Show What You Know

Every Wednesday at the boys’ school, one grade is invited to show what they know – what they have recently learned. Basically, it’s reciting a poem or singing a song or something like that. Here are the boys’ classes singing the Christopher Columbus song as well as the Seven Continents and something else. Unfortunately, they were seated on separate sides of the group, and all of the parents were at the back of the gym. Therefore, pictures are basically awful, but who could pass up something so sweet? Peanut is second from the left on the top row, and Meatball is on the right side of the top row next to the girl with the black hair (that's August, and he has a crush on her).

The Old Gang

And, by “old,” I mean MY AGE, not Bub’s. Bwah-ha-ha-ha!

At the end of November, we had a chance to get a bunch of friends together – some hadn’t seen each other for about 20 years. Things sure have changed.

Pre-teens were in attendance with people whom I once knew as teenagers. Babies (the grandbaby of two of those once-teens, for heaven’s sake), pre-schoolers, new loves, old flames, high school buddies, bar pals, new friends, and great food. It was an awesome night.

We were originally slated to host this little shin-dig, but Bub was sick for the whole week leading up to it. The choice was made to move the venue – last minute – to Mer’s house. Bless her – she did an awesome job – and bless her sweetheart who had just had foot surgery a few days before. I was waiting the entire time for someone to smack into her poor foot, but everyone (even the little people) managed to avoid it. Whew!

Friends were in attendance from Phoenix and Chowchilla and here in the valley for a pre-Thanksgiving feast. We brought the turkey (my first - brined, even!) and a delish cheesecake (because everything Bub does is yummy). Everything was pot-luck, and it was an awesome spread. Even Leen’s dessert mistake was fantastic! (Dessert mistake? That’s what you get when you follow two different recipes. Like Rachel’s trifle on that episode of Friends, but without the beef and peas…)

The kids had a BLAST. For the most part, there was always someone similar in age, so everyone had someone to play with.

It’s too bad that O. had to leave early because I think that she and S. could have had a beauty contest. And, regardless of what Vasey. says, S. didn’t display one moment of diva-ness.

Electronics for the bigger kids, of course.

Trains and kittens were also big hits.

Since Mer doesn’t have kids, she was worried about having enough for them to do, so I made sure that the kids could sufficiently destroy the kitchen floor by baking some cherry cupcakes, making frosting, and providing sprinkles. I’m guessing that the hostesses were sweeping up sprinkles for days.

The grownups sat around and laughed about the “good old days.” I’m only 42. How is it possible that I even use that phrase? There were a couple of tears choked back when we talked about the loss of baby A. There were good natured arguments about what really happened on that 3-wheeler at Flaming Gorge. There were introductions of some newbies and the ensuing welcoming of them into our lives. There were questions about who/what/where/when/why/how with Jod, Di, Sweets, Cass, Bren, TC, Chandler, and so many more. We missed those girls who couldn’t be there, but we held them in our hearts and only made fun of them a little bit. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

We were once such a close knit group. My girlfriend (at the time) and I used to spend almost every evening with at least two of these wonderful then-girls-now-women. Never did I think that some of us would be parents (Beck, Jod). Never did I think that one of us would eat meat ever again (Di). I always knew that some of us would be parents, and it’s so fun to see that play out – although not always in the ways that we expected.

We talked about the loves that we have had over the years. We commiserated over the losses that we have endured – of friends, of parents, of pets, of relationships, of jobs. We talked about the various times when some of us have felt like we’re going hyena-laughing, straight-jacket, bat-shit crazy. We swapped birthing stories. We bragged about our kids. We told stories of Vegas, and Mt. Pleasant, and the apartments on 13th, and Alaska, and the house off of 33rd, and Arizona. We talked about work and shared experiences of being a police officer, a librarian, a truck driver, a process manager, a cook, a mechanic, a computer geek. We looked at old photo albums and wondered how the hell we got so old because, honestly, none of us FEEL that old….

Seriously, we can’t possibly be that old, can we?

They don’t understand some of my decisions, and in fact, some have been very vocal about the mistakes that they feel I have made or (they feel) am still making. In all honesty, I don’t understand every choice that each of them has made, either. Whether it’s to take back someone who abused or cheated, or the best way to end a relationship, or a career change, or some parenting decisions, or you-seriously-wore-that-shirt-on-purpose… The thing is, I don’t HAVE to understand all of that stuff to love these women (and John) with all of my heart. They have always been there for me, and if I needed anything I would be hard pressed to choose whether to call on them or a blood relative.

I adore them.

