"Program"

It is all about the "program" -- growing up we had to perform at family gatherings:  sometimes silly things like reciting the alaphabet backwards at Grandma Naine and Grandpa Jim's fiftieth, and other times a more reverant song like "O Holy Night" one Christmas.  In our youth we would kick against the pricks and complain and whine.  But now, we love it.  This Christmas was no different.  The boy team sang the traditional "Dashing Through the Snow" with my boys as reindeers, Weston an adorable Rudolph.  But they also sang James's favorite version:

Dashing through the snow

in a pair of broken skiis

Crashing into trees

The sky is turning red

I think I'm almost dead

I find myself in the hospital

with staples in my head

8

James got baptized on his birthday.  When he came up out of the water he had a smile, and looked to find my eyes.  Afterwards I asked him how he felt and he said, "I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders."

Nothing Sweet About It

When I watched SYTYCD this week the Mandy Moore number really hit me. No, it wasn't because I was reminded of the other Mandy Moore (who stole my heart in A Walk to Remember--scary, I know). And no, it wasn't because I was watching one of my favorite two shows (Glee is the top favorite these days). It was the cane, the cane.

You see, I have been hobbling around on a cane for the past two weeks. I reinjured the soccer ankle in a game AGAIN. And when I went to the doctor they said that I needed crutches. But, you see, crutches and I are deep enemies. In high school there was a long walk down Coleman Avenue on a rainy afternoon with crutches and since then, I can't bear the thought. My arms literally start protesting (and who I am kidding, I would need my arms in a fight). So, I asked her if there was anything else I could do. A cane was her only other suggestion.

So, with thoughts of Hugh Laurie from House and Fred Astaire's dancing cane, I reconciled myself to the cane I now own. And when I saw two people dance with a cane, it hurt inside because I don't make my cane look fabulous. In fact, I have started to leave it behind, much to Chase's chagrin.

Opposed to me, Chase loves the cane. James loves the cane. They even loved the medical supply store where we bought it. Picture Chase driving the motorized scooter around the parking lot and James in his wheelchair. When James sat down in the chair he honestly said, "I could live in this thing," and then begged me to buy him one the rest of the time. Who knew?

Now to the point of this tangent: I hate not being able to walk. It is tragic and reminds me with every step how good I had it. I love legs and the ability to move. I love ankles that twist and a body that can run. And I am determined to be more thankful...because I really do have it good!

The Status Report

People ask me all the time if I am divorced. I'm not, yet. It has been the longest, stinkiest process you could imagine. It is hard to believe that it has been two years since I flew to NY and discovered the truth. But I am hoping in a few months it will be over. As over as it can be.

People also ask me all the time if they can set me up. I can't even begin to say how scary that thought is...I feel like, I've already tried that once, why would I do it again. I honestly gave everything I could think of...and the thought of a second time is frightening.

---

There is an old movie called, The Gay Divorcee. Fred Astaire dances around in his lighter-than-air style and makes it seem so easy, so freeing. I am sad to say it isn't easy or freeing. It just gets more and more complicated. I think perhaps the hardest part is that the person that I knew best in this world, ultimately didn't think I was good enough. It is hard deep inside to face that type of harsh reality and convince myself that I am good enough. (And I am, I've decided).

For some reason, at thirty two, I have to sometimes fight the feeling of being used goods. My youth and bloom are gone (who am I kidding, they were gone at 16), but there is something new in its place. A richness of empathy and sorrow and a conviction that I can do the hardest of things. My well is deeper than me...it is the people around me, the strength I genuinely find in prayer and belief, the knowledge that I have something valuable to offer. And that is what I now fill most of my thoughts with; not with what I am lacking, but with what I can contribute.

I sometimes, theoretically, wish that life didn't have so many road bumps. But somehow, I can't really wish away the very things that make me strongest.

The Sage Advice a Cavity Once Gave Me

I went to the dentist recently and found out that James had five cavities and one of them needed a root canal...but get this, you can't get a root canal if your teeth aren't all the way developed. So, we have to see an Endodontist every couple of months until it grows completely. Oh, did I mention the hole is on his permanent tooth?!

