Memorial Day

Yesterday, we celebrated Memorial Day at my parents' place. And we celebrated the way that our family celebrates most things - we ate. And we sweat. Then we ate some more. Then we talked about eating. And we talked a bit about sweating. And decided that we should eat a little bit more.

Or maybe that was just me with the sweating part. But everyone seemed in agreement.



1 - As you know, it goes against all that I believe in to include a photo of me with glasses on. One might say that's vain,to which I'd say, "zip it, I'm in charge here." But I've included this one because Jared asked me to, and because my boobs look fairly perky in it. So I got that going for me.

2 - Getting ready to eat. We're always happy when we're getting ready to eat.

3 - The biggest hit by far was the sno cone machine that my brother brought.

4 - Ellie and her cousin Craig did some major exploring through the woods - it earned them some rusty poles, an old brown baseball, and a handful of ticks that hopped a ride home with us.

5 - We now require at least 6 picnic tables to seat our gaggle of cousins - and that's not including 3 of my siblings, who couldn't make it to the party

6 - Hello, Pinata, I'm Ellie. I like to hit things. A lot.

7 - The kids had a blast swimming and building sand castles. Jared says the Potomac River water is "dirty" - I like to call it "well seasoned."

8 - While all the kids swam, the moms huddled in the shade and tried not to sweat. The men-folk were playing basketball, re-living their younger years and trying to pretend that weren't old fogies. I think the wheezing and gasping gave them away, though.

9 - Meanwhile, Ellie battled with the Big Pink Tube. I'll give her credit, she is patient - time and time again, she chased that thing, tried to wrangle it, got inside it, fell out of it, and started all again. I think she might have a future as a bull rider.

10 - Finally, finally, she defeated the Big Pink Tube

11 - Success

12 - Well played, Ellie Sorenson, well played

Two Things

(1) This is why Jared's the 'fun parent' - because he turns the hose on the kids while watering the lawn (and I sit there thinking, well, there's one more load of laundry to do tonight!)

(2) I promise that I feed Jack, I really, really, do.

Free-Range Children

My children are like wild animals - they are meant to roam free, not meant to live in a cage. When trapped in an enclosed space (like my house), they fight, they growl, they scream, they bang against the walls of the enclosure, struggling to be free. But when allowed to wander in their natural habitat - the great outdoors - it is a thing of beauty.

They run, and jump, and climb

And climb some more

Until Dad comes home and complains that they're going to break his fence - killjoy, he doesn't understand the beauty of the wild animals

But that's ok, because they run, and jump, and climb some more. And bounce

And bounce some more - while Jack bounces, Ellie squashes spiders. When urged to stop squashing the spiders, she responds, "Don't worry, Mommy, I'll clean up the bodies with a paper towel." Behold the jungle predator.

Witness the beauty of the wild animals in their natural habitat. But whatever you do, don't let them into your house.

Baby Steps....

As you know, typically I come home from my monthly book club meeting to find the kids wide awake (and tearing the house up), with Jared nestled all snug in his bed, with visions of sugar plums dancing through his head. So last night, we had a small improvement:



At least they were all sleeping!

Perils of the Lost Jungle

We took the kids to a local miniature golf place this weekend. It had a jungle expedition theme, and had all sorts of animatronics and sounds and stuff to make it look like you were going through a creepy, lost jungle - and thus the "Perils of the Lost Jungle" name. Little did the other customers know, though, the perils they'd encounter being stuck behind the Sorensons.

Like us stopping every 3 seconds to take pictures of the kids in their cute jungle hats. Yes, we're those annoying people. We suggested that the folks behind us play ahead, but they politely said no. And regretted it for the next 17 holes, I'm sure.

Or Jack stopping every 6 feet to wonder at the creepiness around him - "wow, that's creepy and gross, but it's fun too!" A dirty joke just popped into my head, by the way, but this is a family blog so let's move on.

Or the perils of Jared actually believing that he was going to be able to teach the kids ANYTHING about golf with all the jungle madness around them

Or the perils of having to watch Lydia's Butt (it's so big it requires capitalization) at each and every turn

Or the perils of Ellie's technique. Depending on the occasion, her approach included dragging her ball along in a mopping-like fashion, scooping it up with her hat, or kicking it in with her foot. She took no prisoners, so you really had to watch your head for flying clubs.

