California Vacation

So, is the purpose of a vacation to relax and enjoy yourself? Or to learn new things--about yourself and your destination?

Our Northern California trip this summer fell into the second category. Here's a few things we learned:

The only thing better than eating a donut as big as your head is eating a donut as big as your head every day for four days. Ditto on the chocolate croissants for Mom and Dad.

Yes, your cousins have cooler toys than you do.

Sand in your underwear doesn't really feel that good.

Nothing beats an old-school Crockett Scrabble game.

Why is it fun to splash other people, but it's not fun if other people splash you?

You can never really get away from work. And, even on an iPad, answering e-mail is just not that cool.

The ocean is really cold.

The following sentence only makes sense to adults: "Don't bother putting on your swimsuit. It's so cold you won't want to go in the water."

Always leave room in your plans for an unexpected adventure.

Try not to let the unexpected adventure be the discovery of poison oak. Luckily we got away with an intellectual and not a hands-on lesson.

You're never too young to play in the sand.

And...

When it's midnight and you're hungry, you can still get really great food in San Francisco. Lehi hasn't reached that stage yet.

Only I could bring you this post

Last year we raised a good-size crop (for us) of red potatoes. We stored them in a box in the basement, hoping that the dark, cool spot would keep them. We ate them for a good six months.

Then we forgot about them.

This week we cleaned the basement.

We discovered the box of red potatoes, now ready to star in a veggie-themed horror movie.

Beyond their grotesque sprouts, stretching futilely toward a light source, we discovered the interesting fact that they had completely used up every speck of nutrition from the potato itself.

The only thing left of the original potato is a shriveled carcass, sucked dry.

You think there's a parenting analogy, here?

Nah.

Isn't it fun to have a new obsession?

Charlotte's birthday

I didn't realize I hadn't posted since our pre-summer-vacation snowfall. Summer did indeed arrive with all the fun, bugs, and weeds we'd forgotten since last year.

Charlotte's birthday was in June, and other than an unexpected case of 24-hour flu, was a lot of fun. We had to hold her celebrations in stages--before the flu, the next morning, and the next evening, depending on how much she was up for (that explains the different outfit in each photo).

As usual, Dad picked the favorite present--the princess castle.

I get credit for the "most bang for the buck" present: 12 Barbie dresses and accessories for $20. Granted, they have that "made in a Chinese factory" sense of style (peach dress with gold spider web trim, a pink ruffle and red straps). But Charlotte has a great time.

Everyone got to help decorate the butterfly wings on her cake with candy designs. I've become a big fan of the decorate-your-own-cake idea. Mainly because it means that I'm not responsible for how it looks.

The home stretch to summer vacation

This is the last week of school. Mere hours separate Carden and Seth from swimming pools, popsicles, and bottles of sunscreen.

Can't you just see it?

Seth's sports

Seth wrapped up his first semester of gymnastics this week. He downplays his enthusiasm for it, but it's hysterical to watch him bounce to his event, do his routine, and then bounce back to his seat. And he loves the chalk buckets. I've tried to explain that the chalk is only useful on your palms. But Seth is thorough, and before he gets on the high bar, he has chalk all the way up to his elbows.


If nothing else, he's gained a new way to move about the house (cartwheels), and now has fancy vocabulary to go along with it.

"Seth, please stop jumping on the couch."

"Mom, I wasn't jumping, that was a donkey kick."

"Seth, don't jump on the bed."

"But Mom, aren't I so good at round-offs?"


He's also in the middle of spring soccer, as is Carden. He's jumped into soccer with the same bouncy enthusiasm. He never wants to be subbed out during the game, and he loves to be right in the middle of the action. His signature moves are the "slide kick" where he slides into the chum to kick the ball (usually getting trampled in the process) and the "kick the ball so hard your shoe flies off" kick (self-explanatory).

My new shirt

I have a new shirt, and since it's the most expensive thing in my closet, I thought it deserved its own post.


It's yellow. Cheery and bright. I don't have many yellow shirts; in fact, I think this is the only one. About time I branched into new territory.




It's classic. Necklines come and go, but a good old button-down will never fail you.




And it's full of embellishments. Claire loves it when I wear this shirt. So much visual stimulation! So many things to grab, poke, and yank on.

Did I mention it comes with accessories, too? Mainly seven hyperactive 9-year-old boys learning to tie knots, cook over open fires, and use pocket knives.

Don't you wish you had a yellow shirt?