This is all I could think about as I drove home: I am now, officially, doing permanent damage to my children. Up to this point everything that I did as a mother will be forgotten. Sure, they may at some deep level feel more secure or loved because of all the time and energy I have put in as a mother. But they won't remember half of it, ok they won't remember a tenth of it. And if I rarely helped them brush their little teeth, it was alright because I knew those little teeth would be falling out and I would have a second chance. There was no pressure. But now, James is in second grade. And all I know is that I have clear memories of second grade. I remember people and conversations, and moments of my life.

I don't know why, but I lost it. I cried for two days straight over this little tooth. And more than that, when a few days time started to give me some perspective and I started to laugh about it, I knew that I couldn't blog about it. I couldn't actually be honest with most of the people in my life who I am certain would laugh along with me over the tears, the tooth, and the bit of honest reflection. I have been writing on the periphery of my own life. I have been genuinely afraid that if I showed weakness, somehow my children's father would use it against me in a court of law. And it was at last facing this sobering reality that has led me to change the way I weild my words.

I want to be honest, and open, and not be afraid of consequences. At one point, a friend told me that my blog was a hollow reminder of what I once was -- ouch...but true. I have been holding back, my friends. But here I am: reclaiming another piece of myself. Raw. Poorly written. But real.

And thanks for the pieces of you that I get over time. My relationships throughout my life are my greatest treasure. S0, truly, thank you.

Angie Unleashed

So, I am going to go private but you are invited if you ever peak in. Drop me a quick note if you want me to add you and send me your email if you don't think I have it!!

Pink, Pink, Pink

I don't have girls and so I really took advantage of working with so many beautiful pink flowers for this last wedding. I needed a tiara on to properly celebrate this femine color. Oh, I got to use pink rice flowers (a new favorite to add interesting texture and depth). I had to share these pink beauties!

Thanks to Dustin Izatt who took the pictures.

Big Sur

The California Coast Line is unbelievably breathtaking. As we would drive I would tell the boys with every other breath, "Look out the window! Isn't it amazing? Are you seeing this?" And it is at precisely this moment that I realize I am turning into my father...I want to take the longer, but more scenic routes. I am curious as to what those signs in brown say scattered along the road, at rest stops, etc. In this case, I find myself wondering all about the Pfeiffers, and why they get so much amazing property named after them. So blue. So beautiful.

Unconventional School Poses

...but so adorable!

five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred

We were in the car for about five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. And we traveled what seemed to be five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred miles. But we made it. The boys and I drove from Tahoe, to Salt Lake City, to the Grand Canyon, LA, and back home.

What an unforgettable adventure...it only took two books on tape (Daughter of Fortune for me and Fudge for the boys), a High School Musical marathon (1, 2, and 3), music (mostly coming from SYTYCD - Mad by NeYo and Battlefield by Jordin Sparks, but there was a good amount of Jason Mraz and musicals like Pajama Game and Wicked), backseat books (from Where's Waldo to The Mysterious Benedict Society), food in the form of Wheat Thins and carrots (they just really hit the spot for all of us, oh and Diet Coke), and various odd games like Travel Connect Four and Hungry, Hungry, Hippo. I am so glad we did it!

Engaged

My youngest sister, Abbie, is visiting and did I mention, engaged?!

Congrats, Danny and Abbie!

Book Eating Boy

I was just introduced to a darling picture book by Oliver Jeffers, The Incredible Book Eating Boy...a book about my son. James wanted to read 75 books through the library's summer reading program and he finished in under a month. There are a handful of picture books and choose your own adventures (don't worry, he chose every adventure). But, he truly must have been eating them instead of reading them.