And finally, there was the peril of Ellie's "Flashdance" impersonation. I just could NOT keep that stinkin' shirt on right.

So yes, beware, if you ever go to the Perils of the Lost Jungle mini-golf, you might just get stuck behind the Sorensons - and Lydia's Butt. (Cue creepy-but-fun music.)

Big Girl

Ellie had her first big-girl playdate the other day. When her friend Ella invited her over to her house for a playdate, I was surprised when I realized that Ellie has actually never been on a 'big-girl playdate' before. Of course she's been on playdates with me there, or even with Jack there, but this is the first time she's been on one all by herself. Needless to say, she was VERY excited. She spent the morning peppering me with questions - who will watch them, where will they play, what if she doesn't want to play something that Ella wants to play, and will they tell her where the bathroom is? We also practiced our home phone number, and then I had to spend about 10 minutes assuring her that there wouldn't be a 'tick problem.' You see, ticks are going crazy here in our county. Ellie has been taking a nature class every week at the local rec center, where they traipse through the woods looking for different creatures. And so, poor Ellie has come home a few times with ticks. Luckily we've found them right away, but she's now paranoid that there's a tick lurking around every corner. Every day after school, "Mom, do I have any ticks?" And at least 5 times a day, she'll point to a birthmark, freckle, or chocolate stain on her arm and ask if it's a tick. But after much discussion, she was ok with the tick risk at Ella's house, and she headed off to her very first big-girl playdate.

She has also started getting her hair cut at the big-girl's salon (the one I go to). Since Jared has started taking Jack to the barbershop, I figured it was time for Ellie to step up from the kiddie haircut place to the big-girl one. And yes, the big-girl salon does come with a big-girl price, but you should have seen how much Ellie enjoyed it. The stylist was super-sweet, and Ellie just chatted away with her like an old pro.



Me and Ellie after our big-girl haircuts. Speaking of big-girls, no, my neck is not the size of a professional wrestler's. It's the angle, people, it's the angle! I tell you, it takes a big woman to post such a nasty photo of herself. And nooooo, I don't mean a LITERALLY big woman, I mean a figuratively big woman. Now stop it. You're making me feel self-conscience.

Check It Out

One of the things that Ellie is obsessed with these days - in addition to the iPad, of course - is Wave At the Bus. If you haven't seen this blog, it's this guy somewhere in Utah. I guess one day he wanted to embarrass his teenage son as his school bus drove by the house - so he dressed up in a goofy costume and waved enthusiastically at the bus. Well, it caught on, and he's done it I think every school day this year (or close to it anyway - the latest blog entry is from Day 157). So I showed it to the kids, and every day, they love to check out what "That motorcycle guy is wearing." (You'll notice the guy has an artificial leg - that's not part of his costume, he actually lost a leg in a motorcycle accident.) Anyway, his costumes are really creative, and to me, still able to think back to my teenage years of total-embarrassment-by-parents, think it's hilarious to picture him goofily waving to his kid's bus every day. It's awesome - check it out: http://waveatthebus.blogspot.com/

Things I'll never do again

I was just watching this video clip of Anthony Bourdain, talking about the 'things he'll never do again.' In thinking upon the stupid things that I'll never do again, not surprisingly most of those things involved stupid things I've done for....wait for it...guys. No surprise to any of the ladies out there, I know. So here are just a few of the stupid-ass things that I'll never do again.

-Go in a sensory deprivation tank. Yes, I did that. "The guy" (we'll just refer to all these guys as 'the guy" even though they're different guys) was into Buddhist crap and holistic crap and new-agey crap. Not that that stuff is crap, just his shallow, not-even-mid-life-crisis interpretation of them was crap. Which is how I ended up in a new-agey salon inside a frickin' sensory deprivation tank. So they put me in this huge egg-looking thing (picture the egg that Mork from Ork came out of), with warm, salty water in it. They open up the egg, put the stupid Lydia in it, and close it, shutting me off to all light, sound, smell, and sanity. And left me floating in the thing for like, I don't know, a half-hour to an hour. I guess the concept is that, with all your senses gone, you go to a higher plane of thought or something, or experience some kind of out-of-body experience. I don't know. All I know was that I was BORED. And SOGGY. And SALTY. And thinking the whole time...I'm PAYING FOR THIS?!? Never again.

