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?

The Christmas that Almost Wasn't

A bit of a warning: this is a really long post.  I tried to make it shorter, but it's just not as much fun if you don't get all the details.  Bear with me, and hopefully it will be worth it once you've made it all the way through!  

When we left all of our family behind in Utah seven and a half years ago, it was with the unspoken understanding that we would bring the grandchildren home every year for Christmas.  So every year we pack our bags full of winter gear and Christmas presents, load up the car, and drive for 12 hours to spend a few weeks with the people we love.

This year was no different.  We loaded up Friday evening and got up early Saturday morning to begin our drive.  We usually leave around 3:00 in the morning so the girls will sleep for the first part of the drive, but this year the alarm malfunctioned and we didn't take off until just after 5:00.

We warned the girls that this would be a different drive than they were used to, because they were going to be awake for a lot more of it than they were used to.  Changes in plans do not go over well for people with Ebert genes, so we wanted to give them enough of a heads up that we didn't have to deal with drama when it took forever to get to Grandma's house.

Well.  It was certainly a different drive.  Just not for the reasons we anticipated.

About 3 hours into the drive, we were passing Pendelton, and I turned around to take a picture of the girls, who had snoozed a little and were now all happily occupied with movies and various other activities.

Little do they know...

Chris and I began talking about how efficiently we must have packed, because it didn't seem like the car was quite as full as usual.

And that's when it hit me, like the proverbial ton of bricks, that there was a very good reason why it didn't seem so full: because it wasn't.  There were three bags of Christmas presents at home in our closet.

All of the girls' Christmas presents.  ALL of them.

While packing Friday, I had gone through all the presents we were bringing with us and organized them into bags and boxes.  All the wrapped gifts for our families and from the girls to each other were in a pile on my bed, next to a giant - closed - box of unwrapped gifts for Chris and myself and the couple of things that were for the whole family.  Everything the girls were getting was sorted into three big grocery bags and put out of sight in my closet, where they had been hiding for the last several weeks anyway.  And, due to some miscommunication about what, exactly, was in the giant box, where they still were.

Once I had finished repeating variations of "Oh my gosh" and "Oh, no, no, no, no, no" and was able to explain to Chris why I had launched into complete and utter freak-out mode, he pulled the car off at the next exit, and we got out so we could discuss the situation without three extra pairs of ears.

Our first thought was, of course, that we would have to turn around and go back.  Another three hours in the car, except this time moving further away from our goal.  Our second, happier, thought was that maybe we could continue on to Utah, and somehow manage to book a plane ticket for either Chris or myself from Salt Lake to Portland and back again.  Because he travels for work, Chris has MVP gold status with Alaska Airlines, so he called them to see if there was anything they could do for us.  And there was, to the tune of $700.  The day before Christmas Eve is not a good time to book a last-minute plane ticket, FYI.

Back to square one.

So while I freaked out some more, Chris called his dad, hoping for another, less freaked out brain to help think things through.  After determining that the only keys to our house were with us, meaning no one could get in and overnight everything to us, and that no, we couldn't just rush out and replace everything once we got to Salt Lake and then return the stuff in our closet once we got home (which was also my dad's suggestion - he even went so far as to offer to start searching right away and save us some time), his dad realized that not only had Chris's brother and his girlfriend stayed overnight in La Grande, 45 minutes down the road, but that they were still there.

After much frantic phone calling back and forth between the three parties, it was determined that we would head to La Grande and meet up with Blaine and Mel, who would then take our car and continue on with the girls as far as Ogden, where Grandma & Grandpa would then meet them, give them a car, and take the girls on to Sandy.  Chris and I, meanwhile, would take Blaine & Mel's car and head back to Portland.  It is important to note that these two are saints, because not everybody would willingly agree to lock themselves in a car for seven hours with someone else's children.  Not even parents willingly do that.

All the way to La Grande we discussed with the girls what was happening.  The hard part was being as clear as we could about why it needed to happen while still being vague enough to keep from destroying certain beliefs.  We told the girls we forgot the presents and needed to go back and get them.  Ellie, who was sitting in the way back, immediately piped up, "No we didn't!  I can see them!  They're right here!"  And Vicki said, "Yeah, I carried them to the car."  And we said, again, "Nope, we forgot the presents."  Vicki caught on then, and started telling Ellie, "No, just trust them, they forgot stuff.", all the while with a look of horror on her face as it dawned on her just what had been forgotten.  Lexi didn't say much, but I think she's trying hard to hold on to certain beliefs, despite her brain telling her otherwise, and she didn't want to think about it any more than she really had to.  Once they understood that a return to Portland by some of the people in our car was inevitable, they immediately promised to be good for Blaine & Mel.  With the alternative being more time in the car, it was an easy promise to make.

So we got to La Grande around 9:30 in the morning, and, after a gas and potty break, Blaine, Mel, and the girls took off in one direction while Chris & I took off in another.  Four hours later, we were back home in Portland, where we headed straight upstairs to the master bedroom closet, pulled out my three very organized bags of presents, and put them in the car before grabbing a quick lunch and getting back on the road.

