An angel gets her wings.

When Emma and Leah turned 8 years old, we got them a white, long-haired guinea pig.  They named her Angel.  She lived in their bedroom and was their beloved pet.  They held her while they did homework or read, they bathed her and kept her cage clean.  They fed her vegetables every night and hay every morning, and typed up long, detailed instructions for anyone who might be taking care of her while we were on vacation.  She was affectionately called "Aingey" or "the good girl" or "the rat" (the last name was from Glenn, which was typically followed by "She's not a rat!").

Angel kept Emma and Leah good company for over 6 years, and really during that time we didn't have any problems with her health.  Until one Sunday morning in September...

I was already at church and had asked Glenn to run home to get some food to put in the kitchen.  Sacrament Meeting was about to start and only Brooke had arrived.  I thought to look at my phone at the last minute, thinking that maybe there was a problem with the food.  There was a text saying that Angel had died.  I gasped and bolted out of the chapel to run home to see what had happened.

As I ran out into the parking lot, I saw Glenn, Andrew, Emma and Leah approaching.  I ran to them and gathered them in a big bear hug.  We all were crying.  I was so sad for Emma and Leah, it just broke my heart to see them so upset.  It was hard to get through the meeting.  Lots and lots of tears.  (Side note: the missionary who was speaking kept talking about angels during his talk...we tried to laugh, but it was hard.)

I asked the girls what they wanted to do after Sacrament...did they want to go home or go to class?  They decided to go to class, but I know it was hard for them.

So after church we decided to have a little memorial service.  The kids got together and decorated a shoe box for Angel.  Then they all wrote letters to her and they put them inside.  We also found some pictures of her and made a little collage.  I think it was helpful for the kids.

The kids wanted to bury her out by the back fence, since she tried to escape through it a couple times.  It ended up that the whole family gathered in the backyard to remember Angel, even Jill and her kids had just gotten out of church and came across the street.  It was one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed...and while one the one hand it felt so silly to be so upset over a little guinea pig, my heart just broke for my children who were so so sad.

None of the kids wanted to say anything, so Glenn volunteered to give the eulogy.  I love how he said that the girls took such good care of her for so long, and that Angel must have known that now that they are older they would be so much more busy, and that it was the right time for her to go.  It was so touching to see him start to cry, and in fact, I have never seen him cry so much over anything before.  The only one who was dry-eyed was Callie, who had no idea what was going on.

So we laid our dear Angel to rest, and we've finally been able to move on.  The girls would tell me that for a while afterwards they'd still cry when they'd think about Angel being gone.  They took a long time to clean out the drawers that held her food and other equipment, and her empty cage is still down in the basement.  But we are grateful for the good years we had with her, and I am grateful for the love and joy she gave to the children.

The things we learn...

So it turns out that high school cross country is a lot different from junior high cross country.  Who knew that there would be a coach who coached, that there would be real work outs, that there would be so many fun things like spaghetti dinners and cheers and secret pals and dressing up like the coach to promote team unity, that the girls would really be training for their meets, that they would see so much improvement in their times?

One thing that didn't change?  THE MUD.

Twelve.

In case anyone wasn't paying attention for several months leading up to September 1, Brooke was having a birthday.  She was turning 12, and reminded us at every opportunity.  She had everything planned for quite some time.  I know this comes as a big surprise, but Brooke was VERY excited for her birthday, and to turn 12, graduate from Primary and enter the Young Women's program.  Boy was she ever ready.

Brooke had a little sleep over with her friends.  She was ecstatic to receive a One Direction t-shirt...her latest (and probably longest lasting) obsession.

We found a whole bunch of Dr. Seuss paraphernalia in the Dollar Spot at Target, so we decided to continue the theme for the party.  I made some fun Thing 1 cupcakes that looked awesome right after they were made, but I didn't realize the cotton candy would die on top overnight.

Brooke has settled comfortably into the world of Young Women's and has now started talking about going to dances.  WHEN SHE TURNS 14.  This girls is always ready for the next step...and never looks back.  We love our dramatic, passionate Brooke!

Did that really just happen?

Have I actually understood?

You mean my parents are moving here?  To Cleveland?  You've got to be kidding me.