-Try gross foods to impress a guy. Like the Iranian food I tried when I dated that guy. We went to this very authentic Iranian restaurant, and so I decided to be cool and order 'authentic' stuff. To be fair, the guy warned me that I might want to go with the more Americanized kebabs. But no.......so I ordered the MOST FOUL FOODS that have even been created. And to top it all off, that gross cucumbery drink that made me feel like I was drinking a glass of really sour Ranch dressing. There was also the time I pretended to like oysters. I wanted to look sophisticated and cosmopolitan...and ended up gagging my way through a plateful of nasty snot balls.

-Pretend to like Rush. Yeah, this guy mentioned he liked Rush. Oh, but so do I, Lydia exclaimed, they're so awesome! Sure it got me the guy, but then I had to go home and figure out who the bleep Rush was. Oh. My. I hate Rush. And I had to listen to the screeching, screaming cacophony of noise for the rest of the summer.

-Pretend to like skateboarding, motorcycling, and Jazz improvisation. Let's just not go there. Never again.

-Go ice climbing. I used to rock climb for a while, and actually enjoyed ice climbing. But the problem with ice climbing is that you have to do it in ice-climbing conditions - cold and icy. I actually enjoyed ice climbing when I did it, but to GET THERE was a nightmare. First there was the hour-long hike up to the top of the icy mountain - freezing cold, in knee-high snow. Then when we finally got there, I had to pee so bad that I had to hike off into another part of the mountain to pee in the snow. So imagine, freezing cold weather, my ice pants shoved down, and yes, I lose balance and fall on my butt in the freezing cold snow. So then I had to spend the next two hours ice climbing with a frostbit butt.

-Accept a Non-Proposal. So none of the 'guy's above were Jared, thank goodness. Oh, but he doesn't get away scot-free, he's on the list: never accept a non-proposal. So Jared never actually proposed marriage to me. Basically we were lounging on the couch, watching TV, chatting, and he said, in the apathetic tone that one might say "why don't we get Thai for dinner," "why don't we just go ahead and get married." Nothing more. I don't even think I gave him an official response more than "huh?" but somehow, two weeks later, we eloped. I'm quite glad that we got married of course, and even the eloping part was fun, but COME ON, I think there's one basic rule about a marriage proposal: It should be in the form of a QUESTION. Or heck, even a bold, proud, manly statement, Rhett Butler-style, "damnit, I will marry you." But not just a lazy-ass, "yawn, yeah, let's just get married and can you pass me the popcorn." What I should have done was to slap him with a white glove. Back up. First, I should have bought some white gloves (elbow-length like the DAR ladies wear), put them on, slap him with it, then say 'ask me again when you're feeling gentlemanly."

So yeah, a lot of dumb things that I'll never do again. And my advice to Ellie? Don't do stupid-ass things for guys. And if you must, at least make sure they're REALLY hot.

Rinse and Repeat

Cry.
Whine.
Fight.
Cry.
Whine.
Fight.
Cry.Whine.Fight.
Cry, whine, fight.
Cry, whine, fight, cry, whine, fight, cry, whine, fight.

So how was your day?

Thank you, Amy

So yesterday I was having one of those days, you know those days, where you feel like you're the worst parent on the whole planet, and that it'll be an absolute miracle if you're not watching your kids on "America's Most Wanted" in 20 years. You see, the kids have a weekly gymnastics class, and it's one of those classes where the moms are able to watch the kids through a glass window. Which in theory is supposed to be a good thing. But which for me is the very worst kind of torture. Because yesterday, I got to watch - through a prison-like glass partition - as my kids acted like BRATS. And I got to have that internal battle the whole time, do I intercede and pull them out of class, do I let the teacher handle it, back and forth, back and forth. Torture, people.