For posterity, here is the list:
The Ruins of Gorlan by John Flanagan
The Magic Finger by Roald Dahl
Found by Margaret Peterson Haddix
Eragon by Christopher Paolini
Swordbird by Nancy Yi Fan
And Nobody Got Hurt 2 by Len Berman
Prisoner of the Ant Peopleby R. A. Montogmery
Summer Ball by Mike Lupica
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Eagle by Jeff Stone
Snake by Jeff Stone
The Pocket Dangerous Book for Boys by Conn Inggulden and Hal Iggulden
Go! The Whole World of Transporation
Fast Forwards by Paul Ladewski
The Gecko and Sticky: Villian's Lair by Wendelin Van Draanen
Nicholas Again by Rene Goscinny
Nate the Great and the Tardy Tortoise by Craig Sharmat and Marjorie Sharmat
Nate the Great San Francisco Detective by Mitchell Sharmat and Marjorie Sharmat
Redwall by Brian Jacques
Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules by Jeff Kinney
The Battle of the Labrynth by Rick Riordan
The Fabulous Bouncing Chowder by Peter Brown
Chowder by Peter Brown
Fireman Small by Wong Herbert Yee
The Million Dollar Shot by Dan Gutman
Give My Regrets to Broadway by Bruce Hale
Percy Jackson and the Olympians The Demigod Files by Rick Riordan
Encyclopedia Brown Solves them All by Donald J Sobol
The Dragonslayers by Bruce Coville
Escape by R A Montgomery
Jackie and Me by Dan Gutman
The Tales of King Arthur Retold by Felicity Brooks
The Capture by Kathryn Lasky
Skunkdog by Emily Jenkins
Timothy and the Strong Pajamas by Viviane Schwarz
The Great Brain by John D Fitzgerald
Michael Jordan by Chip Lovitt
Monkey by Jeff Stone
On the Field with Peyton and Eli Manning by Matt Christopher
Coraline by Neil Gaiman
The Sword Thief by Peter Lerangis
Joe Montana's Art and Magic of Quarterbacking by Joe Montana
I Know and Old teacher by Anne Bowen
Peter and the Secret of Rundoon by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson
The Malted Falcon by Bruce Hale
A Book by Mordecai Gerstein
My Life as a Chicken by Ellen A Kelly
Center Court Sting by Matt Christopher
The Mystery of the Maya by R A Montgomery
The Monsters of Morley Manor by Bruce Coville
Trouble is my Beeswax by Bruce Hale
Charlie Small Gorilla City by Charlie Small
The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex
The Lost Jewels of Nabooti by R A Montgomery
Nicholas and the Gang by Rene Goscinny
Fireman Small Fire Down Below by Wong Yee
The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
Dr. De Soto by William Steig
The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart
The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Leigh Stewart
Red Dragon Codex by R D Henham
The Perfect Nest by Catherine Friend
Scritch Scrath by Miriam Moss
The Butter Battle Book by Dr. Seuss
One by Kathryn Otashi
I Left My Sneakers in Dimension X by Bruce Coville
The Kid Who Became President by Dan Gutman
Farewell My Lunch Bag by Bruce Hale
The Evil Power Master by RA Montomery
Space and Beyond by R A Montgomery
The Basket Counts by Matt Christopher
The Million Dollar Strike by Dan Gutman
Abner and Me by Dan Gutman
The Big Nap by Bruce Hale
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

Cornrows

I am not averse to putting terrible pictures of myself up (see exhibit A)...and in this case, I had no choice. This particular photo is the only one I have that shows my cornrows. I went to girls camp in the Sierras and had Ridi braid my hair.

It was so weird to go back as an adult leader and see behind the scenes how much hard work goes into making camp run.

I felt small beside the pine trees, but more alive at the same time. But besides the girls and the majesty, my favorite part was serenading. After the lights go out, the older girls go around and serenade all of the girls.

This is the chorus of one of my favorite songs (I actually use it as one of my standard bedtime lullabies):

It’s a web like a spider’s web
Made of silver light and shadows
Spun by the moon in my room at night
It’s a web made to catch a dream
Hold it tight ‘til I awaken
As if to tell me my dream is all right

Free Rice

I've known about Free Rice for quite some time, but it wasn't until I learned you can switch subjects that I am officially obsessed. I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, the basic idea is if you click on the image above it will take you to the website; where by answering questions right they will donate rice to the UN World Food Program. There are vocabularly questions, but if you click up on the "Subjects" tab you will see that you can answer Spanish, Math, Geography questions...but the one I can't master but am loving is the Famous Paintings. And there is something so satisfying about it; these are the things that you could hear James saying(he is obsessed too)...