These women shaped my life in ways that I can never explain, and I will never be able to repay them for the friendship that they showed to me 20+ years ago and still show to me today. They helped me muster up the courage to come out to my family. They saw me through a rocky relationship. They almost got me arrested for sharing my pitcher of beer at the bowling alley. They gave advice on carrying twins. They danced and sang and partied with me. They cried with me. They cried because of me. They supported me. They cleaned up me up after I partied too hard. They made mistakes that hurt me. They made amends. They shared their food, their cars (literally), their good and bad fortune. They welcomed me and accepted me when others did not.

They loved me. We loved each other.

We still do.

CHRISTMAS LETTERS TO SANTA

For the first time ever, the boys did all of the writing of their letters to Santa. We wouldn’t spell anything for them, but we did help them sound out the words. They typed their letters and printed them from their computers. Then, they addressed and stamped the envelopes themselves.

Noth Pool
And
North Pol
Close enough.

The next day, Bub took them to place their letters in the big blue mail bins at the local post office. (Do they look proud of their letters, or what? Well, maybe excited? One thing I know for sure, **I** am proud!)

I’m sure that Santa received these letters because they were definitely spoiled on Christmas morning!

November sunset

Yes - I realize that it is now January, but I was busy....
I'm just now getting around to loads of stuff that happened in November and December.
I saw this on the way home from work one night. It was 1000x prettier than what my phone captured, but you understand....

FRONTRUNNER SOUTH

A few people know that the Peanut lives for trains. OK – everyone he meets on the street knows that he lives for trains. He’s obsessed with them. He could play trains 24 hours a day if we let him. So, when the south branch of the Frontrunner commuter train opened up, Grandpa made sure that we took a ride. Of course, it was the middle of the day on opening day which means that it was PACKED, but we still managed to find one seat next to a window. We spent the next hour checking out the scenery from Murray to Lehi. Peanut was in heaven.

Here they are with Bub checking out how FAST we were going (up to 85mph!) and looking for "the farm."

Here's Bub and grandpa looking at "the farm" on the return trip. This was where Bub grew up from age 12. It was an awesome place out in Bluffdale - lots of acreage and space. As a kid, it was kind of lonely. As a teen, it was a good place to have a party and skip school. As a grown up, we sure wish we could have bought it from grandpas instead of him selling it to someone else when the upkeep became too much.

I think grandpa misses it. Bub definitely does. Granny definitely does NOT.

HOLIDAY CARD FROM AN ADORABLE BOY

Seriously, how is it possible to be so damn cute?

This is a holiday card given to us from Meatball. It’s a holiday card that he created on his computer, and it’s a “holiday” card in the truest sense of the word. The cover (not seen here) shows a menorah. His message refers to Christmas, and the printed greeting on the card references Kwanzaa.

Yeah – we try to keep them well-rounded.

Here’s his message to his moms (verbatim):

To mom’s
[heart] Sam
Hav
A mary
Cristmis
[heart] for
ever

Oh my gosh. Couldn’t you just squeeze him until your own heart melted from the adorable-ness?

Yeah. Me too.

Thanksgiving 2012 in pictures

As usual, we spent Thanksgiving at Granny and Grandpa’s house. When we do this, we spend the entire day – not just the meal – so that Bub can “help” make the meal now that her parents are in their late 70s. It was a true feast all day long, and we were all stuffed by the end of the day. However, getting TO dinnertime takes a lot of time and patience, and this is not something that five year olds excel at doing quietly or calmly. So, we surfed the web, we played trains (big surprise), and we had to get out of the house.

After I found some easy kid’s crafts, we went on a hunt looking for just the right leaves, sticks, and anything else we could use to make something cool. Or something fun. Or, something that would just keep us from getting yelled at. We actually had a lot of fun looking for stuff since by this time of year any decent looking leaves were pretty scarce, and we had no idea which craft we were going to do.

We decided to do these little place holders with mini paper cups, brown paper, and scavenged items from the great outdoors. Fun, right?

Then, it snowed just a skiff, and Peanut really, really, wanted to play his trains in the snow. So, we got all bundled up, dragged some track and trains outside, and played for about 3 minutes and 15 seconds before he realized that water makes metal rust and he wasn’t about to let anything happen to his die cast little train characters. So, after three whole minutes, we were back inside and making a track mess all over granny’s front room.

Meatball, on the other hand, spent some quality time writing messages... in Japanese... can't you tell?

Of course, I wanted to have a cute picture of them together. This is what I got. (Cute, yes. Usable, no.)

Finally, there was one that was almost decent. Well, it was the best of the 15...

But, how thankful am I for these guys?
There are no words.