At one point, I called Mel to see how things were going, and she answered with, "We just had the best experience at a gas station.  With llamas!"

Llamas make any trip worthwhile

So things went great for them.  Fears were unfounded: the girls behaved, no one threw up, I was the only one who freaked out the entire trip.  It's not surprising, really, considering they've made this drive twice a year for the last seven years, but it's good to know they can do it.

And it's a good thing Chris and I like each other.  We talked, we listened to podcasts, we enjoyed music that we wanted to listen to... it was like a very long date, in a car.  And we decided to enjoy every minute of it.  What else could we do?

As much as we just wanted to get to our final destination, we knew that it would be too much to try and drive straight to Salt Lake, so we stopped around 10:30 at the Super 8 motel in Boise and had an impromptu overnight date.  After breakfast at Denny's we set off again at 8:45 the next morning, stopping in Ogden to trade cars with Blaine before finally arriving at Chris's parents' house just after 2:00 Sunday afternoon.

The total driving time for us came to 20 hours.  Yikes.

But, guess what?  It was totally worth it.  Because on Christmas morning, we got to see this:

Roller skates!

Perfect for the budding artist

Google Nexus tablet - she's been dying for this for a year now

Robotics 101

She didn't take the skates off or put down the
bunny all day long

I will be the first to admit that this was truly a first world problem.  There are so many people in this world who didn't even have presents to leave behind.  And, of course, we know that Christmas isn't about the presents, but the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ.  Still, we were blessed this year to be able to provide some things for our girls that they really wanted, and it would have been sad for all of us if they'd had to wait for two weeks to receive them.

It turned out to be the best Christmas we've ever had.  I don't know whether everything was better because we had to work so hard to have it here, or if it's just that we really scored this year as far as knowing what the girls wanted, but whatever the reason, it was an excellent Christmas.  Well worth 20 hours in a car.

And, besides, now we have an awesome story to tell.

Doing Our Part

When a person is diagnosed with a physical illness, more often than not they are immediately showered with sympathy, love, and support.

When a person is diagnosed with a mental illness, more often than not they are immediately abandoned by the same people who would have supported them through a physical illness.

This is so very, very wrong.

Thank goodness for the National Alliance on Mental Illness.  NAMI is the largest education, support, and advocacy organization that serves the needs of all those whose lives are touched by mental illness.  This includes persons with mental illness, their families, friends, employers, the law enforcement community and policy makers.

Five years ago someone I love dearly was diagnosed with a mental illness.  Fortunately, he is one of the lucky ones who has a family that is educated and supportive, thanks in part to NAMI.  Though it has definitely been a bumpy road, this loved one is currently doing well, but it is a battle he fights every day, and admire him for it.

Last year I discovered NAMIWalks.  This year's Portland walk is on May 20, and our family is excited to participate!  Last year I walked alone, but this year Chris and the girls are joining me.  This is something that we, as a family, can do to help raise awareness for this amazing organization, and to help fight the stigma that, honestly, should no longer be surrounding mental illness.  We are also hoping to raise a little money for the organization.

If you feel inclined or inspired to support us in this event, please visit our walker web page, where you will find a safe, easy, and secure way to donate to the cause.  Every little bit helps.

If you are interested in joining us, we'd love to add to our numbers!  You can also find information on our web page about signing up as a walker yourself.  If you're far from Portland but are still interested in walking, you can find information about NAMIWalks nationwide right here.

It's time to get rid of the stigma and realize that people with mental illness deserve the same respect and right to treatment as those with physical illnesses.

We're doing what we can to help out.  Will you help, too?

Why I Love My Brother

If you haven't read this post yet, this won't make sense.

Thanks, Robbie!

Junior Mythbusters

We're big fans of Mythbusters around here.  In fact, over the past several months, Friday night has become our traditional Mythbusters & panini night (thank you, Amazon instant video, for feeding our habit.)  Heaven forbid we plan anything else on a Friday.

One of the Mythbusters' taglines is "don't try this at home".  However, there's one myth we've always wanted to test: Diet Coke and Mentos.  Around Christmastime, I discovered a kit that contained a roll of Mentos and a plastic tube designed to let you drop several mints into a bottle of Coke at one time.

The setup

A plastic pin holds the mints in place until you're ready to pull the cord and release them all at once, and there's a hole in the top for the resulting geyser of Coke.  Of course I had to buy it.  We've had the kit since then, but haven't gotten around to using it.

Until this weekend.

Uncle Blaine and Aunt Mel came to visit us from Seattle.  Blaine is a big Mythbusters fan, too, and it was finally not raining, so Saturday seemed like the perfect day to try out this experiment for ourselves.

We headed over to the park and set up in the grass.  The girls took turns dropping the mints into the tube, and then we all stood back.

Vicki somehow managed to score the role of
cord-puller without a fight

I think it's safe to say we had a blast.

10 Items to Cross Off My Bucket List

The following items may or may not have actually been on any bucket list I may or may not have actually made.  But even if they weren't, they should have been.

