Scooby Doo and the Mystery of the Creamsicles

Ok folks, it officially reached 95 degrees in San Diego today. And, lest you think I am a big baby all you Arizonians, that 95 degrees comes with over 60% humidity. In a word, gross. Seriously, if you can't live and San Diego and get some mildness in the weather, where can you live? The fans about the house don't cut it and they weren't cutting it yesterday when Jeff took the work car on a claim and left us with the no air conditioner car. I suppose I could have walked across the street to the library but I knew going outside would mean certain melting. So in we stayed.

After I had my good cry in the morning, I was over it. I don't think I would have agreed to this air conditionerless rental had I known this heat wave was coming. Oh well. It's not so bad if you try not to move. Later in the afternoon the kids were in a cold bath and I was contemplating the popsicle thieving when my good friend Kristen brought her kids Kedrick and Brock over. I said I'd watch them while she and her husband Kevin went to the movies. I noticed she brought two boxes of ice cream bars, one of which contained orange creamsicles. Her kids are the same age as my kids and all four kids have been obsessed with Scooby Doo movies of late. So I got my kids out of the tub and we turned on "Scooby Doo and the Loch Ness Monster." The boys were totally enthralled but Nicky had noticed what I'd noticed, creamsicles in the freezer, and she wouldn't stop asking for one. I hadn't had one of those in years and they sounded so much better than the pomegranate juice popsicles. I asked Nicky if she wanted to take a secret girls only trip to the freezer and she said yes. There were four orange creamsicles and we piggily took the number down to two.

Later the boys finished watching Scooby Doo, we had dinner, and Kevin and Kristen returned from the movie. The boys hadn't had their bars so I got them out. A fight over the two last chocolate ice cream bars ensued. Nicky and Brock each got one leaving Kedrick empty handed. He was crying really hard. Andy got an orange creamsicle and I offered the last one to Kedrick. He didn't want it and cried louder. Somehow the subject got on how many orange creamsicles were left. Kevin kept wondering aloud and asking why there had been six ice creams and now there were somehow only four. Kristen probably realized I had snagged one or two and tried to get him to stop asking but he wouldn't and seemed so confused. He probably didn't think about the fifth mouth in the house. As Nicky says these days, "he should have looked for clues." I should think the pregnant sweaty lady standing silently in the kitchen would be the first clue. I was so embarrassed, especially with Kedrick's crying in the background and Nicky wolfing down her second bar. I didn't say anything. How embarrassing to steal creamsicles from kids. I'm going to have to buy them a new box and admit to everything.

This insanity is all San Diego heat wave-induced. I don't even like that crap. Tomorrow we spend after church time at the beach under an umbrella. For sure it's sabbath day breaking but what the hell! If I go to Hell, I'm going to bet it won't be hotter! I'm going to dig a big hole in the sand, park my enormous belly in it, and wait out the insanity of another dreadful afternoon.

Two Left

I can't stop thinking about the two popsicles left in the freezer. There are two of them and three of us. Should I put the kids in the tub and steal away to the kitchen and eat both? This is what happens when the thermostat reaches 88 degrees indoors. I'm 50% ankles and water retention today and in a delirium. I don't even like popsicles. Air conditioners should be mandatory.

Miss Universe with Kashi on Top

Jeff left the house to make a phone call and came back later to find my roundness situated on the couch watching the Miss Universe pageant. There is something strangely relaxing about watching a bevy of starving starlets strut about the runway in tiny bikinis all whilst enjoying a yogurt with Kashi cereal on top, my body cushioned up in the coziness of the couch. There was an imaginary taunting taking place through the television. The Miss whoever tempestuously turned a corner and faced me through the screen showing me an ideal body, probably maintained by a celery diet and a doctor's scalpel. She did look lovely. All of them looked lovely and with some slight variation, they look surprisingly the same. There's the bony legs, the backs and stomachs that look as close together as the front and back of a paper sheet, the preternaturally voluptuous breasts, and wide lipsticked and glossed smiles. "We are what women should look like," they said with their confident eyes. The roving eyes of Donald Trump's perverted gaze seemed to whisper the same.

