Summer mirage

 

This song has been going through my head this week, one of the epic + quintessential songs from a really fun summer of my past.  "It's the summer of love, love, love." It makes me think of a little red Ford Tempo, lent by my grandparents while they were away for year, windows down, breeze rushing through my hair, twilight approaching, music up. Maybe that's why I've been craving orange popsicles and lemonade a bit.

What will this be the summer of? The kids all have completely different kinds of summer in store.

Lauren will be working full time for 7 weeks as a camp counselor in a local day camp.

Maddy will be working as a volunteer (if you visit Orchard House, look for our girl there) and attending girl's camp and EFY and doing driver's ed.

Sam will be attending an awesome service/outdoor adventure boys camp for a few weeks in July (more on that later) and then enjoying a free and easy August.  

For the first year ever, we won't all be summering to the beat of the same drowsy & spontaneous drummer. (hmm, in that analogy, am I that drummer? Yes.) Hopefully we'll still find time to go to the pond together, to bike for ice cream now and then, and go to a drive-in movie. But it'll be different kind of summer and I'll miss the old lovely togetherness (with an honest side of nagging and nerves).

However. The younger two kids are still in school for one more week. For Maddy, it's the worst week of the entire year because of finals. Is that a thing with all high schools now? Ours has university-style finals week at the end of each semester, using a special schedule where everyone takes two long exams a day, some of them cumulative for the year.  Too much and too soon, I say! Anyway, shhhhhhhh about summer around Maddy; it's all just a mirage for her at this point, a summer mirage. She's all highlighters, rewritten notes, and library afternoons until next Friday. (Go Maddy!)

. . .

photo via pinterest and this, attributed to vookie

You're a good man...

Sam rocked and relished the role of Roy in his middle school's production of You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown this past week. It's his first brush with the stage and I think he's hooked.  Can you spot him here on the back row with his mouth open in Peanuts-like enthusiasm?

Who exactly is Roy, you ask?

He's the guy who wears the green fez and scribble shirt, naturally!

Sam is someone who believes in the power of research. He scoured Peanuts websites and comics for mention of Roy. He might have just been using the excuse to spend more time on the computer but just maybe we are witnessing the birth of a method actor. Who is Roy? What are his motivations? What are his hopes and dreams?

He had several lines, the most memorable (originally written for Sally, I think) was:

"I was jumping rope… everything was all right when… I don’t know… suddenly it all seemed so futile!"

There was much discussion and weighing of the pronunciation of "futile" in our household.

Is it fyoo-tile? Fyoo-tul?

Bravo, Sam!

(True story: When I was young I thought everyone was yelling "Provo!" at the end of performances. Somehow it made strange sense to me, maybe since both of my sets of grandparents lived there, and I relished shouting Provo as often as I could.)

p.s. It's fyoo-tul.

Backseat confessional

Something about riding in the car inspires all sorts of conversations and confessionals, doesn't it? A usually reticent boy will open up and relate detailed school interactions, thoughts about current events, intricacies of middle school social structure, plots of books, outlines of essays he's writing. The key is to remain mildly interested but not TOO interested if you know what I mean. Like most skittish creatures, middle school boys scamper away at the first hint of bright spotlight and inquiry.

Last week we were driving to scouts (or some other such thing) and a certain someone started describing how in one class his friends started dissing their parents, telling stories about how lame or clueless or (gulp) awful their parents are.

This should be interesting, I thought. Remember: skittish. Channel disinterest, disinterest, disinterest.

"Oh? Hmmm..."

"Yeah, I couldn't really think of anything really. But finally I told everyone how you used to mix up my shorts with Maddy's when you folded laundry into piles."

Well, whew. Internal fist pump. Though I couldn't decide if he was trying to compliment me or clear his conscience! 

I had to laugh. Don't get me wrong; there are tons of things he could have said about my cluelessness/bad parent moments. But as evidentiary exhibits of bad parents go, I'll take it. I love his rosy memory and am just thrilled that at least one of my kids doesn't have an encyclopedic memory of all of my less stellar moments. Because they're there. Oh, they're there. Just ask my other two.

List of five: How we roll today

1. It snowed. Happy April Fools Day, New England style!

2. Unfortunately, this car is not how we roll today.

Lauren and Maddy got into a fender bender last night, where they were the middle of a three-car cruncher. Luckily, everyone was okay other than being a little shaken. (They complained of some achiness this morning so we asked the doctor to check out Maddy's headache and neck ache and Lauren's back ache. All is well.) But still scary.  Someone please come up with a bubble wrap enclosure for our teenagers. Okay, thanks.

3. G had to do a video teleconference from home this morning so we got him all set up.

The tower of board games to position the light was particularly delightful. Oh, yeah. That's how we roll.

4. School is hard work. Naps are how we roll on Friday afternoons.

Changing the world, one nap at a time.

5. Thank you for your paint suggestions! They definitely led me in the right direction and now I have a very nice reference folder for future projects. I settled on Moonshine for our bedroom, a soothing grey. This was my Moonshine inspiration, at Young House Love , where someone sent me but I can't remember who:

So far I love it. The faded wallpaper and quirky tree mural from the previous owner are gone, baby, gone! Um, yes, it took me three years from that wallpaper post to get to the bedroom paint makeover. And, yes, I STILL decided the paint color at the last minute. I'm coming to realize (and G has long known) that's just how I roll.

Happy weekend, one and all! I will be enjoying General Conference, attending a dear friend's daughter's bat mitvah, doing prom errands with Lauren, and cozying up for some family time.