1. Ring in the New Year in an airport.

Thankfully, no one got a butt shot of me

For Christmas this year, Chris's parents gave their children a Caribbean cruise.  We celebrated New Year's Day by watching Miami slowly disappear into the sunset.

Of course, before that, we had to celebrate New Year's Eve in the Salt Lake airport, waiting for our 1am flight to Atlanta.  By the time we arrived in Atlanta for our 4-hour layover, and despite (or, quite possibly, because of) the sleeping meds we took to help us on the red-eye, we were exhausted.  After a surprising breakfast at Chili's (I know, right?), we staked out our spots and crashed for an hour or two before it was on to Miami, where we boarded the majestic, if badly decorated, Norwegian Pearl and set off on a beautiful adventure on the Caribbean Sea.

2. Visit the Bahamas

Paradise, anyone?

Our first stop was Great Stirrup Cay, a private island owned by Norwegian Cruise Lines.  They schedule the island so that only one ship is there at a time, so we only had to share this little piece of paradise with the 2000+ other passengers on the ship.  We snorkeled a bit, but mostly just enjoyed the temperature difference between Utah and the Bahamas.

3. Bowl at sea

Yes, it is possible to bowl on a cruise ship.  It is not necessarily possible to bowl well, but at least on a cruise ship when you bowl badly you can blame it on the sea.

4. Zip line through the jungle

Those things are FAST!

When we went to Alaska, one of the excursions offered was a zip line adventure.  I really wanted to do it, but I was outvoted and we went on a float plane ride instead.  I've never regretted that, because it was pretty amazing, but I've still always wanted to experience the zip lines.  They did not disappoint.  And I think flying through the Jamaican jungle canopy was probably cooler than flying through Alaskan treetops, anyway.

5. Eat authentic Jamaica jerk chicken

It was really hard to get a clear picture, due to all the smoke, but those
are chickens splayed out on tree branches above a giant smoke pit
and covered by corrugated tin.

Oh. My. Word.  Our driver in Jamaica took us to this little place called Scotchies, where I ate the BEST chicken I have ever had.  I highly recommend it if you ever visit Ocho Rios.

And, as a side note, everyone in Jamaica really does say, "Mon."

6. Find out of Grand Cayman really lives up to all those John Grisham books

Cemetery Beach.  Gorgeous.  Peaceful.  Happiness.

Okay, I couldn't honestly tell if it does, since I wasn't there to embezzle company funds.  But it's beautiful and the snorkeling is awesome.

7. Get a fingerprint sunburn

Oops.

8. See a spotted eel off the coast of Cozumel

Me, Mel, & Erica rockin' the snorkel gear

Snorkeling in the Caribbean is like swimming in an aquarium.  The water is amazingly clear and the fish are pretty friendly.  The spotted eels, not so much.

9. Do pretty much nothing but eat, sleep, and read for an entire week

Oh, yeah.

10. Spend an amazing week with some of my favorite people

Thank you, Ron and Perri, for a fun, relaxing, rejuvenating, much-needed and thoroughly enjoyed vacation!

Small and Simple Things

Back in April I posted this, about the NAMIWalk I was participating in here in Portland.

I was stunned at the outpouring of support I received for this event.  Stunned and so grateful.

Clearly, there are more people concerned about fighting the stigma of mental illness than I first realized.  After I posted, I had friends come to me and tell me about someone they knew who was living with mental illness, or about their own personal struggles with it.

Just like many physical illnesses, it isn't immediately apparent when someone is mentally ill.  Your neighbor, co-worker, fellow parent on the playground, or acquaintance from church could be waging a silent war every single day, and you might never know it.  It's easy to feel helpless, to wonder what you can possibly do to help.  I know this; I spent four years trying to figure it out.

And then I learned more about NAMI.

NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) is the largest education, support, and advocacy organization that serves the needs of all those whose lives are touched by mental illness. This includes persons with mental illness, their families, friends, employers, the law enforcement community and policy makers.  And NAMIWalks is an opportunity to raise money for the various chapters of NAMI nationwide.

I know many of my readers live in Utah.  The Utah NAMIWalk is taking place in two weeks, on Sat. Sept. 24.  Several members of my family are participating in this event, and I encourage any of you who feel so inclined to consider joining them.  You don't have to join their team (although they'd probably welcome you with open arms); you can walk as an individual - it's what I did.  But it's a great way to spend a morning and help fight the stigma of mental illness.  (If you're not in Utah, you can always check here to find the date of the Walk in your area.)

It's not really a big deal.  It doesn't take that much time.  But there's a verse in the Book of Mormon that I've always loved: "...by small and simple things are great things brought to pass." (Alma 37:6)  Walking 5K on a Saturday morning may not seem like much, but it's a step in the right direction, and together we can make a difference.

Klowning Around

My brother Robbie was a film major in college and now makes commercials for a firm called VitalSmarts.  Even when he was in high school, he and a bunch of his friends used to make movies just for fun.  A few years ago, he put a bunch of his movies from high school and college onto DVDs and handed them out to family members.  My children love watching Uncle Robbie's movies.