However, I received several texts of my mom, Teddy, and a huge yellow moving truck from various cities across the country, so it must be true.

But I still can't believe it's really happening. 

I never, EVER, thought it would, but the stars seemed to align, and here they are.

 

They sold their house, packed up their lives into a truck, and said goodbye to people they've known and loved for almost 40 years.  I know that was no small sacrifice.  They left nice weather, a lovely home, a city they know like the back of their hand, the grocery outlet, and extremely cheap produce. 

Teddy is happy to get belly rubs whenever his heart desires.

In the months that they've been here, they have jumped into the daily routine of our lives with both feet.  I don't think they realized what energy it takes to get these 9 grandkids to school or activities or church.  They may have underestimated the number of concerts, games, recitals, and performances there would be to attend.  I have to applaud how well they keep the schedules straight and the energy they have to give.

It had to be very hard to leave the ward they have been attending for so long.  They have served so diligently for so long.  And it's always a little awkward to start fresh, especially out here where things are o much more spread out.  But for me, someone who has been away from home for twenty years, it is such a blessing to witness firsthand as an adult my parents serving in the church.  Here is another area where they have jumped right in, even though I know it was hard.  They are such perfect examples of service and love, and to see it and be a part of it is just amazing to me.

All those years ago, when this California girl decided to marry a boy from Cleveland, Ohio, I would have laughed in your face if you told me that someday I'd have most of my family living within 10 minutes of me, that my kids would see both grandmas walking the neighborhood together, that they would see most of their cousins on at least a weekly basis.  It really is a miracle to me, one I don't take lightly.

So {I hope} it will be for the rest of my life...and I'll want nothing else till I die...

Campaign stop.

We first heard about the campaign stop on Facebook.  Which is, of course, where you first hear about all good things.  Mitt Romney himself was coming to Avon Lake High School and I wanted to go.  Glenn and Mom and Dad were in too, and we easily signed up for tickets.  We foolishly thought that the weather would keep people away and that we would be able to just saunter up to the metal detectors and find ourselves a nice place to sit on the gym bleachers.  Yeah, no.  The school parking lot and surrounding neighborhood streets were full.  We had to walk a half mile through the wind and rain to get to the gym, only to discover that the line wound itself around the common room and right back outside the other side of the building.  Mom and Dad were none too keen on standing out in the elements for who knows how long, but I was willing to brave the elements for the chance to see Mitt.  The line was long, and kept getting longer, but it actually moved pretty quickly.  So quickly in fact, that by the time Glenn realized we were inside in line he had to literally run to catch up with us right as we got to the metal detectors.

After we were inside, we discovered that the main gym where Mitt would be speaking was at capacity and we were being herded to the auxiliary gym.  We all looked at each other, wondering what the point of being stuffed into this room was, when suddenly some guy got up and explained that Mitt would be passing through to say a few words to us on his way to give his speech, which we would then be able to hear from the other gym.  So we'd get to see him after all!  We decided to stay.  After a quick trip to the Port-a-Potties for me and Dad, we positioned ourselves near an exit about five people back from the barricade.

And then we waited.  Waited for an invocation, the National Anthem, the Pledge of Allegiance.  Waited for local politicians to say their piece.  Waited for a Cleveland Browns player to lend his support.  Waited for the yappers in front of me to stop talking.  Waited for the tall guy in the front row to move his head so I could get a good picture.  Waited for friends of the yapper in front of me try to squeeze their way in next to us (it didn't work).  Waited for the media to line themselves up.  And then, finally!  Here came Mitt!

I have been on board with his positions and proposals for a while now, but today I really got on board with him as a person.  I immediately fell in love.  He's good looking and Presidential.  He's confident and has convictions.  He thoughtfully asked that we remember those who would be affected by Hurricane Sandy by making a donation to the Red Cross.  And even though the auxiliary gym was not his ultimate destination, he took the time to shake hands with those of us who were close enough to reach him (not me, unfortunately).  Yes, I understand he is a politician running for a Very Big Office.  He is trained in the art of trying to make people like him.

