Liam got his first report card of straight A's for all 10 subjects.  I asked him this week what he wanted to study when he gets to college and he rolled his eyes and said "Mom, I'm in kindergarten. I'm working on it!"

 :) He's got a point.I'll let him enjoy kindergarten and we'll talk colleges later.

He is in a class with all minorities and so when he draws people he always uses the brown colors. His drawing books have cute little black babies and families. He was telling us about a time where he was drawing himself and "used a brown crayon 'cause that's what all the other kids were using. . .  I guess maybe next time I should use the pink instead." We told him he could use whatever crayon he wanted. 

Then he said "Kids don't choose, they are just the same color as their mom and dad, huh?" and it was both endearing and interesting to hear his kindergarten understanding of race.

Elsie is an independent soul. She can't be inhibited by things like car seats, clothes, and bedtimes.  She can't pass a piece of paper with out drawing it- an apple, a worm, a "blast off," a big fish-filled wave.  She insists on coordinating her clothes herself and if they aren't at least partially pink they always seem to get stripped off after a while.  She refers to herself as "baby dragon" and to the rest of us as "Mommy, Daddy and Yum Dragon." Her favorite thing to play is "dark tave" where we all hide under blankets pretending we're living in ancient caves full of dragon gold and living off 'dragon berries.' When she gets excited she yells "Dippy!! Dippy" (instead of yippee!)

She rides her scooter to pick up Liam from the bus stop everyday.  While she does this she sings a theme song for herself to the tune of "Diego" and says "Go, Elsie Go! Go Elsie Go! . . . To the rescue my friend!"

 

 

 Elsie has a soft spot for animals. Today she found a spider in the house and when Brady went to get it she yelled " Daddy, Be nice!!" and made sure the spider made a safe exit outside.

 Despite having no pets, we always have a stock of dog bones.  Everyday on the way home we stop by the neighbors house so Elsie can say hi to "my dog Bruce."  They have a cute through-the-fence relationship. She collects sticks and grass for him, she brings him a bone, and he lets her pet his nose, ears, and paws.

a day in the life

I had an orchestra concert this past weekend and the kids came to cheer me on. We have all been sick with a cold and I have been basically debilitated this past week.  At the concert I had to stop in the middle of a 20 minute song to cough, and grab a drink of water and a cough drop. My house has been crazy with laundry spewed everywhere, crayons on the floor, and the kids are living off PBJs and juice boxes- oh well.

Elsie cracks me up. We go swimming every week after I teach a spin class at the YMCA and every time I'd say "good job!" while she was swimming she'd respond "The mermaids showed me how"- as if everything she knows about swimming she learned from The Little Mermaid.

When we went to the park the other day she'd say "Look Mom! Am I falling?!" and then she'd answer her own question, "Nope, I'm not falling. I'm not falling I'm doing just right!" as a way to point out just how tricky she is.  When she goes to the park she likes to crawl through tunnels which she calls her "dark tave," where dragons live. 

a surprise airport visit

Nana and Papa were in Boston for a medical conference and we were lucky enough to see them on a D.C. layover. We told the kids we were going to go to the airport just to hang out. They said they only wanted to go to the airport if they could go see their grandparents from either Utah or Alaska.  As luck would have it, Nana and Papa showed up.  It was delightful reunion as always full of big hugs, jokes, a few tricks, treats, and good times.

 This past weekend Brady's sister Janell and her boyfriend Ben were here and we had a great time playing around D.C.. We don't see them near enough so it was nice to catch up. The highlight was a lively Renaissance Festival full of jousting, knife juggling, singing pirates with cleavagey women, turkey legs, and pony rides.  

Strength from Good Stock

  I'm sporting fake eyelashes in this photo, along with some of the girls in my extended family, in honor of my great-grandma Hilda's 100th birthday anniversary.  The eyelashes were a trademark of hers, she was a hair stylist.

   

Great-Grandma Hilda is legendary in our family. I feel a little guilty about picking a favorite ancestor, but she takes the cake.  I always loved hearing stories about her from my mother. During a time when public segregation and persecution of minorities was still accepted, she befriended and advocated for the Navajo Indians in her community. When none of the other stylists would cut their hair, she welcomed them with open arms. I'm thankful to have roots like that.