So needless to say, I was not feeling very confident about my parenting skills. But then last night I read Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. For those who haven't read it, it's kind of a memoir about her experiences raising her two daughters in what she terms the "Chinese mother way" (vs. what she considers the more lax Western way). And all I can say is, after reading that, I felt just a wee bit better about myself. Because I'm sorry, she's PSYCHO. Because if you think it's worthwhile and appropriate to force your kids to practice the piano/violin/whatever for 6 hours a day, disallow any free-time activities such as playdates or kid-chosen activities, and berate and insult your children for getting a 'B' in school....just so they can "be the best" (which apparently means get into an Ivy League school and win medals), then, well....good luck to ya. But I'll take my bratty, fun, loving, non-Ivy-League-bound kids any day over that nonsense.

So, thank you, Amy Chua. You just made my day.

Glass Half Full

Jared's travel will be increasing over the summer, which obviously sucks. Whenever he travels we all miss him very much, and things just aren't as fun and lively around these here parts without him. (I'm sure it's not a stretch for you to believe that he, not me, is the 'fun one.') But when I start to get down about him being away, I like to fill my glass half-full and remind myself of the upside:

10. I don't have to try and follow his dizzying channel-surfing between the History Channel, the Military Channel, survival shows, and shows on how things are made. I'm sorry, call me close-minded, but I just don't care how vacuum cleaners are made. They're magic, people, that's all you need to know.
9. I can make recipes with gobs and gobs of onions, tomatoes, and peppers in them. And I don't have to watch a grown man pushing all of his chopped onions to the corner of his plate because they have cooties.
8. Peanut butter and chocolate, all day, every day. Can you believe there exists a person who doesn't like peanut butter and chocolate? And that he'd actually choose cohabitation with a woman who has peanut butter and chocolate running through her very veins?
7. One less set of dirty plates/dirty cups/dirty socks to pick up.
6. One less set of poop/fart/pee jokes to hear.
5. I don't have to sleep on my side to avoid snoring. On my back, spread eagle, diagonally across the bed. I rule the bed, people, I rule it.
4. Since he spends so much time working on the lawn anyway, I can just pretend that's where he is.
3. Even though I have to do all the cleaning and cooking and what-not, it's because he's not physically here - so I don't have to quietly steam and pout that I'm having to do all the cleaning and cooking and what-not even though he IS here.
2. Frequent flier miles, I love you.
1. One word - sweatpants

We love you, Baby Daddy, hurry home!

Another example of awesome parenting

Overheard during quiet, reverent, holy church services:
Ellie: "hey, I have an idea, let's play duck duck goose!"

Overhead in the locker room of the very public rec center, as I struggle to get Ellie's bathing suit on:
Ellie: "hey, you're giving me a wedgieeeeee! you're hurting my vaginaaaaaa!"

Overheard in the car on the way back from school:
Ellie: "you better give that back to me, or I'll spit on your head and poop in your face!"
Jack: "heeee heee, she said poop, that's funny!"
Ellie: "Poop poop poop poop poop!"

Yes, she is indeed a delicate little flower, isn't she.

P.S.

Jared did end up taking the kids camping, and I did end up getting the night to myself. Of course, he did come home 3 hours earlier than planned, resulting in me having to do my mall trip with the kids in tow. And isn't it fun having two kids in the dressing room with you? I'm not sure if the funnest part is them crawling under the stalls, or screaming out that Mom is naked and showing her private parts. Both are equally wonderful.

But anyway......it was still great that Jared and the kiddies could go camping, and the kids sure had a ball. Jared made sure they had all the camping basics - the roasted hot dogs, the s'mores, the hikes, the sleeping bags. So Jared earns major Dad Points for that one - which he promptly lost once Ellie screamed out "Look, my mom is naked!" in the Nordstrom dressing room.



Jared took the kids to a nearby place called Watermelon Park - it was perfect for little-kid camping, and they had a spot that was right on the river

Did you know that Jared is a master hot-dog-roaster?

Two satisfied customers

I have to admit, I'm quite jealous that I missed out on the s'mores

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to my mom, Super Joyce. I've often relished the role of mocker-of-my-mom and all her idiosyncrasies, but the older I get, the more I realize - I'm turning into my mom. Already, I find myself saying something and cringing and thinking, did I just say that? That was Mom talking!

Here, just some of the ways I'm turning into my mom:

10 - We both use antiquated colloquialisms that would make you assume that we're roughly 100 years old. When we reach across the dinner table we ask people to "excuse my boarding house reach," when we're lost, we're wandering "all over Robin Hood's barn," and we're often overheard betting people "a dollar to a donut." On the other hand, if you make us mad, a Marine might blush at our language. My language might be a bit "salty," and whether she will admit it or not, I got that from my dear old mom.