Still, I felt pretty good sitting in my living room fully clothed and eating something. I knew I'd go to bed secure in the knowing that a billion people hadn't seen and judged me in my underwear. If they'd look, I could taunt those beautiful women right back.

Seriously though, these pageants seem ridiculous. Didn't they used to at least have a talent competition? I miss a tap dance, a harp medley, or a shaky rendition of Whitney Houston's, "One Moment in Time." Now it seems all about the body and the strutting about in bikinis and costly diaphanous evening gowns all to the slutty music of Heidi Montag, Flo Rida, and the drugged looking Kelly Rowland. In attempt to disguise Donald Trump's true voyeuristic designs, the pageant's program gives the top five girls 30 seconds each at competition's end to prove their intelligence with a thoughtful answer to a judge's question.

18-year-old Stefania Fernandez from Venezuala, the eventual winner, was asked if she believed women had as many opportunities as men. She said she believes, "we have reached the level that men are at." When asked later how she thought beauty contests promoted equality between men and women, Fernandez said they provided exposure. "We have quite a following worldwide," she said. "We are models to follow."

Really? I don't see an equal competition with men in Speedos coming to prime time any time soon.

After Jeff and I finished watching the show (yes I dared watch a beauty pageant with my husband), I decided I would be disappointed if Nicky later took an interest to beauty pageants. Nothing that is truly beautiful about the girls is being shown. What is there to aspire to but looking better than someone else? And therein lies my biggest beef with the competition in general. In order for one girl to win, the rest have to lose and confusingly, they all looked equally as gorgeous to me. What a strange phenomenon is the modern beauty pageant!

End of Summer Happenings

As our summer closes this week around here, I'm grateful for a few things:

• The paperwork is getting done quickly and we have less than three weeks before we move into our beautiful home.
• I still miss our condo but I've tried to make this in between time fun at the lattice condo. There's been much of going to the pool, YMCA, and library. Nicky even had special time with me at the library this week, learned about the Loch Ness Monster (Nessie), and picked out her own books. I doubt we'll ever live in such close proximity to the library again and we've really enjoyed it.
• Even though Sears stood me up for the kids' portraits (like there was not even an employee there for an hour), the Picture People were happy to accommodate me at six times what I planned to spend. I happily paid it so that I wouldn't have to curl Nicky's hair again. I still stressed over eating lunch in picture clothes. Andy got cream cheese all over his shirt. Luckily you can't tell!
• I was happy to learn that my kids are brats and really have no trauma over moving. Ha, ha you would never know from those adorable cheeks and smiles but it is true. For the last three weeks I've had to lay by them to get them to bed and I always end up falling asleep myself. There's been no down time. I thought it was just the transition and they would adjust. I did a little experiment last night. I bought them each a new toy and told them if they went to sleep without a peep, they could have them in the morning. And there was...not a peep! BRATS! I'm on to them now. No more special treatment.
• I'm happy Andy wasn't crushed by furniture. The crashing sound coming down my friends' townhome steps from the upstairs was just her baby's train wooden toy box. Andy thought it could ride down the stairs like tracks. Unfortunately it broke to pieces but nobody was hurt. It always feels bad when your kid breaks someone else's expensive stuff. Oh well, it's just the time of year to shell out money anyway for us.
• Lastly, I found out at my OB appointment that baby is still doing well with plenty of fluid. Last pregnancy I think I was about to be on bedrest. An uneventful pregnancy is such a nice gift. I am thankful every day that I can make my own peanut butter sandwiches as well as take care of my family. I'm getting large too as the kids point out. I don't even care. Andy was riding little trains up and down my stomach and calling it a big hill. Nicky tells me I'm the biggest one in the family and Andy is the littlest. I try not to be offended about that one. It's true.

0.5 mg Clonazepam

After we left Dad's, our next destination was Grandma Dee's rest home. You can see why I save these visit gems for the last day I'm in Utah. Andy fell asleep in his car seat and Nicky was very emphatic about seeing Grandma Dee. I reminded her that Grandma was very sick and not to expect talking or interaction. I secretly hoped we wouldn't be scaring her for life by taking her in.