Well, I fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Let me rephrase that.  I don't think I've fallen for anything.  I've done my research and have weighed my election options.  I'm supporting Mitt because I like what he's offering and he's got a great track record.  But it was a thrill to see in person that the candidate I will be voting for was as dynamic and compelling as I wanted him to be.

We didn't stay to listen to his speech from the other gym.  We did, however, leave out a door we were not supposed to and got reprimanded by an authoritative man in fatigues with various weapons attached to him.

I made the brisk walk back to the car on a total high, trying hard to hold back some tears.  It was a true rock star/celebrity moment for me.  What an awesome, unforgettable experience to see up close someone who by next week could be the leader of the Free World.

On the bandwagon.

Something has come over me.  If you had told me back in high school that I'd be like this, I would have laughed in your face.  Me, a band geek?  Never!  I out in my one year to cover my Fine Arts requirement and then I high-tailed it out of that wing of my high school for good and never looked back.

Well, look at me now.  Here I am with two high school children of my very own who happen to be in the marching band.  Only this isn't just ANY marching band...this is "The Pride of Westlake" (as we are reminded in Kermit the Frog style every time they take the field).  My high school band was nowhere near being the Pride of Anything, let alone the whole city.

But the Westlake Demons Marching Band so deserves that title.   They are indeed something to be proud of.  And here are the reasons why I love it:

1. My kids are in it.  And I have a tendency (as I am sure most parents do) to love the activities their kids are involved in.  I'm not necessarily a big fan of cage fighting, but if I had a kid in the ring, you can bet I'd be in the front row (praying for his/her life).

2. The band is good.  I mean like professional good.  (Are there professional marching bands? Because if so, this band could be one.)  The talent that comes from those 180 or so kids is amazing.  Their version of Sgt. Peppers never ceases to amaze me.

3.  All the music is memorized.  I remember the little cheat sheet thingys we attached to our instruments.  Well there is none of that here.  On the field, in the stands--the kids know every note by heart.  Or at least enough of them do to cover nicely for those who don't.

4.  The kids are well-disciplined.  They march into the stadium from all the way in front of the school.  They stand in formation as they walk onto and off of the field.  They stand at attention (at least it seems that way from the stands) at one end of the field while the opposing band performs.  They sit attentively and precisely in the stands during a marching band festival, while the other bands are wandering all over and shouting.  I love the precision, the structure, the exactness that is expected of these kids.

5.  They have a great color guard and kick line.  Again, the precision from the flag corps is admirable.  They are sharp and in unison.  The kick line kicks high.  It adds a great look to the great sound.

6.  The band does not rely on gimmicks.  Other bands do silly dances or play electric instruments or have their percussion on the sidelines.  Our band director is a purist.  They march on, perform a standard (yet exceptional) routine, and march on.  They don't wander on or off.  They hold their instruments the whole time.  They don't make formations in the shape of bananas or a bunch of grapes (yes, one band supposedly did this--we couldn't see it).  It's just marching and music, pure and simple.

7.  It is actually cool to be in the band.  There's nothing to be ashamed of.

So as you can see, I love our band.  Even when I am so frustrated by a crowded band potluck where I literally stood in the corner by myself because I knew absolutely no one trying to eat a stuffed pepper with one hand and vow to not come back until the girls are seniors...I get so happy when I hear that cadence start and I see the band start their procession.  I've sat out in the rain and cold to see those kids and it's always so worth it.  I'm so glad my kids are loving it enough that I will have three more years to cheer like an idiot

So go ahead.  Call me what you want...band nerd, band geek, band-o.  I've become a band groupie, and I'm proud of it!

Anything's possible.

Brooke was involved with the Fairview Park Fine Arts and Theater Association's summer production again this year.  Now last year's show was good.  It was fun to see Brooke on stage in several different roles.  But there were parts that were rough.  Many parts.  So this year when they decided to put on "Suessical the Musical" I was cautiously optimistic, but honestly my expectations were low.

Brooke was cast to be Thing One, with her best FPFATA friend as Thing Two.  Since the two of them were on stage a lot, they had to be at most of the rehearsals.  It was long hours, but Brooke was having fun and handling the accompanying fatigue much better than last year.  She would come home and tell me how good things were going, how there was one new girl who was such a good singer.  I didn't really pay attention at the time.