One of these movies is a little gem called "Apokalypse Klown", starring my brother's friend Brad as a really freaky clown who lives in the basement and, as clowns are wont to do, kills people.  The girls like watching it, but they find the clown freaky all the same.

Today we went to church with my parents.  It just so happens that Brad of the Klown fame also goes to my parents' church.  When I saw him after Sacrament Meeting, I pointed him out to Vicki and Lexi.  "See that guy over there talking to Uncle Robbie?  He's the clown from 'Apokalypse Klown'!"

Blink, blink.  "Really?"

"Yep!  Do you want to go meet him?"

Both of them shuddered, and neither one paused for even a second before answering "NO!!!" in voices much too loud for church.

Apokalypse Klown, your legacy lives on.  And I'm really glad we don't have a basement.

Family Try-athlon

My wonderful father-in-law turned 60 at the beginning of this month, and all he wanted for his birthday was for the entire family to join him in a triathlon Sprint (that's half-Olympic distances).

The man on the big day.
(I stole this picture from my sister-in-law's blog.  Sorry, Em!)

I love my father-in-law to death, but any request involving running is not one that I'm terribly excited to meet.

The good news was that the expectations were low.  His plans originally included naps in between each leg.  That's my kind of athletic event.

The event was in the works for several months (Eberts are big on planning.  And pre-planning.)  T-shirts were designed and the date was set for May 7.  The rest of the family is in Utah, so they reserved a swimming pool and plotted out a course for the bike and run/walk.  They kept us Oregonians abreast of the plans and as the big day approached we worked really hard to get in shape and get ready talked a lot about our own participation.

The Sprint distances are 750m swim (1/2 mi), 20k bike ride (12.4 mi), and 5k run (3.1 mi).  We were given the completely guilt-free option of adapting each leg in whatever way suited our abilities.  My abilities are thus: I haven't swam a lap since about 1994, I own a bike and sometimes I ride it, and I loathe running but frequently walk our children to school.

Basically, I figured I'd be fine with walking the 5k, except for the fact that I didn't think I'd live through the swim, let alone the bike ride.

The morning of the 7th, though, I discovered the Ironkids triathlon distances (the Intermediate, for ages 9-11, is a 150 yard swim, 4 mile bike ride, and 1 mile run) and, knowing that Vicki really wanted to participate, decided that of course she needed someone to do it with her.  Problem solved, death averted.
I didn't pull the camera out at the pool, but Vicki and I swam our laps first while Chris played with Lexi and Ellie.  150 yards is 3 laps, which is much more doable than the 18 laps required by the Sprint distance.  Even so, I found the backstroke to be my friend.  The crawl stroke, not so much.  Vicki beat me by a long shot.  Once I could breathe again, Chris and I switched places, and we girls played while he swam.

We decided to do our run/walk before the bike ride, since we were already at the high school.  Lexi took off running, did one lap, and decided she was done.

Go, Lexi, go!

She and Ellie spent the rest of the time crawling under the fence, collecting rocks, and playing on the bleachers.

Prison break?  Nope, just two cute kiddos!

Chris, Vicki, and I walked a mile together before Vicki declared herself done and ran off to join her sisters.  At that point, I was "officially" done, too, since I was doing the same distances as Vicki, but I decided to keep Chris company for the remaining two miles.  Because I'm nice like that, but also because I figured that was the one leg of the Sprint I could actually do without dying.

Here's a view of the lovely weather we enjoyed.

It sprinkled on us a little bit, but the heavens didn't actually open until we were completely finished. Small blessings are sometimes the sweetest.

After we finished at the track, Chris took off on his 12-mile bike ride while the girls and I hung out at home.  It took him about an hour, and then Vicki and I took off.

We rode from our house to the Columbia River and back, which worked out to be 5 miles round-trip instead of 4, but we made it.  Vicki had never ridden that far before, and she did a great job!

Halfway point.  I love where we live!

I'm amazed at how much I actually enjoyed this event.  It would have been more fun to do it with the whole family, but we had a blast on our own.  Ron, if you want to do this every year, we're in (as long as we can still walk instead of run)!

Oh, and Happy Birthday!!!  We love you!

I'm Just Doing My Part

Just under a week until I participate in the Northwest NAMIWalk!

I first posted about this walk about a month ago, and in that short time I have been amazed at the outpouring of generosity that I've received.  I set an original fundraising goal of $100, feeling fairly confident that I could raise that much over the course of a month without too much trouble.

Within two days I had more than doubled it.

What this tells me, aside from the fact that I am blessed to know some very generous souls, is that fighting the stigma of mental illness is something that is important to more people than I first realized.

It's important to me, as I said before, because I have a close family member who is fighting a valiant battle against mental illness.  And, in fact, this person is not the only member of my extended family fighting this battle.

I'm willing to bet that every single person reading this blog right now knows someone who is battling mental illness in some way, shape, or form.  It's far more common that we'd like to think.  And it's easy to feel helpless when it comes to something like this.  I know I have.  I live too far from this family member to be able to offer any physical support, and so for four years I've wondered what I can do, aside from continual prayers and constant reminders of how much I love them.