The nurse at the front desk explained that my mom's pacing had gotten bad and she was trying to tear things off the walls. They decided she was a danger to herself and others and she is now given a daily dose of Klonipen (Clonazepam 0.5 mg). It's a sedative. The nurse said that my mom gets weekly doctor checkups and her lab results are sterling. She exclaimed that, "Other than her brain, she's healthier than I am."

Jeff, Nicky, and I (along with sleeping Andy in his stroller) walked the halls looking in bedrooms for the sight of Mom's dark brown hair and empty eyes. We found her sitting on a chair next to an old lady in bed in the last room. She had her hand over her bent head.

Jeff called her name but she didn't move. I could see her eyes were open under her hand. I told her I came to give her hug and I followed through. She's so tiny but she didn't smell bad or anything and it felt nice to give her hug. I told her how much I loved her and missed her and then pulled back to look at her again. She didn't lift her hand but I noticed one small tear rolling down from beneath the hand and down her cheek. We told her goodbye but she didn't seem to notice.

While I was giving Mom the hug, Nicky was very anxious and couldn't decide whether to stay in the room or join Andy in the hall. When we got to the car she said that, "Grandma Dee was like a different person because her hair was brown instead of blond." I got what she meant.

Yesterday for family night, I pulled out a picture of Jesus and Mary in front of the tomb. I told her about the resurrection and how much that event means to me now that we are separated from Grandma Dee. I told her that I know that one day my mom will say my name again just as Jesus called to Mary. It's interesting how important the resurrection becomes to me now that I am separated forever from my mother. A man in our ward spoke in church yesterday about how his dad just died of cancer. He quoted one of the general authorities as saying that our separations must be painful here in life so that they can be that much sweeter in the next. I hope it will be so very much.

A Visit with Dad

Since I forgot my glasses, I squinted as we drove up Dad’s street. I was looking carefully at the mailboxes in the mobile home park for the label, “The Peck’s.” It was the first thing I was looking for so it was the first thing I spotted and we pulled up and parked. I wasn’t expecting but wasn’t surprised either by the next thing I saw, a Prudential “For Sale” sign neatly posted next to the front of the house.

Dad's wives and homes are in a constant flux. Change and overspending are normal for Dad. Even so, an old pang formed in my stomach and I felt the old panic rising with my unanswered questions. “Where will Dad go? Why is he selling? He’s been in this home less than a year. Is something wrong?”

Dad invited us in with smile. He was stirring up pancake batter with a wire whisk in a glass bowl when he explained everything,

“I have nothing to do with it! It’s one of those quick sales the bank is putting on. We bought the place for a hundred thousand and they’re selling it for sixty. We already had someone come and look yesterday. I hope it goes before the end of the month before the payment is due.”

While he’s talking I keep thinking about our new Sacramento house in escrow. It sure seems very large and lavish compared to Dad’s mobile home in short sale. I keep wondering where Dad will go. When Dad finds out we aren’t in the mood for pancakes, he sits on the floral love seat next to us and reveals his plans.

“My daughter just got married on Tuesday. She married a real estate man who’s in the dough. He owns lots of houses so he’ll fix us up with something.”

It doesn’t bother me when Dad refers to his Hispanic step daughter as his daughter even though I know it should. He’s only been married to Maria for two years. It’s just one of the many of Dad’s innocent yet hurtful quirks I’ve learned to adjust to through the years. When he gets married, he takes on his wife’s whole family and calls them his own. Maybe it makes him feel like it’s more legitimate that way.

Dad looks so fragile on the couch across from us. I hear him talking about his dialysis regimen and his hobby, panning for gold. As I look at him my feelings grow louder, drowning out his soft voice. I notice Dad’s frail frame, the sight of which the day before caused my older brother Todd to guess that he probably weighed, “a buck fifty.” The hard angular slants of his cheek bones and the outline of his bony eye sockets make it look as though his staring blue eyes are peering out of a corpse’s skull. I try not to but I think of Dad lying in a coffin.