If I bumped into great-grandma Hilda at the entrance of the pearly gates I'm not sure she would recognize me from anyone else's great- grandkid.  The only photograph I have with her is grainy and yellowed. In it I am a chubby, jowly, baby and I am too young hold up my own head or realize her importance.  Despite this, I feel like I do know her.  I grew up listening to stories from my mother and father how soft-hearted but tough, how respected, how wonderful she was.  My first memory of my mother crying was after her death, I was 5 or 6 years old. My mother took my little brother Justin to go to her funeral and came back with a box full of dress up clothes for my sister and I. It was all gawdy stuff- clip on earrings that made our ears hurt and musky, perfumed, dresses and hats but it made us feel like she had just given us a present.

There is something about knowing you came from good stock that is empowering. There is motivation to be found in the stories of our family histories. I'd like to think that there are maybe even good parts of me that came from her. 

This weekend we attended the grand opening of a new exhibit at the zoo and celebrated the addition of wolves, seals, otters, and beavers. Here Elsie is pictured eating a banana, which she was calling her "monkey food." Also pictured is a pink bird which she pointed to and said "That's mine! It's pink" as if she 'gets dibs' on anything pink.

Elsie misses Liam when he's at school. She gives a good pouty face everyday as he waves goodbye and walks towards his class. That said, it's been good to spend more one on one time with her. She's been nailing down counting to 20, she's been voraciously reading 6-7 books a day, and she has enjoyed the extra attention.  She still has her pink fetish- her mermaid sister she calls "pinkie prize," her pinky blankie, pink baby, pinky egg, pink milk, pink dress. . . . but now she has a new favorite thing- dragons.  She likes playing imganiary pink baby dragon, she watches a show "Dragon land," her favorite books are dragon books, and she walks around reciting a little dragon poem- which makes us melt.  Considering her girliness it  seems out of place, which makes it even more endearing. 

The Good Fruits of Lance Armstrong

 

This week Lance Armstrong  was stripped of his 7 Tour De France titles and banned from his sport, and it feels like somebody died. It’s the same sting you feel when a long forgotten friend passes- it’s nothing personal or life- altering but somehow, the world feels subtly dimmed. He never admitted to the doping charges and both sides of the argument will still continue to think what they want.  He did assume guilt though by dropping his challenge to U.S. Anti-Doping Agency allegations that he used performance-enhancing drugs saying “I refuse to participate in a process that is so one-sided and unfair."  

To me, and most of the country, Lance Armstrong represented more than just his super athlete status.  To me he represented reaching in your gut and finding your best self. To me his story teaches about taking what life gives you and making the most of it. He represents the ability we all have to be stronger today than we were yesterday. Also, he made cycling cool.  He made fighting cancer cool. He made otherwise unsightly plastic wristbands cool. 

Lance first came into my life 7 years ago in a time when I was in a funk.  It was a time where I felt my horizons were totally underwhelming.  I was fresh out of college and using my hard earned BYU degree at a mediocre- paying, high- turnover job. I felt like I was wasting away.

Then I read Lance’s bestselling book “It’s Not About the Bike” and things started to shift.  I loved his comeback story. I was deeply impressed and inspired.  After reading his book, knowing nothing about bikes, I went to the nearest bike shop one evening and bought a red, bulky mountain bike.  I rode it 30 miles round trip to work every day. It was a catalyst that helped dispel my self-pity. I began to like myself, my job, my life, better.   Seven years later I still teach a weekly indoor cycling class and am still enjoying the fruits of Lance Armstrong.

Headlines like “Cheat-strong” and “Lance’s Disgrace” are making front page news and it’s sad.  It’s sad that this denunciation nullifies everything Lance Armstrong ever did on a bicycle, while tainting much of what he has done off of one. I hope that because of his philanthropic work and compelling story that we cut him some slack.  Maybe I should feel a little more betrayed, but I still think the lessons we have learned from Lance are valid. The lives he has influenced remain changed, cheating and all.