A Month of Gratitude, Day 11

I know today is Veteran's Day, and many people are expressing their thanks for those who have served our country.  I am definitely thankful for them, but this post today needs to be devoted to something, or, rather, someone else.

Chris's Grandma Ebert is my favorite person in the world.  The first time I met her was when Chris took me to a family Christmas party soon after we began dating.  She scared me to death because she announced to pretty much the entire extended family that she liked me.  We hadn't even kissed yet, so I was not ready for the grandma to become attached.  Six months later, when he was getting ready to leave for his two-year mission for our church, she said, "Maybe he should just stay home so we can get you while you're still available!", which also scared me to death, because, come on, the missionary's grandmother is not supposed to say things like that!

When we told her we were getting married, her response was a jubilant "Yipee!", complete with an arm thrown in the air for emphasis.  It's nice to have Grandma's approval.

Ellie's full name is Elizabeth, and she is named to honor her great grandmother, Mary Elizabeth VanDam Ebert.  Interestingly, the daughter we chose to name after her also happens to be the one who inherited her personality.

I could relate so many more stories about this amazing woman - her wicked sense of humor, her fierce independence, her undying devotion to her husband through his declining years, her quick wit, and her wonderful stories about growing up as one of 14 children - but I'll share just one more.  Today, November 11, is her 92nd birthday.  She likes to tells us how, when she was little, her family would go to the Veteran's Day parade in downtown Salt Lake City, and she thought it was so wonderful that the whole city was throwing a birthday parade just for her.

So, today I'm thankful for Grandma Betty, a beautiful and delightful woman whom I am privileged to know and love.  And I'm thankful that one day I will get to carry the title of Grandma Ebert, which I will forever associate with her.

What are you thankful for today?

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.

Presentations of Pure Awesomeness

We love our local public schools.  We feel like our kids are getting a good education there.  We've had some excellent teachers, and great experiences with the administration listening to and addressing our concerns.  But sometimes we feel like they're not being challenged as much as we'd like.  So a few weeks ago, Chris and I decided to offer an incentive for the girls to do some extracurricular work.  We told them we'd pay them to research a topic and present what they'd learned to us.

Vicki's reaction was pretty much, "Meh."  Of course, she's a busy girl this year and is taking an especially challenging math class, so I can understand her not wanting to fill her downtime with extra work.

Lexi, however, jumped at the chance.  She just spent all her money on an iPod, so she's eager to fill that piggy bank back up.

She spent about a week researching the states of matter.  Chris gave her some advice and a little guidance, but she did the bulk of the work on her own.  Once she was finished with her research, she put together an awesome PowerPoint presentation for us.  I wish I had thought to actually record the whole thing, but since I didn't, here, at least, is the PowerPoint part of it.  She had notes printed out, with all kinds of information for each slide, but you'll have to use your imagination as you watch this (it's a little long and there's no sound, so feel free to skip ahead):



Not about to be outdone by her sister, Ellie decided that she needed to do a presentation, too.  Inspired by the states of matter, she chose to do her presentation on...wait for it...gas.  Oh how I wish I could have included her commentary, too, or Chris's description of her "research" process (essentially, it involved Google image searches, and him asking her, between fits of laughter, "What else is a gas?")  You will definitely want to watch the whole thing on this one:



A few comments: I have no idea what that's actually a graph of, but Chris says she told him, "We need graphs and charts!"  When she got to the "liar, liar" screen, she told us, "This means you should never hold your gas in.  You should always just let it out, or this might happen."

My kids are awesome.

Well...That Was Easy

This evening, over a plateful of hard-boiled eggs, Chris and Ellie had the following conversation:

Ellie: "How come there's no baby chicks inside the eggs when we buy them at the store?"

Chris: "Well, it's because the eggs aren't fertilized."

E: "So, that means there were no roosters around to fertilize the eggs in the chickens?"

C: "Um, yes, that's exactly what that means.  How did you know that?"

E: "Oh, I listened at the door when you and Mom were talking to sissies.  Because I wanted to learn stuff, too."

Guess that's one talk we won't have to have.

This girl cracks me up.

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!

Ask a Stupid Question...

Me: Who keeps tooting?

Ellie: It's me. I have tooteria.

Sage Advice

Tomorrow is my first day of school. I haven't been a student for over 10 years.

Needless to say, I'm a little nervous.

When I reminded the girls tonight that I'll be starting school tomorrow, Ellie said, "Mom, let me give you some advice about the first day of school."