It's a Caravaggio, I just know it, look at the dark and light.

Mom, it is 100% a Monet.

Could it be a Vermeer? What does a Vermeer look like again?

That's Some Egg

In Charlotte's Web, one of the adjectives carefully quilted into a web was some. That's, "some pig." I think she also wove radiant and humble (which seem like better choices)...but all of this is besides the point.

This morning we cracked open this fresh Ostrich egg and had fried egg whites and scrambled egg for breakfast (by we, I mean James and Chase). But before we feasted, we talked ostrich shop. We had to look up ostriches on the National Geographic Website. We had to watch the YouTube video of an ostrich attacking a camera and even one of an ostrich race. This, of course, reminded me of the genius race from Swiss Family Robinson where Ernst, wearing a straw top hat, does indeed ride on an ostrich.

Now, Swiss Family Robinson was really more of a way of life than a movie to me. I watched this movie perhaps more than anything else (ok, Overboard is really high on this list for some reason as well). Anyhow, I was able to find it and watch it with my boys and can I just say that A. I love the youngest brother, Francis, who catches an elephant and accidentally blows up coconut bombs, B. don't know why Disneyland switched it to a Tarzan tree house - it was sooo the Swiss Family Robinson's and always will be, and C. I think my brother Pat grew up to be Fritz.

Can I also say on a semi-ostrich related topic, that the Road Runner always looked more like an ostrich to me than a actual road runner...but, maybe it is just me.

Pop

Ok, this entry has a theme song...one you'll have to hum along, to help set the mood. It was that song Pop, or maybe it was called Dirty Pop by 'NSync. You know the era; back when Timberlake had curly hair. You would cringe to hear the bubble-gummiest pop on the radio, but somehow you still knew all the words to Bye, Bye, Bye. Ok, now that you know the song, I am ready to really hit it...

I like pop culture.

That's right, I said it. And like is probably an understatement.

I think that I spent so much of my childhood with my nose turned up to the hoi polloi...I was too concentrated on being cool or unique or something. I would stay far away from anything that was popular for example I never wore those floral boxers from Gap when everyone else did in the seventh grade. Maybe a better example is that I missed out on the New Kids On the Block obsession. Donny, Johnny, something, someone. And now that they are back, I am left wondering what I missed. I don't have the excitement that people around me do (mostly those people waiting days to see them on morning show rounds). Now some would say that I didn't miss out on New Kids; one might even argue that I narrowly escaped. But it isn't the talent, it is the feeling that I am talking about.

For example, I truly am so caught up in who Jillian is going to choose. I didn't want to get involved with something as desperately cheesy as rose ceremonies. And normally, I am a perfectly happy sideline mocker. But this time around, I care. I am more than relieved that the Bastard is gone, confused about how she has fallen for the neurotic Reid, worried that there hasn't been enough time with Ed, and concerned that Kiptyn can't really fall deep because he is too cautious.

I lalalaLOVE SYTYCD. It is hands down my favorite show of the year. I love to watch these people dance. Love.

I watch what I can of funerals of people I really was never that invested in, but want to hear what their childhood friend's say about this mysterious man who never really grow up.

I get excited when I see HSM 3 on showtime...you mean I get to watch Troy dance throughout the halls of his high school some more...great, I'll stay up until the wee hours of the morn. I've been blaming the obsession on Chase who genuinely loves High School Musical anything...but who am I kidding, I am the one who bought the soundtrack and listened over and over and over and, well, you get it.

If I listed my top ten friends; Luke, Lorelai, and Rory would be on that list.

I've watched the trailer for New Moon several times! Did I think the first movie was good? Absolutely not...I laughed through the entire thing. But, it doesn't stop me from wanting to see the next one. And it is more than wanting, I really love this "getting caught up in the hype".

I'm not sure if my ennui has pushed me to this desperate loving of all things pop culture, but I think it possibly more than that. I think that life is more fun getting caught up in the silly, the frivolous. I think that if I had the chance, I might start buying up Beanie Babies or collecting Star Wars figurines. I think that finding joy in the mundane is supremely rewarding. It is perhaps my own little paradigm shift. But for now, call me Bridget Jones and wish me a little more levity in life.