9 - OK, so my butt is more of a bubble butt while she's a bit hippier - but we both rock the booty, my friends, we ROCK IT. Meanwhile, don't let that cartoon above fool you - we may be bootilicious, but we're definitely not boobilicious.

8 - As a child, I HATED my mom's attitude toward sickness - and by attitude, I mean, her total disbelief in it - if we insisted we were too sick for school? "It's all in your head." Throwing up? Deadly fever? Broken limb? "It's all in your head." She proudly exclaims how her superior genetics (she's pilgrim stock, people) keeps her from getting sick. To the truly sick, it's quite annoying. But people, I find myself doing that now with my kids. When my kids come crying to me a with an injury - "are you bleeding? do you need to go to the hospital? No? OK, you're fine, go play."

7 - We both worship at the bottle of Oil of Olay. When I was younger, at night, I would look in horror as my mother would emerge from her nightly beauty routine with a greased-up, slathered-up face full of grease - her Oil of Olay. But now, people, every night I slather that stuff on like I'm greasing up a Butterball. And it's not vanity - now that I'm an oldie, my face just feels so stinkin' DRY. Who would think you'd still have pimples and dry skin at the same time - old age is cruel, my friends, it's cruel.

6 - We both think (secretly to ourselves, and sometimes right to your face) that EVERYONE out there is horribly inefficient. The cashier processing our groceries? We could do that faster. The kids helping make dinner? They're clearly adding to my prep time. And don't get me started on the friends who sit around for a 1/2 hour trying to choose a dinner location - we could have eaten by now, people! Get the lead out!

5 - Every morning, my mom would be up at 5am, preparing for the day and "laying her foundation" - making sure the house was clean and she was ready to go. At that time, when I was a teenager, I'd often be going to SLEEP at that time. But now? That alarm buzzes at 5am, people, and I'm off and running. Do I LIKE the morning? Absolutely not. But it goes back to #6 - can't start the day off with a messy house, or with the kids one step ahead of me. Gotta lay that foundation, my friends, lay that foundation.

4 - She is addicted to Diet Pepsi, Aqua Net hairspray, Neosporin, and Vitamin C - while I cling desperately to my Diet Dr. Pepper. Try to take my Diet Dr. Pepper and you might lose a hand.

3 - We both have an unhealthy obsession with the dead. Hers is more socially acceptable at least - she is a genealogist by trade, by church calling, and by mission-in-life. Most often, she has more interest in the dead than in the living. Me? I love the forensics - in fact, the other day I was so enthralled with watching a TV special on the Body Farm that I didn't even notice that my 4- and 5-year-old children were watching it with me. It wasn't until they showed them sawing off the foot of one of the cadavers and I heard Jack scream and run behind the couch that I finally came out of my fog and thought, hmmmm, appropriate for children? Perhaps not.

2 - At all times, my mother wears a black Bic pen behind her ear. At ALL times, people. I dare you - look at family weddings, and you'll see her, mother-of-the-bride dress on, black Bic pen behind the ear. Or when she went on the TV news as the church's genealogy rep? Black Bic pen behind the ear. OK, so I don't wear a black Bic pen - it won't stay on with glasses on (yes, in other words, I've tried), but I am obsessive about having my stuff with me. My purse must always have the essentials - phones, check, organizer, check, gum and mints for emergencies, check, paperback-to-read-while-in-the-very-inefficient-checkout-line, check. I haven't reached my mother's level yet (in her purse you'll also find measuring tape and a pocketknife), but I'm getting there.

1 - Crafts Be Gone - no, you won't find a craft-nook in either one of our houses. My mom actually CAN do crafts and can sew and what-not, she just hates it - put something in her mending pile when we were kids, and you were pretty much accepting that you would never see it again. Me? Hate it AND can't do it. If you put a gun to my head and said "sew this button," I would have to make my peace with God because that button just aint gonna happen on my watch. But now food, that's a different story. Food is GOOD. And really, about the biggest sin you could commit is to host a dinner and not have enough food for everyone. We like our food, people.