(Let me remind you here that her school experience totals a week and a half. Still, in her lifetime that's more than me.)

"My advice for you, Mom, is: Have fun!"

I think I will.

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.

Some Things Really Shouldn't Be Named

One of the best things about visiting far-away family is telling stories about my kids.  Yes, my relatives all read the blog, but I don't blog about everything, and my kids are, honestly, complete weirdos, so there's always plenty to tell.

Yesterday while hiking, the story of Ellie's foot came up.

See, a few weeks ago Ellie discovered that she has some warts on the bottom of her foot.  Gross, I know, but it happens.  And, since this isn't our family's first experience with foot-warts, I know that they will eventually go away on their own.  Or we could cover them in duct tape for a few weeks, and that would get rid of them.  If only I wasn't on vacation and therefore too lazy to bother with the duct tape cure.  Maybe when we get home.

Anyway, I digress.

Ellie has apparently named her warts.

I swear I am not making this up.  You can't make stuff like this up.  If you ask her, she'll happily (and rather proudly) tell you all about it.  Their names are Bob, Bobby, and Timmy.  Timmy is the tiny one.  Bobby used to be named Tarzan, because he looked like a target, but now he doesn't anymore, so now he's called Bobby.

Where she comes up with stuff like this, I will likely never know.

My kids are weird.

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.

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

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.

You Should Move to Portland

The main reason we chose Portland when Chris was looking for jobs is its close proximity to EVERYTHING.

Not only is it a big city, but it's just two hours from both the ocean and the mountains.  Today I want to sell you on the mountains.

Some of our best family friends invited us to join them in a President's Day snow hike around Trillium Lake.  Given the choice between spending a day on Mt. Hood and spending a day folding laundry, I had no problem choosing Mt. Hood.

If you move to Portland, neither will you.

You could go on a snow hike around Trillium Lake, and enjoy scenery that is breathtaking in all seasons.

Mt. Hood is back there, but it's too cloudy to see.



You'd probably have to stop a few times for snacks. (Girl Scout cookies are excellent incentives when it comes to hiking up a steep, snow-covered hill.  Just FYI.)  Maybe you'd even find an igloo to eat them in.

You could have a snowball fight.

I think I have at least one snowball fight picture of these two from just
about every year that they've known each other - it's what they do.



Watch out, he's going to throw a 'nowball at you!

Or make snow angels.

If you move to Portland, and go on a snow hike, you'll discover lots of fun places to explore.

Look how deep the snow is!
Also, Ellie thinks she can fly.

Or to just roll around.

If you're under six, you'll probably get to ride some of the way.

This is the life.

And this is a good thing, because there's an awful lot of walking involved.  4.5 miles' worth, in fact.  Although if you're like us you may not discover this until the end of your hike.

The stick seemed to help when she was forced out of the sled.

You should definitely move to Portland, because if you did, you'd probably make wonderful friends, like these:

Johnny, Ellie, Anna, Lexi, Vicki, Daniel, and Noah (in the sled)

And if you moved to Portland, not only would you get to see a beautiful place like this in the winter:

But you'd be here to see that in the summer, it looks like this:

Yes, you should move to Portland.

How They See Me

In the interest of full disclosure, these pictures are nearly a year old and this post has been hanging out in "drafts" for almost as long.  I felt like posting but couldn't think of anything interesting to say.

These two pictures were drawn on the same day:





So, according to Lexi and Ellie, I have no ears, giant lips, a shocking lack of neck, and very little hair.

I love my children.

Evil Genius at Work

We're all about responsibility around our house.

We like the Love and Logic parenting method.  We give a lot of choices, mostly things along the lines of, "Do you want to wear your coat, or carry it?"

Under no circumstances do we carry the coat for them.

I volunteer at the girls' school a few days a week, helping make sure kids are in their uniform, and providing them with acceptable clothes to change into if they're not.  We have a clipboard that we use to write the names of the students who aren't appropriately dressed each day so the school secretary can call their parents.  Ellie comes along for the ride.

Yesterday morning we were finishing up and ready to head to the office.  Ellie bounced toward the stairs, grabbing the clipboard on her way and announcing that she'd carry it.  So, realizing that it would complicate my life (and it's all about me, isn't it?) if I made her put the clipboard down so she could put on her coat, I told her I'd carry the coat upstairs.

She stopped mid-bounce and looked at me with a shocked expression that quickly turned to one of triumph and glee.

"Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! [imagine, if you can, the most evil laugh a five-year-old is capable of] I got you to carry my coat!"


Wearing the coat instead of carrying it

Making Lemonade

This evening on the way home from dance class we dropped Lexi off at her friend's house for a sleepover.

Ellie was aware that this was happening, because Lexi hasn't talked about much else for days.  But when the friend's big sister took Lexi's place in the car, with a pillow in tow, it dawned on Ellie that everyone was having a sleepover but her.

But, of course, my children are calm, rational people, so we were able to discuss the matter in our big girl voices and without tears.

Yeah, right.

What actually happened is that she wailed and sobbed inconsolably for a minute or two before gaining enough control to hear me when I reminded her that sometimes she gets to have playdates and her sisters don't, and sometimes they get to have playdates or other things and she doesn't.  "That's just life," I said.

And she said, "Oh, yeah?  Well, life is dumb!"

******

My original plan was to end the post there, because it's funny, but in the time since then, Ellie has decided that it's okay if Lexi has a sleepover with Anya and Vicki has a sleepover with Kate, because she's going to have a sleepover with no one!!!

She dragged her sleeping bag and the elephant tent out of the garage and has cleared a spot in the horribly messy bedroom so we can set it up for her.  She's going to camp out on the floor and have a fabulous time, and she says being by herself isn't going to be a problem at all, because she'll have her stuffed animals to keep her company.

After the "life is dumb" comment, I asked her if she thought all of life is dumb.  Her first response was a very stubborn "Yes!", but when I asked if life is dumb when she's playing with friends, or reading stories with Daddy, or eating yummy food, she had to admit that it's not.

And apparently that's all it took tonight to turn her lemons into lemonade.

It's good to remember that yes, sometimes life is dumb, but most of the time it's actually pretty awesome.

And, of course, sleeping in the elephant tent, even by yourself, is way cooler than sleeping on a dumb old bed.

Tick...tick...tick...

Last night at 10:30 I told Chris I was just going to read one more chapter and then I’d turn off the light. Two minutes later a small person named Ellie knocked on our door and announced, “Um, I'm really sorry but I just threw up on my bed.”

And so it begins.


A moment of peace in the middle of a raging storm


The poor girl is so sick. She was tossing her cookies every 10 minutes for three hours. After that it got a little better, but she’s still struggling to keep anything, even Pedialyte, down. Thankfully, she has developed good aim, and The Throw-up Bowl (which we haven’t been able to bring ourselves to use for food for going on ten years now) is always close by.

And, amazingly, her sisters slept through the whole ordeal. Somehow my children have developed that uncanny, but incredibly useful, ability. No matter who’s doing the heaving, or how horrendous it is, the other two always manage to sleep through it.

But we all know that the stomach flu is like a time bomb. I’m just waiting to see who will be unfortunate enough to get in the way when it goes off next.

Please let it not be me...

The One-Upper

You know those people whose stories can always top yours? The people whose labor is always just a little longer and more painful than yours, or whose crazy relatives are always just a little crazier than yours?

Apparently they start young.

Yesterday Ellie decided to get a snack of cheese for herself and her friend. This involved slicing it with the extra-sharp slicer, the one that once caused me to lose a small piece of my thumb.

I was upstairs wasting time Christmas shopping online when I heard the scream. It was the kind of scream that tells me something is truly wrong, not the kind of scream that tells me someone’s sisters are "out to get them".

I found Ellie sobbing halfway up the stairs, cradling her left pinkie finger in the other hand, trying valiantly through her pain and fear to keep the blood from dripping onto the carpet. Her friend was behind her, full of concern.

I led her into the bathroom, where we rinsed off the blood so I could assess the damage (not too much, thankfully, despite all the blood). As Ellie hyperventilated at the sight of so much red washing down the drain, her friend calmly offered a few sympathetic words of comfort:

“It’s not so bad, Ellie. One time I had a paper cut, and it was so much worse than that.”

It's Not the Same Thing

Last night at dinner, Ellie was wondering something.

She wanted to know if we had "the princess diarrhea".

Having never heard of that particular ailment (and, as a side note, I'm thinking diarrhea is one of the most un-princess-like things a person can experience), I asked her to repeat herself.  While trying desperately not to crack a rib from holding in my laughter, because she was quite serious.

She still wanted to know if we had "the princess diarrhea".

But this time she clarified for me.  She was wondering about that show, where the girl doesn't know she's a princess, and then her grandma tells her.

Oh.

She meant The Princess Diaries.