But by giving up just a few hours this coming Sunday (and getting some exercise in return!), I will be contributing nearly $300 to NAMI, a wonderful education, support, and advocacy organization that serves all those whose lives are touched by mental illness.  It's not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it's a lot to me.

Most importantly, I'm helping to raise awareness.  Mental illness SHOULD NOT be stigmafied.  For a long time, we didn't understand enough about it, but that isn't true any longer.  Medicine has come a long way, and we now have the capability to treat illnesses of the mind with the same regard as illnesses of the body.  I feel like more is being done lately to help fight the stigma (like this moment on Glee, which made me cry), but we still have a long way to go.

If you are able to contribute even a little toward my walk, I encourage you to do so by visiting my walker web page.  If you are not, and I understand that not everyone is in a position to do so, I encourage you to think about what you can do to help raise awareness and improve the lives of those dealing with mental illness.  If a brisk walk appeals to you, consider joining me on Sunday, so I don't have to walk alone!  (And if you're not local to the Portland Metro area but are interested in walking, check here for a Walk in your state - Utah's is on Saturday, Sept. 24 and I know several members of my family who will be walking then.)

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to those who have donated.  I wish I had a better way to express how grateful I am, and how much it means to me personally, but this will have to suffice.

And to my family member, if you read this (you know who you are!):  I love you.  I don't care whether you've made mistakes, or how badly you think life sucks right now - and it pretty much does suck right now for you.  All that will go away, but you will always be a part of my family, and I will always love you - no conditions, no strings attached.  None at all.  I'm doing this for you, and I just want you to know that.

End the Stigma

Four years ago a close member of my extended family* was diagnosed with mental illness.

I love this person dearly, and since that time I have wondered what, exactly, I can do to provide support.  I suppose I could have been more proactive about seeking out opportunities, but, well, life's busy.  Not a great excuse, but it's the only one I have.

The time for excuses has come to an end, though.

Just recently I learned about NAMIWalks.  NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) is the largest education, support, and advocacy organization that serves the needs of all those whose lives are touched by mental illness. This includes persons with mental illness, their families, friends, employers, the law enforcement community and policy makers.  NAMIWalks is an opportunity to raise money for the various chapters of NAMI nationwide.

The Walk here in Portland is taking place this year on Sunday, May 22.  As a Mormon, I generally shy away from doing things on Sundays that aren't church-related, but I feel pretty strongly that God doesn't mind me missing church when I'm spending the time instead doing something to support someone I love.

If you feel inclined or inspired to support me in this event, you can go to my walker website, where you will find a safe, easy, and secure way to donate to the cause.  Every little bit helps.

And If you are in or around Portland and are interested in joining me in walking for this cause, I'd love to have some company!  You can find all the information you need on my website, too.  If you are too far from Portland to join me for this event, consider walking in an event that's local to you.  You can find information about all nationwide NAMIWalks events here.

It's time to get rid of the stigma and realize that people with mental illness deserve to be treated just like anyone with any kind of physical illness.  They deserve the respect and support of their communities, and they deserve access to quality and affordable healthcare.

And I'm doing what I can to help out.

Will you help, too?




*If you happen to know this family member, please be respectful of their privacy and do not mention them by name here on the blog.  Thank you!  (And darn that stigma.)

Pure Awesome

I have the two cutest nieces on the planet.  They just "published" a story, which made me laugh until I cried, and which I absolutely have to share with a larger audience.  It is the best thing I have read in a long, long time.

So, without further ado, please redirect yourselves to my sister-in-law Emily's blog, where you can read what she very appropriately described as "a Salvador Dali painting with princesses".  Enjoy.

Color Oblivious

There are people who claim to be color blind when it comes to racial differences – while they still see the color of a person’s skin, it means significantly less to them than what’s on the inside. And there are people who, unfortunately, see nothing but the color of another person’s skin, regardless of what’s on the inside.

My kids are aware of differences in skin color. They get that we all come in different shades. Some of us (me, for example) are so pinky-white we practically glow in the dark, some of us are rich, chocolaty brown, and there's every shade in between. But they have an aunt who is bi-racial and an uncle who is black, so they’ve been around people who look different from them their whole lives. It’s not a big deal in our family. To my kids, skin color is just an accessory, albeit one you can’t remove. They figured out a long time ago that what’s important is what’s inside the skin.

We watch a lot of Dinosaur Train.  It's Ellie's favorite show, but I'm pretty sure the other two really like it as well, even if they'd never admit that.  It’s about the Pteranadon family, who travel the dinosaur world, sometimes through time tunnels, on a train, visiting different species of dinosaur and learning about them. This family consists of Mr. And Mrs. Pteranadon and their four children, Tiny, Shiny, Don, and Buddy. Tiny, Shiny, and Don are Pteranadons, but Buddy is a T-Rex. He was adopted as an egg. We were watching it one morning while we were in Newport, and in this particular episode the family had traveled to visit a family of T-Rexes. Until then, apparently, the Pteranadons weren’t 100% sure what species Buddy was. Mrs. Pteranadon said something like, “Well, Buddy, we adopted you when you were just an egg, so we didn’t know what you’d look like when you hatched, but we knew we’d love you just as much as our other kids.” As they were talking about how all species of dinosaurs look different, but have some similarities, I commented to the girls that in Daddy’s family, Daddy, Emily, Britton, and Blaine were the pteranadons, and Erica and Scotty were the T-rexes.