I hear Dad chuckling at Nicky and Andy as they finish bringing out the last of his “daughters” stuffed animal collection out of back bedroom. The kids grow restless and Dad gives them some candy and invites them to see the back yard. The thunder storm has passed but it is still drizzly outside and the grass wets our sandaled feet as we follow Dad into the backyard. I wonder if the kids will remember spending time with their grandfather. I imagine that if they do, he will be a shadow in their memory; perhaps his will be the face they can’t quite recall. Or, maybe they will remember this very afternoon where the wet grass stuck to their ankles and they traipsed next to my father in his backyard as I did when I was their size. I don’t feel as sad when I think they'll remember. Dad tells us about the rose bushes he planted and shows us the storage shed he built. As sick as he is, I’m amazed at the perfect craftsmanship in the shelves and the joists. Dad’s humble food storage made up of wheat, oats, Hershey’s Cocoa, shaving cream, and deodorant sits on the shelves. I try not to look at Dad now because I’m pushing back tears. I’ve already looked in the future and I see someone else, not my Dad using his shed and enjoying his roses. I know he doesn’t care. Why should I?

Dad seems to grow tired, a side effect of dialysis, and hints with his body language that he’s ready for us to leave. As we are leaving he says goodbye and calls Nicky, “little
pow.” He makes her look him in the eyes so he can see her eye color and he’s satisfied that they’re blue. Maria appears in the doorway and he puts his arm across her shoulders. They stand there watching as we drive away. The rain starts up again and pounds against the window. I look in the rearview mirror and they are gone. I think it’s the last time I’ll see my dad in his mobile home with the pretty furniture my uncle bought for him and his wife. I wonder where he will be the next time I see him. I'll adjust to wherever it is. I always do.

A Doctor in the Family

We were bad with the camera this trip and this is the only picture we got. You can tell my hands were literally full, even in the picture. Since we moved, the kids have had a case of the clingies and won't let me loose. This was further aggravated by many late nights hanging with family in Utah.

Anyhow, on with the exciting news. My brother Chris graduated from BYU with a doctorate in counseling psychology. He finished this degree while working a full time job and caring for his wife and four kids. I also give Heather a lot of credit for taking care of her family mostly on her own. It was a huge sacrifice for both of them. Our family is so proud of my brother and we know he will do great in his new career. He is extremely smart and sensitive so individuals or couples will be lucky to have him as their counselor. I told him he's good looking too so that gives him the first impression edge over some of those googly-eyed, yellow-fingernailed shrinks.

I also told him that if I ever need a counselor I'm going straight to him because he already knows the family background. I could save costs on at least one session. (Totally joking here. Family members are not allowed into his counseling corner. It's against the ethics of the profession.)

Congrats, congrats again. We love you Kip (Chris) and Heather and are so excited for your new adventures. Thanks for including us in the festivities.

Big News

A few weeks ago I checked the MLS and saw a perfect house newly listed in a great area of Sacramento. The house seemed to have the rooms and layout we wanted as well as a nice sized backyard. I checked the satellite and noted the house sits on the end of a cul-de-sac and backs up to a greenbelt, meaning no backyard neighbors. Like I said it seemed perfect so we called our agent to make an offer right away. I should also note that the house is a foreclosure. This means the offer wouldn't enter the black hole that is a short shale and there is normal escrow closing in 30 days. I would say 80% to 90% of listings are short sales so a foreclosure is a definite bonus. Also, even though this house is a foreclosure it is in excellent condition and hasn't been robbed of its window coverings, fixtures, appliances, etc. There are many sweet upgrades like tile floors throughout the main floor and granite counter tops.

Our agent checked with the bank's agent and informed us that even though the house had only been on the market one day, it was already a multiple offer situation and we should plan to make an offer above the asking price (i.e., a bidding war was about to ensue). The Saturday before the offer was due Jeff and I debated betwixt each other how much the house was really worth. I tried to keep them in check, but my emotions got involved. Did I mention how perfect the house seemed? Jeff and I finally came to an agreement and gave our agent the final offer. I kept my fingers crossed but didn't dare to hope that we might win. Jeff continued to remind me that we hadn't even seen the place so there was no guarantee that it was as perfect as I was imagining.

To make a long story short, the bank ended up taking our offer. I don't know how we guessed the right amount because there were twenty one other offers. Our agent called and said the bank was taking our offer while we were in Montana so we took a detour on the way home and stopped at Jeff's parents. Jeff's mom watched the kids on Tuesday so we could actually look at the home before we signed the paperwork.

