Honesty is the Best Policy

An actual conversation I had this afternoon with Ellie in the bathroom at Jamba Juice (I was not the one using the bathroom):

Ellie: Mom, for some reason it looks like your butt’s really big.

Me: Um…okay.  Thanks for your honesty. *examines backside in the mirror*

E: Mom!  Stop looking at your butt!

M: Well, you said it looked big.

E: It’s not that big.

M: Oh, well, that’s better.

E: Besides, why are we even having this conversation about butts?

M: Um, because you started it?

E: Uh, no.  Your butt started it.  By being big.

I'm definitely doing something right.

Teaching My Children to Lie, and Other Mother's Day Gifts

(I have four posts in my drafts folder right now.  Only one of them is not a Random Thoughts Thursday post.  I don't know what's wrong with me that I can't complete a single blog post these days.  It's been over a month.  I think I'm just burned out from too much sitting in front of the computer while I was taking classes.  Or, at least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.  But, so help me, I am determined to actually hit the "publish" button before the day is done.  I don't even care any more what the post looks like.  So, you know, heads up :) )

Today is Mother's Day.  It's also my birthday.  I'm...old.  Okay, I'm not really that old.  In fact, I'm younger than most of my friends these days.  But I'm older than I've ever been, and while I think I'm handling it fairly well, it's still kind of a big number.  Chris and I have a kind of mutual agreement that we don't need to make a big deal of each other's birthdays.  Mostly we just don't have the energy, but when your birthdays fall a day apart, the celebrating just gets to be too much.  So we typically don't do a whole lot, and that's understood without needing to be said, and we're both okay with it.

Even with all that, though, I woke up this morning feeling a little bit bummed - knowing that it was two big days in one, and not much was going to be done to celebrate them.  And knowing that I couldn't complain, because that's just how we roll around here, and because Chris's birthday is tomorrow and I still have no idea what we're giving him (love you, honey!)

We do have one Mother's Day tradition, however, which is that Chris & the girls always make me breakfast in bed.  So even though I generally wake up when Chris gets up, I stay in bed and pretend to be asleep so they can "surprise" me.  I love it.  And that's what happened this morning.  They came in with a tray, two cards, and - what's this? - a great big box.  They made me read the cards first, then an extra card taped to the top of the box, and then I took a closer look at the plate my breakfast was on, and I slowly realized something.

Our plates don't have words on them...

And realization came stronger and stronger as they unpacked the box.  For Mother's Day, for my birthday, they made me a set of plates, each one depicting a different illustration from a children's book, hand-painted by the girls, Chris, and our good friend.  For weeks, my children and my husband, and, as it turns out, several of my friends, have been lying to me.  While I thought they were having playdates and providing free child labor for our friend, they were painting, glazing, and, in Vicki's case, driving all over the place getting these plates ready to surprise me today.

The backs all have something special on them, too, but I was in a
hurry and didn't get a picture

They're beautiful.  They're amazing.  They make me smile and cry and smile again.  They are, quite possibly, the best present I have ever received.  And I refuse to think about the number of lies I was told in order to make it happen.  They were definitely lies for a good cause, and I will cherish the knowledge of them just as much as I will cherish these plates.  They make me happy, and they're a reminder that my family knows what I love and are willing to work hard to surprise me with something they know I'll treasure.

Now I'm just sorry I don't have something equally as epic for Chris's birthday tomorrow.  I guess there's always Father's Day...

I Open My Mouth and the Words Fall Out

Sometimes, as a parent, we are required to do things that we never in a million years could possibly have imagined doing before we had children.  Things like wiping your child's nose with your bare hand, or letting them leave the house with 25 barrettes strategically placed (by them) on top of their head.

And sometimes we say things that you can't even make up.  Remember this?  The phrases come out of our mouths, and it's only once we've said them that we stop and think, holy cow, where did that come from?