And Lexi looked at me and said, in all seriousness, “Why?”

You Say it's Your Birthday?

Today is my dad's birthday.  He's turning...a year older ;)

My dad has the weirdest sense of humor.  I love him for it.  And I think I inherited it.  It's because of him that I appreciate Monty Python, and I can never watch The Great Muppet Caper, in particular the part where Miss Piggy is climbing up the side of John Cleese's house, without thinking of him.  Whenever I'm faced with a buffet, I always imagine him quoting Hyacinth Bucket: "Garden party with finger boo-fay", and I laugh.  Thanks, Dad.

This was one of my dad's birthdays.  You can tell because of the obligatory can of Planter's peanuts in the right-hand corner.  In hindsight, that probably isn't the best birthday present year after year, huh, Dad?

When I was little, he would make up silly songs about the things I was doing.  I still remember, "Oh, Allison went down to the beach to play.  She found a crab and she stayed all day."  I'm not sure I ever actually played with a crab on the beach, but the song always made me giggle.  Thanks, Dad.

At my baptism.

Because of my dad, I appreciate a variety of music styles.  Marty Robbins, Air Supply, and Merle Haggard will always be road trip music to me.  But I also learned to enjoy Celine Dion, Clint Black, and Julio Iglesias from my dad.  I'm not necessarily saying I enjoy all those singers now, of course, but without my dad I may never even have known who they were.  Thanks, Dad.

Running a three-legged race at a church picnic.  We made a good team.

My dad is fearless.  When we lived in England, he decided we should become cultured, so he took us on trips to see places like Paris, Rome, Madrid, and Edinburgh.  Imagine the bravery (or possibly insanity...hmmmm...) it takes to drag four unwilling children around Europe.  I never heard him complain about our behavior, even though I'm sure the whining at times would have driven weaker men to drastic measures.  I wish I appreciated those places more when we were there, but at least I can say I've been there, and I have the (very unflattering) pictures to prove it.  Thanks, Dad.

Stonehenge

Paris.  Yes, I'm wearing a fanny pack.

My dad rented this scooter and took each of us kids out for a ride around Rome.  How awesome is that?

I learned to drive in a crash course (ha) while spending a month in the States one summer.  Then we went back to England, where I had to forget most of what I'd learned and start over on the wrong side of the road.  I made my mom incredibly nervous (it was mutual), but my dad was always calm while I was driving, even when I drove right over the top of a mini-roundabout.  I don't know whether I ever told him how much I appreciated his patience, but I sure hope I'm like him when it comes time for the girls to start driving.  Thanks, Dad.

When I went away to college, my dad drove the 4 hours between our home and Rexburg, ID to bring me more stuff.  He also came up to bring me home for breaks and the occasional weekend.  Then he drove me back again when the break was over.  He helped me with my taxes when I got a job, and carted me to and from work because I didn't have a car.  He was always there with advice when I needed help, but he never pushed anything on me.  Thanks, Dad.

Old Faithful, Yellowstone National Park.  This was our last family vacation before I went away to college.

He's an awesome grandpa.  The girls love playing with him.  He likes to tease, and since my kids know how to dish it out, he puts up with their teasing in return.  Thanks, Dad.

My dad has a dog named Riff (pictured above.)  The girls call the dog Uncle Riff.  I'm pretty sure my dad loves this dog more than his own children (but, really, who can blame him?  Riff is a lot cuter and a lot more obedient than we ever were.)  But even though he'd give the dog anything, he's already given me everything a father could.  He taught me about love, and patience, and service, and I appreciate him more now as a parent myself than I ever did when he truly deserved it.  Thanks, Dad.

Happy Birthday today, and here's to a whole bunch more!  Love you!

Saturday Morning

It's Saturday morning around here.

Chris took Vicki to a Daddy-Daughter brunch at the church and I'm here with the other two, supposedly supervising their Saturday jobs.

Right.

What I've actually been doing is discovering a new blog that I may have to add to my list.  She's funny.

Lexi finished her jobs (so she says) and Ellie is supposed to be cleaning the playroom and the upstairs bathroom.  She picked up some pieces of paper, ran the vacuum until I noticed she was actually sucking her clothing into it, and then she disappeared downstairs.  I can hear the TV and the unmistakable sounds of children fending for themselves when they've been abandoned by a mother who is, at the moment, feeling very lazy and significantly more interested in blogs than a clean house.

I like Saturday mornings.

Turns Out I'm Not a Princess

We spent this last weekend in Las Vegas at my little sister's wedding.  The girls were flower girls, complete with poofy dresses and little baskets of rose petals.  And "high heel" shoes.  If you're nine, seven, or four, it was a fairy tale come true.