Soon enough it was show time.  I missed a performance because of youth conference and was anxious to get to a performance.  I didn't really know what to expect, especially since I was not familiar with the play at all.  And then, the lights went up.

There are not enough words to describe what I saw up there on that stage.  It was incredible.  Incredibly amazing.  From the set, to the staging, to the singing, to the costumes, to the songs...it was pure joy from start to finish.  Brooke and her friend ran around causing trouble just as whey should.  The Cat in the Hat was hilarious.  Gertrude was sweet.  Horton was loyal and innocent.  The Sour Kangaroo (played by the "new girl") had a great voice.  The Bird Girls were in perfect harmony.  JoJo was endearing.  I could go on and on.  I was blown away by the performance those kids gave.

For the closing show I got to help out backstage.  It was so much fun to see everything run like clockwork.  The kids all knew where to be and when to be there.  They had so much fun together.  I loved seeing the little warm ups and team building they did before going onstage.  And it was fun to get some pictures from the wings.

Brooke also had great support from her family and friends.  Stephen was in town and was able to go!  And her Activity Day's leader, with whom Brooke has a special bond, came with a gift in tow,  She made a small Dr. Suess quilt for Brooke's castmates to sign.  It was so cute and so thoughtful.  A couple of her school friends came as well.

I am so proud of the hard work everyone put into the show.  It really paid off.  I told the director she has set the bar high.  I am not sure how they are going to top this one.  I'm so glad Brooke has had the opportunity to be a part of this great group.

We're going back to the start.

A post inspired by photos I thought were lost forever to a dead computer but were somehow miraculously recovered...

It seems contradictory, that the end of the school year would be a beginning.  But looking back now,
all the craziness in those last few weeks was a sign of how chaotic life would become.

We had four kids moving on from three different schools.  So that meant parties and celebrations galore.  Andrew and the other 4th graders celebrated with a bowling party.  Then we had a shindig at the school where there were lots of certificates handed out and the kids sang a fun song (where Andrew was in the back row and I couldn't see him at all) and there was punch and cookies afterwards.  It was great to see Andrew have fun with all his friends--they are all a great group of kids.  We had a good run at this elementary school.  For nine years we had kids attending there, and one year all four of them went together.  So I got a little sentimental, but it's hard to want to linger in a place your child is so ready to leave.  Andrew loved being the BMOC last year but I could tell it had run its course.  Still we are grateful for the wonderful, positive experiences we had at that school and the strong foundation it gave each one of our kids.

Brooke moved on from her short two-year stint at the intermediate school.  Again, there was a party--a luau to be exact.  Brooke hula-ed it up with her friends as any soon-to-be 7th grader would.  And again, there was a formal recognition ceremony, which consisted of some 12 year olds talking about how they learned not to bully (because really there was SO much bullying going on before) and how their two years here were the best two years of their (very short) lives.

Emma and Leah left junior high behind.  The big excitement was finding graduation dresses.  Modest ones.  Two of them.  Nearly impossible.  But very worth the effort, as Emma and Leah looked beautiful amongst girls dressed in dresses that had less fabric than a bath towel.  Strapless, way above the knees, and then add a  pair of high heels and unfortunately the term "street walker" came to mind a couple times.  Surprisingly, I was probably the most sentimental at this celebration.  Overall, the girls had a GREAT junior high experience, which is pretty uncommon.  The "teams" they are on at the school do a great job of having unity-building activities that mix in with the educational side of things.  They made some great memories and friends, and I was feeling grateful that the past two years had gone so well.  And then there was the fact that I'd have two kids in high school in a matter of weeks.

So we enjoyed celebrating our kids' achievements and advancements.  But who knew that the fury of those last few weeks of school was just a small dose of what lie ahead...

T-minus seven days.

And just like that, summer is over.  Ten weeks gone in the blink of an eye.

If you had asked me on June 6th, I would have naively told you that summer would be a break from the craziness of the school year.  After school is out, I'll have time to relax/get organized/get something accomplished/breathe.  Yeah right.