For example, a few days ago the girls and I were all in the car with my mom.  The girls were in the backseat and things were getting a little heated, when I suddenly found myself uttering the following sentence: "It's not okay to call your sister a hobo unless you're willing to let her call you a hobo, too."

Being a parent is awesome.

Friendly and Helpful

One part of the Girl Scout Law states that Girl Scouts are friendly and helpful.  We discussed it at Ellie's troop meeting two weeks ago.  As a parent and a Girl Scout leader, it's nice when I get to see something like that being taken to heart.

See, it's long been a source of pride for Ellie to know that she has the longest hair in the family.  Lexi once held that title, but she had to relinquish it after suffering a self-inflicted mullet.  Ellie has loved her long hair and has been the most willing of all my girls to let me play with it, so I've loved it, too.

Then, about a month ago I was shampooing her and she said to me, completely out of the blue, "Mom, I want to get my hair cut and give it to that place that makes wigs for kids who don't have hair."

And I was blown away.

I don't know where she heard about Locks of Love, but I'm glad she did.  On Saturday we went to see my friend Erica and, after wavering a little bit, Ellie decided to go ahead and give the long hair title back to her sister.

Before

During
(Thank you, Vicki, for the cell phone picture! Mine didn't turn out.)

After!

She's so excited to mail her ponytail to Locks of Love so another little girl can have beautiful hair.  I'm so proud of my girl!

Amen, and Amen

Anyone who is, or ever has been, a parent will surely appreciate this.

You're welcome.

Mother of the Year

It was Vicki's 11th birthday a few weeks ago, and her grandparents sent her clothes.

The problem with buying clothes for a kid who lives 800 miles away is that they aren't always the same size they were the last time you saw them.

Thankfully, Grandma included a gift receipt, so Vicki and I headed off to the nearest JC Penney (which, unfortunately, is still about 20 mins. away from our house.)  We immediately found the same clothes in a bigger size, and made the exchange.  Vicki stopped off in the bathroom while I waited on a bench outside, and then we stopped in Claire's to look at jewelry before heading home.

It took a good 15 minutes to get out of the parking lot and back on the freeway (FYI, local people, 6pm on a Saturday is not a good time to leave Clackamas Town Center.)  About halfway home, a thought occurred to me, and I turned to Vicki and said, "Do you have the JC Penney bag?"

And she said, "No, you had it."

And she was right.

I had had it.  But I didn't anymore.

So we turned around, drove back to the mall, went back to the bathroom bench where I'd set the bag next to me while I waited, and where I'm 100% sure I left it when we went to Claire's.  It had been nearly an hour and it wasn't there anymore.

We checked with the nearest cashier, who called the lost & found.  Nothing.

We retraced our steps through the mall, on the off chance that I'd set it down in Claire's.  Nothing.

We check the lost & found ourselves.  Yep, nothing.

Long story short: two days and a 45-minute drive from Clackamas to Vancouver (because the missing shirt was the last one in her size) later, I replaced the missing birthday present.

Definitely not one of my finer moments.  The upside is that my daughter is an eternal optimist and not yet a teenager, so she didn't hate me, even though it was my fault.  But, you know, disappointing someone like that is almost worse.

Tell me I'm not the only one who's ever done anything like this.  Please?

Strange Conversations with Strangers

This morning Lexi woke up with a fever.

On an ordinary Sunday, this wouldn't throw too big a wrench in the works, but today happened to not be an ordinary Sunday.  Chris and I were both scheduled to teach, and since he was going to be teaching adults and I was going to be teaching 4 & 5 year olds, it was pretty obvious which lesson was going to be easier for a last-minute substitute to put together.  (The ease of convincing a last-minute substitute to teach 4 & 5 year olds is something entirely different, by the way.)

So I started down the list of willing substitutes and promptly discovered that there aren't a lot of people who answer their phone at 8:00 on a Sunday morning.  After hanging up on several voicemails and answering machines, I finally got through to someone who didn't already have a class to teach.