We had the following conversation tonight at dinner:

Ellie: Grandma and Grandpa are a Queen and King.
Me: Really?  They are?
Ellie: Yep!
Chris: So does that make Mom a princess?
Ellie: No.  Adrie is a princess and James is a prince.  Mom is just Mom.
Chris: But Mom's the mom in our family, and that's even better than a princess, huh?
Ellie: Nope.

Even technology has its weaknesses

I got this email from my brother the other day.  When I read it I knew it was absolutely necessary that I share it with anyone and everyone who happens across this blog.  Hi-larious.  Enjoy.

Our new computer came with the latest version of iPhoto, Apple's photo-sorting application (it's great). One of the new totally cool features is facial recognition. You tag a photo of someone (like in facebook), and then iPhoto can automatically search for more photos of the same person, and you can tell it whether or not it's accurately finding the same face in other photos, and it learns the person's face that way. It makes guesses and you can either confirm or deny it. Then, if you're ever looking for a photo of someone in particular, you can simply look at their face collection. Easy and cool.

Rebecca and I visited Madame Tussauds while on our honeymoon. So, we have lots of celebrity wax figure photos in our iPhoto. I thought it'd be funny to tag the face of one celebrity in particular, so that in the "Faces" section of iPhoto, you see this person's name alongside mine, Rebecca's and the rest of our family/friends.

A few weeks later, I was going through some more photos, tagging them or whatever, and I opened this photo, and here's what I saw:

You'll probably need to click on the photo to enlarge it so you can see it better (I look horrible, so don't even look at me.  I'm not the point of this, anyway.)

Awesome.

What I Did on my Summer Vacation

We interrupt the previously scheduled Random Thoughts Thursday for a more pressing post. Random Thoughts Thursday will return at its regularly scheduled time next week. On Thursday, even.


Here it is: The Alaska Cruise Post. I know you’ve all been waiting with bated breath. Prepare yourselves. You’ve probably noticed by now that I can be a bit wordy, and the more strongly I feel about something, the worse it is. Between the two of us, Chris and I took over 1100 pictures. Even though close to 500 of them are some variation of this:

that’s still a lot of pictures to choose from. And, like my sis-in-law Emily said, God definitely spent a little more time on Alaska. It is gorgeous.

So bear with me, there's a lot to see here. And sorry, it is kind of a travelogue, but that's just how it turned out. Anyway, this introduction will only make the post longer, so let’s just get on with it (you can click on any of the pictures to enlarge them.)

the last sun we'd see for a week

We departed from Seattle on Friday, July 17 and headed for Juneau. The first day (Saturday) was spent entirely at sea, giving a few of us justification for buying those dorky looking Sea-bands. Now that I’m blogging this, there are a lot of things I wish I had pictures of, and 6 pairs of wrists sporting those stylish bands is one of them. Alas.

Moving right along...


We arrived in Juneau Sunday afternoon, and after a quick half-hour tour of downtown (with a population of around 30,000 people, Juneau is Alaska’s 2nd largest city, making the Portland metro area look like Mexico City) we boarded our boat for our whale watching expedition. Whale sightings were guaranteed, or we got a significant refund on the cost of the tour, so I figured we’d see a whale or two surface and I’d be perfectly happy.

Instead we began the trip by watching a mother and baby humpback whale swim side-by-side for half an hour and ended it in a spectacular sighting of three separate pods of 8-12 whales each taking part in what’s known as bubblenet feeding. It was possibly the most amazing thing I have ever seen, and they just kept doing it over and over. The pictures, of course, don’t do justice to the experience. But it was incredible.

mama and baby

whale breath

I think there are at least six different whales in this shot

bubblenet feeding

more bubblenet (see the open mouth on the left?)

feeding frenzy!

On our way back to the ship our bus driver pulled into a parking lot where we got a great view of Mendenhall Glacier, with a gorgeous field of fireweed in the foreground.

the light blue field almost dead center is Mendenhall Glacier

After a day of amazing wildlife sightings, we were next treated to a day of beautiful scenery in Glacier Bay National Park. My little camera doesn’t take anywhere near the pictures my camera-nerd brothers-in-law captured, but I did get a few fairly decent shots. Once again, though, the pictures really don’t do it justice.

Marjorie Glacier

a bit of perspective (the yellow lines near the bottom are kayaks - that's one BIG glacier!)

Check out all the chunks of ice floating in the water - we saw some like that fall off the glacier while we were there. They were a lot bigger than they look here. Titanic, anyone?

another glacier (can't remember this one's name)

but it has a river flowing underneath it, pouring into the sea

This was also the day that we saw a bear. I didn’t get any pictures, though, because you could only tell it was a bear through the binoculars, and even that was after a lot of eye strain. But at least I can say I went to Alaska and saw a bear!

The next day we stopped in Sitka, which is a cute little town with a harbor too small for cruise ships, so we anchored in the bay and were tendered to the dock using the ship’s larger lifeboats.

Look! It's our ship!