When I look back on this summer, I will remember how it was all about the kids.  Which really is how it usually is and how it should be.  But this time around the activities were much more involved and time intensive.  It was over, under, and all around me.

(There was my highly celebrated birthday week, but even that was not immune.)

The first half of the summer was peppered with baseball game after baseball game.  Every other night we sat at the ballpark, cousins chasing after each other and shyly admiring Andrew, trying to ignore the sweltering heat, cheering on a brand-new pitcher. Then came Girl's Camp, that hotter-than-hot (yet still not the hottest) week that left me with the realization that I actually enjoyed myself...and also with a back injury that would last six weeks.

Then there were the weeks when I had a driver's seat permanently under my derriere.  Back and forth, back and forth, here and there, and back again.  Safety Town, swim lessons, theater camp, cross country practice, rehearsal.  And don't forget the occasional doctor's appointment, a couple of trips to the chiropractor, and weekly allergy shots.

It's all so tedious.  You feel like a taxi driver, only without the tips.  You do it for the kids, knowing full well that they have no idea how much goes in to coordinating, to rounding up, to keeping the gas tank filled.  But every once in a while you get a little something back.  But when you see your children grow, improve, succeed, and thrive, you know it is all worth it. 

I saw Emma and Leah feel the Spirit, strengthen their testimonies, step outside of their boxes, try new things.  I watched them associate with other kids who are like they are: good, kind, pure, strong.  It was an honor for me to catch the small glimpse I did.  I saw Brooke pour her natural exuberance into an impressive theatrical production.  I saw her confidence with her cast mates, with her cue times, with her part.  I was introduced to a heartwarming and clever musical that was unbelievably well-performed. 

The frenzy of summer activities and the buzz of conferences and plays have now devolved into a madness of orientations, band practice, school shopping, and last minute doctor's appointments.  The late Olympic-watching nights turn into sleepy mornings.  We feel the first day looming large before us.  A lesser-experienced person might be fooled into thinking that starting school will stop the insanity.  But not I. 

School starts in one week.  But I am smart enough to know that the insanity never ends.

Patriotism in two acts.

***ACT I***

To celebrate on July 2nd we traveled downtown, waited for a long time in pleasant weather, ate snacks, watched the kids dance and play, listened to music from the Cleveland Orchestra, worried that we'd get wet from the sprinklers, and watched a disappointing 5ish minutes worth of piddly fireworks.

***INTERMISSION***

July 4th. 8:30am. Ward breakfast at Clague Park. Very very hot. Ward members marching in parade. Bad back allows me to sit the mile walk out.  Plans to head to the beach are scrapped due to heat advisory.  The only thing left to do is sit in a (semi)cool movie theater and watch an awesome movie (Brave).

 ***ACT II***

To celebrate on July 4th we traveled to Clague Park, waited for a long time in unbearably horribly hot weather, ate snacks, watched the kids dance and play, listened to music from DJ Easy, worried that we'd get wet from the threatening storm clouds that passed overhead, and watched an amazing half-hourish long fireworks that were actually worthy of the holiday.

***END SCENE***

A word about Scouts.

If I ever wonder why I have been blessed with three girls and only one boy, I just think about Scouts and I understand.  I really do not like Scouting.  And I am fine with this.  I will make encourage my son to pass off requirements, I will support various Scouting activities with my attendance, I will do my best to see that my son earn his Eagle award, and I may even make a financial contribution here and there.  But deep down inside, it just is not my favorite thing.  A week at Girl's Camp was such a good trade off to avoid having to help just one day at Cub Scout Day Camp.

There are people out there who love Scouts and feel passionately about it.  I am so grateful for people like that, because I know that once we transition to Boy Scouts, my power to sign off requirements is stripped.  I will rely on and give thanks for those devotees to help my son advance. 

Having said all that, I am proud of Andrew for earning his Webelos badge and a whole slew of other awards at this month's pack meeting.  He needed some prodding and cajoling and maybe a firm word here and there, but he worked hard to get things done.  He is a good example to others and a good example of what a Scout should be.  If there is any program that I'd want my one boy to be a part of, it is the Scouting program.

But that doesn't mean that there won't be massive celebrating when it's all said and done.  By me.