Just as I was breathing a sigh of relief and putting away the phone list, the phone rang.

Me: "Hello?"

Caller: "Did someone just call my house?"

Me: "Who is this?"

Caller: "Who is this?"

Me: "This is Allison Ebert."

Caller: "Did you call my house?"

Me: "I've been making a lot of phone calls this morning, so I may have.  Who is this?"

Caller: "Did you call me?"

Me: "I'm sorry, I really have no idea.  I don't have Caller ID, so unless you tell me who you are, I can't tell you if I called you or not."

Caller: "Well, I'll give you a phone number.  555-5555.  Did you call me?"

Me: "Okay, that doesn't help.  I didn't memorize all the numbers I called.  If you could tell me who you are, I'll be happy to tell you if I tried calling you or not."

Caller: "I'm not telling you my name."

Somehow we finally got off the phone.

Without her ever telling me her name.

As much as I'd like to apologize for giving this anonymous paranoid phone police lady a complex on what might have otherwise been a very pleasant Sunday morning, I'm too entertained by the bloggability of our conversation.

Time to Fly

Today I left my baby girl at school.

Actually, the more accurate description would be that today my baby girl kicked me out of her classroom.

I didn't cry at the school.  I may have cried a little on the way to school, and I may also have sobbed like a baby for a few minutes when I got home.  (And now, while I'm writing this post.)  But I didn't cry at the school.

Ellie was up at 7am, knocking on my door and announcing, "I'm a kindergartner!"  She was dressed before breakfast, and before anyone else in the house, including me.

We walked to school.  Well, Lexi and I walked.  Ellie ran and skipped the whole way.

As parents, we want our kids to grow up and try new things.  I've been excited to have the house to myself for a few hours each day for a very long time.  But now I'm feeling lonely.  I don't know what to do with myself.

Except, that is, for eating this bucket o' brownies that a friend gave me this morning.  She said she knew I'd need them.  It's good to have friends.

I miss my baby.  I miss all my girls, really.  It's awfully quiet here without them.

But I can't deny that Ellie is growing up.  She still needs me, but she's ready to be a little more independent, to experience the world for herself.

She's ready to spread her wings and fly.

Far be it from me to get in her way.

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow my baby starts school.  All-day school.

We've both been looking forward to this day for a very, very long time.

But now, suddenly, it's upon us and I'm not as excited as I thought I would be.

In fact, I'm a little bit weepy.

Ellie and I have been buddies all day, every day, just the two of us for the last four years, since Lexi started kindergarten.  I thought about taking her out for ice cream, or some other special treat, but then I realized I was the one who needed to be taken out for ice cream, and she doesn't have the funds for that.

So we just ran errands instead, like any other normal day around here.

And I took pictures.

You know, to remember.

Rushing off to save the day.  At Walmart (I know.)

"Look how else I can ride on it!"

"And also like this!"

Eating yogurt treats in the parking lot.

The last time we'll walk to school together to pick up
big sisters.  Tomorrow I'll be picking her up.

I'm really going to miss my goofball constant companion.

But I can't wait to hear all about her day tomorrow.

And I may have to indulge in some chocolate when I have the house to myself.

Shhh...don't tell Ellie.

Blast From the Past

I was looking through some old files on my computer this afternoon and came across a priceless gem called "emails from Oregon".  When we first moved here, in my pre-blog days, I wrote a long email each Sunday night keeping the grandparents and aunts & uncles up to date on all our goings-on.  Once I started the blog the emails became redundant, so I stopped, but I'm so glad I saved everything.  I have had the most entertaining (and non-productive) evening reading back over it.

Allow me to share with you a little bit of what our life was like in 2005:

July 17

• Vicki appeared upstairs, announcing that Lexi was making a mess. I went downstairs to find that Lexi had apparently decided that she was in need of lotion, and finding none nearby, had decided that her yogurt, which, after all, was a pretty pink color, would work just as well.