St. Michael's Cathedral

Chris and I opted to simply enjoy the town that day (read: we had no money for excursions in this port), so we walked through town (it took 5 minutes) and shopped for souvenirs for the girls and my mom. In the afternoon we met up with everyone else and walked over to the Sitka National Historic Park, which contains a bunch of Tlingit (roughly pronounced “klin kit”) totem poles.

Gandalf?

We discovered that in addition to totem poles, the park is a great place to spot bald eagles. We probably saw at least 15 in the couple of hours we were there. Most of them were too far away for my little point-and-shoot to really get any decent pictures, but this guy was camped out right over a path, and he kindly obliged to turn his head just right while I was shooting.


After Sitka we sailed on to Ketchikan, where Chris and I went separate ways for the morning. He headed off with his dad, Blaine, and Mel to experience fly fishing the Alaskan way. Between the four of them they claim to have caught at least 30 fish, but you know how fishermen are ;)


While they lived the angler’s dream, the rest of us boarded a little yellow floatplane for a tour of the Misty Fjords in Tongass National Park. Absolutely breathtaking. We flew over little lakes and streams accessible only by plane, saw majestic waterfalls and steep basalt cliffs. And then we landed, for “pondering and reflection”, by a tiny island in a mountain lake, from which we could view snow-covered cliffs, waterfalls and even a small (though only compared to what we’d seen before) glacier.

the stylin' headphones totally match my jacket!

I know this probably isn’t as exciting to any one else as it is to me, but bear with me; we’re almost to the end of the trip. And if you haven’t started booking your own Alaskan cruise yet, based on these pictures, well, what are you waiting for? (I highly recommend Holland America Line, by the way.)

Thursday we spent most of the day cruising (and *sob* packing), but that evening we docked in Victoria, British Columbia, where we managed to finagle stamps in our passports from a grouchy customs official and gave ourselves a whirlwind self-guided tour of the city (or at least a very small part of it.) This tour involved various street performers, including my personal favorite (points awarded for creativity):

"See? The Dark Side has good music, too!"

As well as beautiful architecture and a gorgeous sunset:








Then, alas, it was back aboard the ship and time to bid farewell to our home away from home.

ms Zaandam, Holland America Line

Life on a cruise ship is definitely something I could get used to. Apart from the 24-hour-a-day food, which is to die for (and the reason I will be eating next to nothing for the next few weeks), and the variety of activities – lounges, games, pools, entertainers (some fabulously entertaining, like the comic magician and Dale the piano man, and some cheesily sparkly and way, WAY over the top – picture “On My Own” from Les Mis sung by a girl in a glittery gown with a chorus of back up dancers {on my own, huh?}, also in glittery garb. And waving arms. And feathers. Yeah, it was that bad), gym, and spa (which I unfortunately could not afford to visit) – the crew really know how to make you feel at home. Or not at home, because at my house there is certainly no one else who makes the bed each morning, tidies up my room, seats me at the table each evening and places the napkin on my lap for me, anticipates what beverage I would most enjoy, leaves chocolate on my bed, memorizes the faces and names of my entire party, and, last, but by far not least, leaves these entertaining little guys for me each evening:

my personal favorite

We were blessed with a stateroom steward named Anom, who made our day each time he smiled at one of us, called us by name, and asked how we were doing, and two fabulous servers in the dining room named Shandy and Ariana, who really knew how to make us feel special each and every night. Plus the other fabulous crew members, even including Cruise Director Michael, who we lovingly nicknamed “Guy Smiley”, and whose announcements of “today’s fabulous entertainment aboard the ms Zaandam” always ended with “see you out...and about!”

And did you know cruising is not only a relaxing experience, but also an educational one? For instance, you learn that your loved ones look fabulous in orange:


Also, that you can, in fact, see Russia from your house (or cruise ship):


Okay, not really. We just couldn’t resist. But we did learn that while totem poles may tell a story, some stories might just be better left untold:


Unfortunately, like all good things, the cruise came to an end, and since there was no hope of stowing away unnoticed anywhere aboard the ship, Friday morning we disembarked back in Seattle. After bidding farewell to Chris’s family the two of us took a cab to our hotel near downtown. During our two days in Seattle we must have walked at least 10 miles: through the fascinating SAM Sculpture Garden, across the Seattle Center two or three times, all over Pike Place Market and the surrounding areas, into the heart of downtown and back out, and around the a single block several times in search of a restaurant that appealed to us after walking all that way (note for future reference: the big yellow building with huge letters spelling “Mediterranean” running down the side is not a place to eat, but, in fact, an apartment building. Bummer.) We settled on a yummy Indian restaurant called Roti where we enjoyed a pomegranate chicken curry. Just in case anyone wondered.

"Eagle" and the Space Needle

By the time we were in Seattle, we were tired of taking pictures, so this is pretty much it. And we were ready to see our girls again.

Check out the homecoming they gave us:

do the Hula!

Apparently they had been planning a luau all week long, with decorations, dancing, and a Hawaiian-themed meal. I do have to say, I think their entertainment was far superior to the “Zaandam Singers & Dancers” and all their sparkly smiles.

It’s good to be home.

Only 49 days until our next vacation!