High Achiever

Signe and her friend Grace have long expressed a desire to be veterinarians (Long being approximately 6 months--bear in mind they are four). They a very alike. So when Grace attended a sporting event and became enraptured by the cheerleaders and threw over all hopes and aspirations to be a "pet doctor" in favor of cheerleading, Signe decided that sounded like a great career goal.



As the mothers of such ambitious girls, Lisa and I signed them up for a cheerleading camp this past week. It was three hours. The girls learned moves and a cheer and flips and got their eyes made up and received a bag at the end.




Great fun, right?


Midway through Signe was lying on the ground as often as not and when it was her turn to be lifted high the air above the two high school girls that were assisting, Signe gave them a suspicious look and crossed her arms.



"Will I be alive after this?" she questioned the instructors.


They assured her she would be fine and she reluctantly let them lift her into the air.



Afterward I asked her how she liked cheerleading.


"It was good." She says with little conviction.


"Was it fun?" I ask.


"Not SO much fun. It wore me out." She admits.


"So do you still want to be a cheerleader?"


"No." she answers.


"What do you want to be now?" I ask. Because you never know what might strike their fancy. Grace still wants to be cheerleader. . .or a waitress.


"A pet doctor." Signe states with certainty.



Apparently the best deterrent is to let them try it out! Do you think they have a vet camp somewhere? Because it is never too early to nail down what one's four year old must be when she grows up. What does your child aspire to be?

There's No Place Like Home. . .

Can I just say "Ahhhhhh."

After a nearly two weeks away from home it is GREAT to be back. I can honestly say it feels good to be doing laundry and dishes and washing sheets and making beds. Everyone should take an extended vacation so they can appreciate their home a little more.

I love my bed.

I love my yard as the sun rises very early in the morning over the trees and sheds rays of light on my flowers.

I love the smell of things growing.

I love baking in my kitchen and eating on my dishes.

I love getting back into routine, in my house and on my computer.

I missed my photoshop.

I love my neighbors who run over to help any time I ask.

I love being able to leave my window open despite it being August and let the cool breeze blow through all day. . . OH WAIT, I can't do that this weekend.

It seems I brought the heat back from Idaho with me. We are having record heat--99 today! But right now it is only 74 degrees so I won't think about that.

The only thing currently putting a damper on my home bound bliss is the fact that my girls are having . . .shall we say, a hard time acclimating to the regularly scheduled program of our life. Apparently they don't share in my enthusiasm for fresh sheets and clutter free floors.

Do you suppose it's something they will grow into?

White Dresses. . .Revisited

You might recall my post about all things white. The white sundress made my list of lovely white things that I can't get enough of. While I have been here in Idaho visiting family it just so happened that not only did I bring my girls' white dresses, but Rob's sister brought her girls' white dresses. I couldn't resist.

The only thing prettier than a little girl in a white sundress is a whole passel of little girls in white sundresses.

So I followed them around (and occasionally told them where to stand) and took loads of pictures of them in all their purity and innocence. . .

. . .because when they look like this, you don't remember their arguing, or their love of dirt, or their occasional sassiness. . .

It's a sight that just makes you sigh and deceives you for a short while into believing that they are perfect little angels who are always clean and well behaved. . .

The sun glinting off the golden locks of this six pack helps to foster the illusion. . .

Never mind the myriad of possible ways white dresses and small children are incompatible. . .

Or that streams beds are not always flowing with pure, clean, sparkly water. . .

Forget about all that . . . look at the loveliness, the innocence. . .and when all that fails??

Remember the bleach!

Is That Tom Cruise??

No, it's just my nephew, Lance. Growing up he has had an increasing resemblance to Tom Cruise, but when he walked off the plane I couldn't believe the striking resemblance.



His aunt joked that we should have found a Katie look alike to stand out front and greet him.



But his family was sure glad to see him after two years. My sister has been giddy with excitement to have him home. He has been serving an LDS mission in Hong Kong.



Apparently he gets mistaken for Tom at least twice a day. Personally, I think Lance is cuter. But perhaps I'm biased.

Simple Pleasures

Summer is full of simple pleasures. With hours of unstructured time to fill the girls get creative. They spend endless hours outside and in the water and visiting Manna and Grammy's houses. But one of my favorite things about summer, the quintessential symbol of summer, is announced with the unmistakable tinkling sound of Music Box Dancer, every Friday night.