July 31

• The other day the girls were singing a song from one of them [Veggie Tales videos] called "Stand Up for What You Believe In". There's a part in the song that goes, "God! He's the one who backs you up! He'll stand with you!" Well, they were disagreeing because Vicki thought the lyrics were, "God! He's the one who packs you up! He'll stand on you!" And Lexi, bless her heart, thought it was, "God! He's the one who vacuums up! He'll stand in you!"

August 14

• Lexi is still changing her identity on a regular basis, as frequently as she changes her clothes. This morning before church she threw a genuine teenager-worthy hissy fit while standing in her closet because, and I quote, “I hate these clothes!” (keep in mind that this was just three days after her 3rd birthday)

Sept. 4

• Lexi said our family prayer at bedtime a few nights ago, and asked Heavenly Father to "please bless Violet and Dash, and Mr. Incredible and Elastagirl, and Jack Jack in Elastagirl's belly." while nodding at each of us in turn...Lately she has been talking to me about when she was a grown up. She'll say things like, "When you were a little kid and I was a grown up, I made the bed and you messed it up!" (while, might I add, she's in the process of gleefully messing up the bed I just made), or "When you were a little kid and I was a grown up, I made cookies and you cried because I said no cookies until after dinner." And because I know you all need a good laugh, today in Sacrament meeting, she turned to me and announced, in a very non-reverent voice, "You know, my underwear is on backwards!”

Sept. 11

• Vicki said, “I know something that’s not appropriate for dates with boys.” We asked her what, and she said, in all seriousness, “Showing your underwear.”

Nov. 7

• [Ellie] is so calm, which is really really nice given the level of chaos that we generally have around here. She just observes. I only hope she's not saving up ideas for later that she'll unleash on us all at once. (clearly, she was)

Dec. 4

• Yesterday morning Vicki woke Chris and me up by announcing outside our bedroom door that she was "freakin' hungry".

also Dec. 4

• Lexi's new clothing issue arises each morning when I try to make her wear pants while we take Vicki to school. It's been pretty cold lately, and since we don't park the car in the garage, it's cold in the car. Lexi insists on wearing a dress every morning, only to get in the car and cry because her knees or her "little leggies" are "fweezing". However, when I try to make her wear pants instead of a dress, she cries because the pants "make me look weird".

I'll stop now.  There's plenty more where this came from, though.

Maybe you don't think my kids are as hilarious as I do, but I can't stop laughing.

Back to School!

It's back-to-school week around these parts!  Vicki and Lexi started today, but kindergarten doesn't start until next Wednesday, so poor Ellie, who has been waiting forever for her turn to go to school, still has another week to go.


Vicki was so excited to be able to choose her own
clothes.  I, on the other hand, wish the uniforms
continued through high school.


Vicki and her friends have made plans to meet up and walk to school together each day, but a few of us uncool parents insisted on joining them the first day.  You know, to humiliate them with cameras.  Nothing like starting middle school off on the right foot.  At least I didn't kiss her goodbye in the classroom - even Lexi would have balked at that this year.

Middle School, here we come!

Lexi insisted on getting a messenger bag instead of a backpack.  They must not be "the thing" anymore, because we had to search everywhere before we found one that her sense of style and my wallet could agree on.  The strap is so long it bangs her in the knees, but she loves it.  I did not tell her to pose like this for her picture - this is pure Lexi.  Also, note the fluorescent socks.  With a uniform, there are only so many ways to express yourself.  And for Lexi, day-glo socks are clearly the best.

Mighty 4th Grader!

First day down for two of them, one more to go.

It's going to be mighty quiet around here after next week.

Reaching Our Destination

12 hours is a long time to be stuck in the car.

But we've made the drive between Portland and Salt Lake City 13 times now, and the girls are older and better at keeping themselves busy.

We have two portable DVD players, which surprisingly don't get as much use as they did a few years ago (although it appears that both Lexi and Ellie may have been utilizing them when I took the picture).  We also have the VCR in the car, although it, too, is mostly ignored.