Now, that's not to say that I've turned COMPLETELY into my mom. After all-

-she's gracious, while I am often abrasive
-she's outgoing, while I'm aloof
-she plants flowers in toilets on her lawn, while I believe toilets belong inside
-she forgets the names of her children, while I have full use of my mental faculties

But hey, give me 30 years, and maybe Ellie will be saying these same things about me

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Yeah, that sounds like me

The other day we had a Mother's Day Tea at Ellie's preschool. All the moms came into the classroom, we had pink lemonade and snacks, and got to listen to the kids sing. It was all very sweet. Then there was a quiz to see if you could recognize yourself from your child's description of you - the teacher would read a description, and you'd raise your hand if you thought it was about you. When the teacher read that this particular mother was 20 years old, I sprang out of my seat and screamed "that's me! that's me!"

So here's a little bit about me, for those who don't know me well:

My hair is brown (so I guess those highlights aren't fooling anyone)
My eyes are orange (that's probably when they're filled with rage)
I'm 20 years old (and don't you forget it)
I like to exercise (which one might question when viewing my tremendous butt)
My favorite animal is an elephant (or maybe Ellie was just referring to my tremendous butt)
My favorite color is purple (that one is actually true - at least she got one right!)
My favorite thing to watch on TV is exercise shows (aren't I just the picture of health! of course, it only said that I "watch" the shows, not that I actually do any exercise)
My favorite food is mac-n-cheese (I think we refer to this as "projecting," since in fact Ellie's favorite food is mac-n-cheese)
And the thing Ellie likes to do for me is to give me hugs

Well, that part I'll go for.
And the 20 years old part.
I'll take that too.



The cutey-patootey redhead kept showing up the other kids with her loud singing and darling Shirley Temple hair, and she even signed along with the song. At one point Ellie gave her a look that made me wonder if I'd need to drag Ellie off her bloody corpse. Luckily, Ellie thought better of it.

Speaking of which.....

If your hubby took the kiddies from, say, 5pm one night to noon the next day, what would you do with your time? It's been so long that I've had such a long stretch of time to myself, I'm absolutely beside myself. I might just spend the whole time, paralyzed by uncertainty, curled in a ball in the corner.

Yeah, But....

Yesterday, I got an early Mother's Day present when Jared unexpectedly came home early from his work travel. Yay!

But...he was so tired from the jet lag that he fell asleep by 6:30pm. Not so yay.

Before he fell asleep, though, he offered to give me some time alone by taking the kids to the mall to buy me a Mother's Day gift. Yay!

But...in his haste to leave, he left his wallet at home, and was back home within an hour. (And of course asleep an hour after that.) Not so yay.

Of course, he did come home bearing a gift (purchased with what cash he happened to have in his pocket) - a magnifying mirror for my bathroom. Before you say boo, I actually had told him I wanted a magnifying mirror. So that's a good thing. Yay!

But...then I tried the mirror out. Did I mention it has 10x magnification? And oh, the horror. The inhumanity. The huge-ass pores and blemishes and unsightly hairs that before, with my blessedly bad eyesight, I didn't notice. My life was so much better before I saw my face in 10x magnification. So, DEFINITELY not a yay.

This morning, though, Jared offered to make good on the Mother's Day treat by taking the kids camping Friday night, allowing me some me-time.

But....the weather report says it might rain Friday night.

In conclusion:
Pray for sunny skies.

Just Like Home

Jack and Ellie play "McDonald's" all the time. Which is fine. Except for they play it SO WELL. As if the inner workings of McDonald's are very, very familiar to them. Like they spend perhaps a wee bit too much time at McDonald's. Jack writes up menus, and creates and assembles Happy Meal bags (complete with toy). Ellie is in charge of the cash register, and scarily enough often gets the prices right. And they say all the right lingo, and get the process down just right. Which makes me wonder.....do I perhaps take my kids to McDonald's too often, instead of making them freshly home-cooked and nutritious meals and sharing them with love over the family dinner table?


Naaaaaaah.




"Welcome to McDonald's, would you like an apple pie for just 50 cents?"

"Would you like a 4-piece or 6-piece chicken mcnugget with your Happy Meal?"

"Is that Happy Meal for a boy or a girl?"

"Here's your change, ma'am - and do you need any sauce with that?"