He rose from his sick bed

Sam had a piano recital today and we weren't entirely sure whether he'd make it, what with the whole stomach flu thing afflicting him since Tuesday, but he did it and with gusto (and a few pre-recital butterflies). Sam's awesome piano teacher has really encouraged his composing as well as his playing and so they chose this Sam original for today's performance. I give you Anxiety, with an embellishment of some guy's cough and my gritty realism (shaky) camera skills:

It made me remember piano recitals of my youth. It's where I first learned that I get sweaty hands when I'm nervous. And then I get really, really sleepy, which is the opposite of the adrenaline boost that would be helpful. I remember having odd, out-of-body thoughts like "those are my fingers playing this song. Weird. I'm really sleepy. How do I even remember the notes? DO I remember the notes?" and then I'd either stumble or, miraculously, my fingers would take over without needing my pesky brain.

I love that Sam called this Anxiety. It's like a musical map to one of his emotions. A window into his (not pesky at all) brain.

Outtakery

Just a few outtakes from this year's Christmas photo shoot...

Instead of my usual DIY self-timer method, I decided to splurge on having our photographer friend come and take them--especially since Lauren will be heading to college next year and we might not do it again for a while. 

What was especially wonderful? It was just a really fun afternoon spent laughing and playing--a nice family memory in itself. 

 ^We didn't want to drag the piano outside so we used piano music in a typewriter instead

And this one cracks me up every. single. time:  . . .

Chalkboards via Brooke at Playing Grown Up (but if you live near me, I'm happy to let you use mine) They have helpful little knobs on the back.

Photos by Nicole Barker

Lucky guy

 

Sam has been a lucky guesser lately. He has won four--FOUR!--guessing contests this year. His latest victory was at the middle school on Maroon and Gold Day right before Thanksgiving. He guessed there were 2092 skittles in the jar. There were 2098 (obviously there are fewer now, as you can see).

I guess he uses his crazy math skills to calculate and win. (Don't ask me, I'm more the humanities type; I credit those genes gifted from his engineer grandfather. Seriously, the boy has an amazing 100% average in math right now. Mathlete.) Luckily for everyone else he's a good sharer--from homeroom to the school bus to the home front. In fact, I have now confiscated and hidden the jar to eliminate its siren call to all of us. Unfortunately, I still know where it is.

In the meantime, we are planning to get Sam trained in weight-guessing and other carnival skills so he can put his guessing skills to more lucrative success.

And then we'll make him do our taxes.

What's UP, Halloween style

{Recognize us? Ellie, Carl Frederickson, and Russell from UP}

also The Riddler (Jenny, we totally swiped this from you)

and a lovely gypsy who evaded all photos but this one

Lessons learned: 

1. It's amazing what you can throw together with a last minute idea on a Saturday afternoon
2. It's more fun when everyone joins in
3. One of these years we should get ready early enough to take Halloween photos in natural light 
4. You can find pretty much anything you need at the 5 and 10
5. But you'll have to take four trips there in one day to get everything you need 
6. We like to pose with our hands on our hips around here

A sad conversation

Sunday night I was chatting with Sam on the sofa. He was having those oh-so-familiar-to-me Sunday night blues, dreading piano lessons (he hadn't practiced much) and homework and saying goodbye to the weekend. 

We talked for a while and then lapsed into silence for a few moments.

"Is there anything else bothering you? You still seem pretty upset."

Silence, a shrug.

"Anything at school you want to talk about? Or with friends?"

Silence, an exhale, his eyes shifted to mine.  "I guess it's just... [pause]...I mean...[pause]... Halloween just doesn't feel as fun as it used to be. We used to have so much fun" [chin quiver].

Being 12 is hard, that cusp between childhood and teenhood. The magic of childhood kind of leaves you in the dust, wondering where it all went. I remember being about his age and feeling like things didn't quite live up to my memories and expectations anymore. I felt bereft.

Add to that, being the youngest child is also difficult--everyone moves on to their next thing and leaves you wishing for more of what you long for: childhood, family time, games running around outside, skeletons and ghosts and decorations, the more the better.  Instead, he watches his sisters come home from school+activities and head for the books, the computer, the phone. No wonder!  (Also: Sorry, Chris, my youngest brother. It must have been hard for you, too.)

My heart broke a little for Sam. The lack of Halloween decorations (we do have a pumpkin on the porch! One!) symbolizes how much we've forgotten in the rush of school routines: the fun! the silliness! We used to have so much fun was a really good reminder (or indictment?) that our whole life doesn't have to be about leaf projects and college applications and work/school/obligations. There's the basic joy of living life, too.  I know this but I wasn't doing it.

Sorry, buddy. Now where did I put those black crows and skeletons?

. . .

Do you remember a time when some of the shine went out of things? What do you think about how birth order affects the kind of (length of) childhood someone experiences?

The wedding at the end of the tracks

The train took us to Los Angeles for a happy reason: my cousin Erik was getting married. At this point in our family, these weddings only happen every so often (and I've missed the last few) so I was determined to go celebrate and see everyone. We spent time with my parents and my sister and took the chance to enjoy Santa Monica pier,

and movies and eating and even Disneyland along the way.

The wedding was lovely and dreamy: cousin Erik married Vivi on a yacht in Marina del Rey at sunset. All of my aunts & uncles (except one) and many cousins were there. Somehow I neglected to bring my camera so these photos are snagged from facebook. 

 

It's a pity they are so unattractive, though. I really feel bad for their future children. It will be hard to be saddled with those long-legged, white-toothed, chiseled-bone-structure genes. Poor things. Let's take up a collection, shall we?

. . .

Listen: The Book of Love ~ Rose Polenzani & Rose Cousins (Magnetic Fields cover)