Decades ago, my mom started a family road trip tradition of handing out "100-mile treats", and I've kept the tradition alive, although my mom's treats were actual, edible treats, while mine tend to be things like markers, books, and movies.  Hers were probably cheaper, but mine keep kids occupied for longer.

We always leave around 4am, and Chris drives while the girls and I snooze.  We switch sometime after breakfast, once we've stopped at one of the many gas stations we've become all too familiar with over the course of the last six years.  The hands-down best one is the Boise Stage Stop, on the Utah side of Boise.  Just in case anyone was wondering.

While driving, we play the Alphabet Game, I Spy, and 20 Questions.  We listen to music, podcasts (Radiolab, Freakonomics, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and This American Life are our favorites), and the girls singing.  Ellie sings songs she makes up, usually about such song-worthy subjects as the sun shining through the window or my sister's dogs.  Vicki and Lexi sing camp songs.

In past years, I've dreaded the drive.  It was long, it was boring, and the kids were squished and unhappy.  But now that we have a bigger car, older kids, and more life experience, I've decided it's actually kind of fun.  Too often in this house we're trying to find our own space and, essentially, get away from each other, but when we're forced to spend time in close quarters, my kids have learned that they can actually have a good time together.  They enjoy each other more, and Chris and I enjoy them.

And now I realize that these days, like the objects in the mirror, the destination is actually closer than it appears.

No "Ifs" or "Ands", Though

This morning I informed Ellie that she would be showering after swimming lessons.  Knowing full well that I was going get an earful of why she didn't really need to shower today, that perhaps some other day, sometime in the vague and distant future would suffice, I added, "No ifs, ands, or buts, Missy."

She looked at me and very sincerely said, "Okay, Mom.  I wasn't going to say 'if' or 'and' anyway.  I might say 'butt', though, because it's more fun to say than 'bum'."

Alrighty, then.  As long as we're clear on the shower.

She Still Wants to Hold My Hand

My oldest.

Volunteer.

Swimmer.

Reader.

Fearless.

6th grader.

Growing up way too fast.

When we're walking someplace, though, I often find her at my side.

She may be growing up, but she still wants to hold her mom's hand.

I love it.

The Swing

I'm cross-posting this from my other blog, so most of you have probably already seen it, but I've loved this poem since I was little, and the picture of Ellie just personifies it for me.  So now you can enjoy it twice!

How do you like to go up in a swing,

   Up in the air so blue?

Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing

   Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,

   Till I can see so wide,

Rivers and trees and cattle and all

   Over the countryside—

Till I look down on the garden green,

   Down on the roof so brown—

Up in the air I go flying again,

   Up in the air and down!

-Robert Louis Stevenson, A Child's Garden of Verses

Photography Skillz

If I leave my phone alone for more than five minutes, it's pretty much a guarantee that the next time I see it, a few more levels of Angry Birds will have been passed and there will be some interesting pictures on the camera roll.

Case in point:

This is clearly everyone's favorite app.
And Lexi's favorite pose.

I think Ellie took this one.
Why?  I don't know.

There are at least 30 variations of this.

See?

I need to buy lightbulbs.

I don't know who took this one, but I sure
hope my butt isn't really that big.

Freaky.

Also freaky.

Dad's not immune, either.

Then Vicki has to go and take a really awesome picture.
Go figure.

The moral of the story?  Guard your camera well.

Or be prepared to delete a lot.

Things that Make Me Feel Old

*Having a friend tell me about a pair of "vintage" jeans...from 1999.

*Explaining to my kids what "fast-forward" means.

*Getting a postcard in the mail from the college I'll be attending, announcing an exciting upcoming bash, and recognizing that if I went I'd be AT LEAST a decade older than anyone else there.

*Having to wait while the telephone survey people run through one more age category than they used to.

*Realizing that the 80s music I love is now being played on the Oldies station.

*Realizing that the 80s was three decades ago.