Miracles of all miracles it was even more perfect for us than we had imagined. We were even able to talk to some of the new neighbors who were very nice and normal. There were many children out playing about the cul-de-sac and it just sort of felt like home already. Our agent had a big smile on her face the whole time because I think she was surprised we wanted the house. She's been working with Jeff long enough to know he is a hard sale.

So things are in motion and I'm keeping my fingers crossed it all goes smoothly. My feelings are mixed. At once I am both crazy excited and ready to bawl my eyes out. I have a couple of really good friends here and that is the hardest part. I also feel a sort of mid-life crises coming on. Having an adult house seems rather adult. We're not going to be in the "starting out" phase anymore.

Also, it's a little weird thinking about owning a property. I think when you have experienced foreclosure as a kid, you are on the lookout for history to repeat itself. I guess what I'm saying is I feel like I can't get too excited or attached because I know how transitory property can be. I just have to remind myself that Jeff is not my dad and I am not my mom. Jeff is actually pretty amazing with finances. So I'll try not to imagine losing the home before we even know if it will close escrow.

The other problem is that the neighbors told us the previous owners' situation. They foreclosed because of divorce. Divorce sours my mood. I feel bad swooping in and making my nest in a place where someone else had such misfortune. I guess not bad enough to not continue on with the purchase, but... Do we need to perform a hex on the property before moving in?

Other than my weird worries and feelings, these are exciting times. I'm going to be greedy and keep most of the pictures for myself for now, at least until we get things looking how we want, but I'll share these two.

Highlights

This is not going to be a travel log although there were many travel hours last week. I'll post a few of the favorite pictures and write about favorite moments not shown in any pictures.

First off I lost the whole case of DVDs. I think it happened during one of the diaper changes at the park (see post below). I prayed they'd be found but they weren't. I don't think the Lord values our movies as much as we do. Nicky had a freak when I told her the only DVD left in the mini-DVD player was Thomas the Tank Engine's Toy Workshop. She howled and carried on that she didn't want to watch Thomas the whole four hours to Montana. She finally cheered after Daddy caved and spent 50 dollars on new movies at Walmart. What did the pioneers do without DVDs?

If you talk to Jeff, he'll swear on his life that the kids fight/annoy each other/cry ALL the time. But I think these pictures are evidences enough of his exaggerations.

I love this picture because it reminds me of the thorough enjoyment I took from keeping the hotel room air conditioned below freezing. I packed the kids' Christmas pajamas on purpose. The past few nights were the first nights in months I haven't been sweating. I also laugh thinking on the night at 3 in the a.m. when the kids took turns falling out of bed and hurting themselves. Nicky took a severe hit to the back from the night stand. I remedied their position by turning them horizontal and putting pillows at the foot of the bed so they had only one soft direction to fall.

More evidence of sibling love.

This picture makes me laugh. Having the kids has aged me and matured my inner worrier. I'm definitely the worried mom in the car and boat, holding on to the O.S. bar for dear life and telling Jeff to slow down. Jeff wanted to go much faster than I'd let him in this rented, motorized canoe. I suddenly felt the fragility of all our lives when thinking of the millions of gallons of freezing water beneath us.

I jokingly asked Jeff what he'd do without me. With a wry, wearied smile he simply said, "drive faster!" Poor man!

Andy is such a stickler for nap time. He actually fell asleep with this noose-like life jacket on in the middle of the lake. I don't complain. I just don't know any other kid that insists on his nap more than Andy. He even took his nap on time at Disneyland.

A view of some of Glacier National Park's Beauty.

A cute shot of Nicky.


So Jeff said not to bring swimsuits to Glacier because the water was too cold but the kids got right in.

How could they resist the beckoning of this clear and clean lake water?

I saw on the Today show that you shouldn't let kids over four run around nude. So I gave Nicky a modesty patch for the blog. She did have on underwear. There was no holding her back at the lake.

Andy asked to take his diaper off but there are limits. There are no nude lakes at Glacier. The kids LOVED throwing and collecting rocks at the lake. That was hands down their favorite activity at Glacier.

Overall we had a great trip. Glacier National Park is beautiful. Even though it was a lot of driving we all had a great time together. I'll post more pictures on facebook for the truly interested.