Daddy's Homecoming

The other day, as I was "Momming" around town, I saw a young boy, perhaps 12 years old running around the corner, with a car that was turning the same corner. The boy was so happy, with a big grin on his face. I added my own story to his scene. I thought, "He must be racing to meet his dad after work."

While I never really referred to my dad as "Daddy", when I looked like this:

No need to crop this picture right? All of the extra details make for fun memories

 I did race to meet my dad every day after work, particularly in the summers when he worked for a large school district about 45 minutes north of my house. He taught drivers' ed and for this particular job, he had a very regular schedule. We could always count on seeing him come around the corner, just past Pete Henderson's. He drove a little green Isuzu that once belonged to my uncle Heber. I remember feeling like a "tv kid" because my dad would come home at the same time every day in the summers (during the school years, his homecoming was all over the place). When I say "tv kid" I mean that I often pretended to be one of the little girls on some of our favorite television shows: Cosby, Growing Pains, Who's the Boss, Punky Brewster, Charles in Charge, etc. and those girls always seemed to have a perfect, regular, predictable life.

Oh wait -- didn't I?

Ha haa ha -- it wasn't perfect but perfect for me :-)

Another reason this "memory" came to mind is because I read an article in my local newspaper about a drivers' ed instructor who taught for 44 years. I enjoyed the article. What a good guy: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/dannywestneat/2018743089_danny22.html

Older than the hills

I'm sure you've all got stuff lying around that should have been thrown out a long time ago. Do you remember the kinds of head phones we wore as teenagers on the school bus thinking we were all that?

Today, my children and I were racing out the door to violin lesson. I had the grand idea to grab my laptop so my son could play some games during the hour-long lesson. Oh, and he would need headphones. We actually have little ear buds all over the place, but I couldn't think about that at a time like this, so I just grabbed the nearest thing - my husband's old, very old headphones.

As you can see, I really want you to have the picture in your head of these headphones. This story isn't even that funny, but when I told my husband about it tonight, we did one of those laughing-so-hard-no-sound comes out kind of thing.
As I pulled the headphones out of my computer bag to hand to my son, noticed crumbly black stuff was coming off in my hand like crazy. I wiped the black crumbles away quickly before the violin teacher might notice. The computer was on a little table and my son happily put the headphones on him and was content throughout the lesson. When I peeped over at him halfway, he had black foam crumbles all over his cheeks and shirt. The headphones were shedding. It was quite a sight. There was black crumbly stuff on the floor (I did manage to pick up the bigger pieces to throw away). Anyway, I wish I could have snapped a picture of my son, with a black beard of headphone foam. Then I know you'd laugh.

He didn't have a clue, by the way.

One Ziploc at a time

This one is for my sisters, who tease me mercilessly about my "Northwest Ways" i.e. recycling.

I think this one is past its prime

I'll have you know, my neighbor up the street actually has a Ziploc bag drier on his counter :-).  I think he can do 6 at a time.

Now, you can start singing a song about Mother Earth. I am just doing my part. Maybe you should start swaying too.

Introducing

I came across this picture the other day as I was organizing a storage bin, it made me laugh and might make you laugh too.

Without further adieu, I'd like to introduce you to "My Cousin Matt"

Did you find him?

I'm so glad he made his mark on my wedding day.

Olympics - Can we do it? Yes, we can!

Every family reunion, my brother Don comes out with the best sayings. So far, this year my kids just keep singing: "My Solo Cup will fill you up, let's have a party" or they'll say, "Mom, can we do it -- YES WE CAN!!".

Just for fun's sake, I'll post ther years' sayings from him:

"Rise and Shine, it's a brand new day."

"We're going to clean up this whole pit area."

"Who's your favorite uncle/brother?"

Feel free to add more . . .

This year is an Olympic year, which is fun and exciting. I become glued to the television and all of the sporting events, I especially love track and field and gymnastics and swimming and  . . .

Years ago, I babysat a family with active boys. One summer day, we had the idea to do track events, so we set up hurdles and planned races around their house. It was loads of fun. Fast forward about 25 years, and here I am doing the same thing with my kids. Every Monday evening, I've been in charge of our "Family Home Evening" activity. So, each Monday I've come up with a sort of track and field event.

Kids competed individually, this one show the celebratory race afterward

Shot Put: Used a weighted therapy ball
Discus: Duct-taped a bean bag to a frisbee
High Jump: On the trampoline and with a piece of paper in their hand, they taped a piece to the highest point (they could jump) of our trampoline cage
Hurdles: Obstacles included two kitchen stools and two Home Depot Buckets, and a little jaunt around the yard

Parade of Athletes :-)

The rest of the Family Olympics to be continued. . .

Visiting Janie

Before Janie has her baby, I wanted to add this funny picture to the experience. She is so teeny, but believe it or not, she is going to have her baby next week.

My son thought it might be fun to "check jets" with Janie and see who was bigger.

Pregnancy is such an odd phenomenon isn't it? I can't believe a little baby is swimming around in there Janie. .

Butter is covered

I've been unpacking from a  big family trip across a few states. As I've done so, I came across 3 major irritants, which reminded me of a funny family story and made me chuckle at my own ignorance.

Part of the trip included two camping trips, so before we left, I gathered all the supplies and kind of let my mind exaggerate what was really "needed". I was thinking about camping food and thought, "Hmm, I have all the making of S'Mores, we can have that when we go camping."

Keep in mind that my furnace was still on when we left Washington, and I was wearing pants and a knit jacket. It was also pouring rain. Obviously, I wasn't thinking about the intense car heat awaiting my Toyota in Southeastern Idaho.

These marshamallows have seen better days - Marshamallow Creme anyone?

I'm so glad the choclate didn't escape the wrapper - so glad.

So, in went my marshamallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers. And, guess what, those three items are the most welll-traveled "S'More" makings in the country. I carted those things around everywhere I went, by the 3rd or 4th day, realized the marshamallows couldn't take treatment I was giving them (leaving them in a grocery bag in my car in 90+ degree temperatures) and the Hershey bar wasn't far behind.



I need to find a fire pit.

I'm reading your mind. Why didn't I just make S'Mores? Well, at the first family reunion, I realized I probably didn't have enough supplies for the big crew and we were having dutch oven peach cobbler -- who's thinking of S'Mores when there is cobbler around the corner? Honestly, I also didn't want to go to the trouble of pulling out this gooey mess without clean running water closeby (kids way outnumbered the adults - it would have been Meeeesssssyy.)

The second camping trip was fire-less.

Ha - ha, it was a first for me too. It was still fun.

The family story I am reminded of is when my Grandpa insisted on buying the butter in Idaho for Thanksgiving dinner to be held in St. George UT - something like 7 hours away. When my family's full car pulled into my grandpa's home to pick him up for the big trip, he came out with a case of butter. He was insistent. My dad simply couldn't talk him out of bringing the butter. The argument that butter is sold in Southern Utah was pointless. Grandpa was meeting the agreement, he agreed to provide the butter and he did it. So, in our already-cramped station wagon, we packed the butter away.