes you really think twice about what's coming out of their mouth. I am old now.  That's all there is to it.


But skanky singers and song lyrics aside, my consideration for home school is reaching an all time high and I truly don't know which way to go.  All I know is that I keep coming back to it.  I'm waiting to get struck by lightning, because this is a huge deal to me.  So many pros and cons to be weighed.

Heavenly Father wants the best for my babies even more than I do.  I know He will help me know what to do.  But He might have put me on hold right now.  That's what it feels like anyway; no need for rash decisions.

In the meantime, we will take a trip to Houston for the BYU game next weekend, Dan and I will rendevous for a weekend in NYC for one last hurrah before my parents are missionaries instead of babysitters.  We're thinking about Thanksgiving in Chicago and Christmas in Utah.  Because as much as I would like to know exactly what the future holds, the days keep coming, the kids keep growing, and life goes on.