Family

I love my family! And I love Hawaii!
...but I am still trying to figure out: what is the point of living if we all don't live in Hawaii (and by all, I mean everyone, everywhere).

Shaka

I'm Wishing...

I had a crazy dream last night. Andy Samberg (of snl fame) and I were eating pastries at Cassis in Manhattan. Satire was rolling off our tongues in the form of conversation. We were bandying about talk of Progressivism and Ahmadinejad, it was all very pithy and witty.

But after awhile, I started to focus less on conversation and more on setting. There, next to the table, was a wishing well. A small wishing well...I half expected a miniature Snow White to come whistling by with her wishes, but she didn't come. And I just kept looking at its blueness. Did I mention it was a blue wishing well, well it was and I kept wondering what was inside.

I woke up and still wondered. And this is what I've come up with...wishing wells are full of wishes and I am wishless. Lately, I live fully rooted in the present. Wishes are for dreamers and quite honestly thinking of the future isn't something I've wanted to do. I would much rather just focus on the here and now, and try to make the most of it...because what's next? Who knows? Least of all me. But after thinking about this wishing well of my dream, I've decided that I don't want it to be empty. I want a dream. I'm not sure what it will be, but I'm working on it, and that's something.

As for Andy...I have no idea...other than have you seen him as a white Rastafarian? or when he danced in "Single Ladies" with Justin Timberlake? Or even Blizzard Man? Too funny!

Opening Day

The Boys are Back

High School Musical 3 is really more of a way of life than a movie for Chase. He puts on his "Troy" costume and dances and sings and is quite frankly, the most adorable four year old!

...And then you hit a pole

Do you ever feel like you are your own worst enemy?

I seem to have the amazing ability to walk into walls and trip over my own two feet. I spill and I brake things - and I can't blame it on my toddler stage, because let's face it, that is far behind me. I have seriously considered never shaving my legs again, because I don't want another little cut on my leg.

It is almost as if I have found enough patience to deal with spilled milk and grumpy children, the semi that is stuck in an endless three-point turn the middle of the street and the sore throat that never seems to heal; but when it comes to stubbing my toe -- that's it, I'm through. I have so little patience for my own clumsiness.

For example, the other morning I went to walk the dish. And more than that, I invited someone I casually know from James school -- my attempt to reach out. So, I was feeling good - exercise and a friend - you go girl. But, it was in that very moment, that I hit an invisible pole. I was parking on the side of the road, and I swear that it didn't exist. I saw a pole five feet away, that I wanted to be sure to avoid, but the pole that I hit, well, I didn't see that one. But, trust me, the dent is proof that even if it was invisible it had some serious wrecking capacity. And then, I felt silly and embarrassed and definitely mad at myself. Why? When there is so much on my plate, must I go and do ridiculous things. I was busily balancing childrening, cooking, working, family-ing, soccer playing, book reading, bookbinding, mentoring, teaching, churching, visiting, volunteering, James schooling, running, Bachelor watching, cooking...I don't have space for body shopping on my mom's new car. Oh, did I mention I was driving my mother's car? I know, I sound like I am in high school, but it's true. I dented a new car. New and not mine. Sigh.

Life's a...and then you hit a pole.

A Four Year Old

His shirt apporpriately says, "Terror of the Seas"

150 Balloons make for an awesome Ocean

Happy Football Weekend

Dad, I love the football under your arm in this photo.

Flowers + Damask

I never showed you these flowers I did for a wedding last year...the bride was gorgeous in a short dress and he took amazing photos!

Baa-nah nuuuhh SLUG SLUG SLUG SLUG

Baa-nah nuuuhh SLUG SLUG SLUG SLUG!!!!

Ba-nana slug, banana-nana-nana
Ba-nana slug, banana-nana-nana
Ba-nana slug, banana-nana-nana

If kissing a banana slug brings good luck, what does licking do? Don't worry, we didn't find out.

High-larious Hostage Situation

I am loving the hostage situation going on over at is*ly. In fact, I think it is the way every playdate should begin.