*Discovering that my body can no longer handle sleeping on the hard mattresses at Girl Scout camp - I swear it wasn't that uncomfortable last year!

*Knowing that at the end of this summer I will be a middle school parent.

*Admitting that I'm still more comfortable operating a Walkman than an iPod.

*Realizing that the 1st graders I taught before Vicki was born will be Seniors in the fall.

I'm Glad it's Today

Yesterday was a weird day.

Chris took the car because he was attending a class in Oregon City and didn't want to spend two hours biking there.  Can't really blame him.

Tuesday is my usual grocery shopping day, and when Chris said if I gave up the car for the day he'd be willing to stop by the store on his way home, I assumed a deal had been made.  I even emailed him a very specific list (I don't know how it works in other households, but whenever Chris does the shopping we end up with all kinds of weird things.)

We were out of bread, so I had to make the hated roll-ups for the girls' lunches.

Ellie and I took our time walking home from the school, gathering enough rocks, leaves, flowers, and sticks to garrison a colony of birds' nests for a month.

I discovered that the girls' laundry baskets were overflowing and decided to remedy the situation all in one day - what I was thinking when I made this decision, I may never know.

I'm glad it's today.

Vicki had her first book club meeting after school, so she went straight to her friend's house, but we brought home a replacement child for a spontaneous playdate.

We got home to find Chris there.   His class had finished earlier than he'd expected, and he was trying to set up the computer so he could do some work from home.

And there were no groceries.

Apparently there'd been a miscommunication.  While I thought he was for sure going to stop at the store on his way home, he thought that he'd do it if it worked out.  But he was finished with the class earlier than he expected and thought he'd get some work done.  Since he gets paid to work, but not to shop for groceries, I can't really complain.

So instead I told him he was in charge of the three girls downstairs, told the three girls downstairs that the man upstairs was in charge and that they could have an after-school snack of goldfish crackers, and left for the store.

I arrived home less than an hour later to find my husband still upstairs, blissfully unaware of the fact that downstairs were three little girls who had eaten their way through half a bag (a Costco-sized bag, by the way) of goldfish crackers, six packages of fruit snacks, and three Go-Gurts, and were now sitting in the living room watching "The Electric Company" with their feet in giant bowls of water.

Sigh.

I'm glad it's today.

During dinner, we asked Vicki how her day at school had gone, knowing full well she'd had the "My Changing Body" talk and video that afternoon.  Blushing furiously, she admitted that it wasn't that bad, and that she really hadn't learned anything new, except that animals go through puberty, too.  That was the question she submitted for the Q&A session after the video (God bless those wonderful teachers forever.)

She mentioned a few of the other questions that had been (anonymously) submitted.  When she said that one of them had been, "What's a virgin?", Lexi, having no idea herself, shouted, "Virgins!  Let's all be virgins!"

Sounds like a good idea to me.

I'm glad it's today.

This morning, Ellie and our babysitting friend Violet found the bag of craft feathers that Vicki and Lexi had been using the other day, and decided to decorate the living room with them.

I'm...glad it's today?

Speech Impediments

Ellie can't say the initial "R" sound.  She's only five, so we're not really that worried about it yet, and I suppose it's not truly a speech impediment at this point (and I hope it's clear that I'm in no way making fun of people with speech impediments.  Just my own child.)

The best part about this is that she has absolutely no idea that she's saying words wrong.  She thinks she rules the world, so therefore however she says something must be the right way to say it.

Tonight Chris was singing along with the song that was playing while Vicki was cleaning the playroom.  It was that "A is for apple, B is for bug" song.  However, he kept making up new words for each letter.  Rather than yell at him for messing with things, Ellie said, "Dad, don't forget 'Y is for why-no!'"

My days are going to be really dull when she starts kindergarten in the fall.

Just Because

Yesterday was an up-and-down day on Lexi's roller coaster ride of life, but she's still my sunshine on a cloudy day.  I love my Lexi-Lou.