My girls have come to expect the blue ice cream truck and wait impatiently each week for it to arrive. Some weeks they wait for hours in hopes that it is just late and go in disappointed.

I won't lie to you. I am waiting right there with them. You see, I love the ice cream truck. I don't even have to actually purchase any of the frozen delights the truck has to offer. I just love to hear the cheery tune and see the brightly painted jeep with it's side plastered with images of sticky goodness.

I grew up in the country. Ice cream trucks were rare indeed. In fact, I have only one memory of the ice cream truck ever showing up near my house. I ran to the street and flagged down the driver. I did not even take time to grab my cash. I was an excited young girl, maybe seven or eight, thrilled to finally have my first encounter with the legendary Ice Cream Man.

After assuring the man I would just run inside and grab some money I sprinted away in anticipation, only to return and find he had gone. I was devastated. He never came by again.

So when I hear the distant tinkling notes of Music Box Dancer I run, not walk, to gather my girls--and some cash-- and head for the curb. And I bring my camera. Because I want them to enjoy the simplest pleasure of summer. . . and I want it documented so we can look back later, when the rain commences, or the girls are too old to care, and enjoy it all over again.

What Rhymes with Lizard. . . ?

Last night we took the girls for a drive just for fun. Rob and I were quietly discussing whether we should stop and get a little treat while we were out. Suddenly from the back seat Signe pipes up:

"I want something. Hmmm, something that sounds like lizard." Accompanied by a thoughtful, slightly perplexed expression, like it was just on the tip of her tongue.

Can you guess what she wanted? Apparently we were talking loud enough to give our clever four year old ideas!

After we cracked up for a while we took her through the Dairy Queen drive through. Because really, how can NOT reward that kind of brilliance?!

Traditions

I am a traditional kind of girl. I love traditional, even historical homes. I dress in a fairly classic style. I have a traditional house in the country with a husband, two kids and a dog (all that is missing is the picket fence, and I have a picture of one I'd love to throw up!).

My husband often jokingly tells me I was born at least fifty years too late and probably on the wrong side of the country. I love the idea of big close-knit families that live in a house with a name that gets passed down through the generations. I aspire to one day have a home with a name that my kids will love so much that when I die they will just move in and not sell it to the highest bidder!

And I love heirlooms. I love the history of knowing something has been in the family for generations. Really, I just love history. Personal history. I don't have enough of that in my home.

But most of all I love family traditions. We didn't carry too many into our family when we married, but we have created several of our own. Traditionally, at Christmas time, our family does the 25 days of Christmas. We do something festive every day in December leading up to Christmas, ending with a formal, grand, candlelit dinner on Christmas Eve (With our heirloom silverware). And we watch a Christmas movie every night.

At Easter, the Easter bunny ALWAYS leaves a treasure hunt that leads to the baskets of goodies, with riddles and rhyming clues to show the way.

Traditionally on my birthday Rob has been out of town, so I started one of my favorite traditions--shopping for myself at Banana Republic in a major way for my birthday.

Every summer we all travel to Bear Lake, Idaho for Rob's family reunion. His Grandmother lives there. This is the first year in the eleven years we've been married that we didn't go. I am a little sad, because the girls so look forward to it--and I get a lot of great pictures. There is something about going to grandma's house during the summer that makes me nostalgic--which is funny, because I never went to my grandma's for the summer. One died before I was born and the other when I was young, and I never knew her well.

Traditionally, I take the girls to stay with my parents and Rob's parents for a week or two every summer. We are taking that trip next week and the girls can't wait. Our visit also usually falls on my niece's birthday and, since she is the same age as my oldest, this makes it extra fun for the girls.

Traditionally, on our anniversary, we go out to dinner and go shopping. I know, going on a date should be at least a monthly tradition, not a yearly one. I am working on it. But we had a great time none-the-less. Maybe one of these years I will say, "Traditionally we take a fabulous vacation on our anniversary." One can at least hope.

We have a few others, but I would love to add more. I really appreciate the comfort and expectation that traditions bring. It makes things feel stable and organized and happy. It connects us to each other, to our parents, grandparents, and children, and becomes "what our family does."

So I am wondering, are you a traditional kind of person? And if so, what are some of your family traditions?