I just visited a school that does a gingerbread unit better than I could dream. The Kindergarteners read about the gingerbread man, bake cookies together, but when they return the cookies are gone. It turns into the ultimate "did they run away" or "were they stolen" - they learn about words like alibi and motive. And take bite imprints from prime suspects...I am about read to play this game at home.

All the intrigue in the air...isn't life more fun when we get to roll play like our children?!

Subway Memories

Christoph Niemann did an interesting piece in the NY Times awhile back. He illustrated his life with the subway as his instrument...his children "see everything through a subway lens. When they fight about who gets which cup for their apple juice, they don’t refer to them by color...I don't want the 1,2,3 I want the N, R, W, Q."

The first time in my life I got on a New York Subway, I was a terribly, mixed-up disaster. I was actually on the last car on the 1 and tried to go to South Ferry. But everyone that lives there knows, the last five subway cars don't open up at that stop (they will someday, I think there are plans to extend the platform). Anyhow, I remember sailing past that stop, so confused, wondering where I went wrong. It didn't take long before I was confidently rocking back and forth, trying to prevent people from making the same mistake I did.

The subways were an easy friend. Once in awhile they would let you down. For example, in the middle of the Summer you would hurry to an empty car thinking that you hit the jackpot. But the moment you felt the heat sweltering, you realized that the a/c was out, making it a trap of heat, smells and moisture. It only took another stop before you crowded onto the other car, watching the same ritual happen with another unsuspecting traveler.

James became one of the regulars. He could direct any traveler anywhere; a four year old helping people avoid this line and reminding them to transfer here. He could even hear the difference certain trains made, "Mom, this A sounds like a W." When we got off, I looked back, and sure enough, the W had been running on the A line for some reason or another."

I have been doing a lot of thinking about Manhattan and incidentally, the friend who directed me to this article. The cartoons are pretty hysterical, but there is more to it. There is truth to the idea that we use the things that surround us to define us; our lens by circumstance, not choice. I hope I can carefully choose the glasses I wear because they are the ones my children look through as well. I think that for now, I might be their lens. And I want them to see a bright shiny future full of hope and possibility for what they can bring to the world.

iFriend

I didn't know in getting a phone I would be making a friend...a lovely phone that makes call waiting easy and voicemail easier. A phone that takes pictures like this one of a little boy who is clearly King of the Playground. A phone that has a timer I can set so that I don't miss the meter expiring (25 cents for five minutes - are you kidding me San Francisco - who has that many quarters). A phone that I can even post on.

Almost sent from my iPhone - I am guessing I could at least...

Double Bird Strike

I found myself glued to the news. The birds that took down an Airbus and an amazing pilot who glided the plane into the Hudson, barely avoiding bridges and such. No one died, and injuries were minimal. The captain barely said anything, but he did say, "Brace Yourselves" right before impact.

My first apartment in Manhattan looked out on the Hudson. And all of the photos seemed to be in my backyard. I am guessing friends probably looked out their windows and watched the ferries rush in.

Amazing. I think I'll be using the phrase "double bird strike" for those days that seem to have crushing blows...you know those days...and I'll try to remember that even with two engines down there is still room for a miraculous ending.

Green Eggs and Salami

Chase and his Grammy read and read and read. This morning, they read a daring tale about the adventure of a chicken named Louise. They also read Green Eggs and Ham which prompted Chase to request the same for breakfast. Now, Chase's requests are less like requests and more like desperate yearnings for an immediate response. I sighed looked in the fridge and said, "What about green eggs and salami?" Luckily, salami sufficed. And after a few drops of green food coloring we were in business. But when he said, "Try some, Mamma." I knew my line, "I do not like green eggs and ham." He countered with, "Try them, Try them, and you may." So, gulp, I tried them and can honestly say that eating green eggs do taste different. And I don't like them in a boat, or in a coat, or with a rhino or with anything else silly that can rhyme. But Chase did, and that makes me happy.

I know, they do NOT look good! Would you try them? I personally don't know how I feel about that green-egg-pusher Sam. Enough already, he doesn't want it.

Happy New Year; Looking Ahead