A Little Bit Tiger Mother

I have music on the brain. While I love music and always have music on, there is a reason for an increased cognizance: music is now being played in our home - not simply listened to.

Sweet Cheeks has been asking to play the violin for years now. Yes, she's only 5, but it's been years since she has wanted to play. My niece plays the violin, and when we visited Arizona earlier this year she lent us her teeny, tiny violin. It's a 1/16, meaning it's 1/16th the scale of a full size violin. It's adorable, although doesn't boast the most  pleasing tone.

Lessons have begun and practices are held regularly. Lessons are wonderful. Practices are not. They are a bit reminiscent of the practice sessions with her daughter Lulu that Amy Chua described in her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. But it's better than when I was attempting to teach her. (Yes, I played violin as a girl. No, I'm not any good. At one time I had potential, alas I quit to involve myself in other high school related pursuits. And I never practiced.)

I will admit that I'm hard on my girls. I have high expectations, particularly of Sweet Cheeks. I see what she is capable of  and it drives me crazy when she tries to be lazy. In terms of violin lessons, these high expectations coupled with a clash of personalities has made for some stressful situations not devoid of tears, yelling, and threats - both idol and fulfilled. It's not something I'm proud of.

Not all practice sessions are horrible. If all goes well they last 10 minutes. With fighting, they drag on. Through this  I have definitely gained an understanding of what she Amy Chua was doing. Like her, I have come to understand that because parents do have the perspective their children lack, the parent often must push them beyond what the child feels comfortable with.

That being said, there is a balance that must be attained. I hope Sweet Cheeks sticks it out and plays into her adulthood. At this point she doesn't have the choice, but I hope, unlike Amy Chua, I don't drive her to quit something she loves.  I have to make sure my obsessive parenting doesn't outweigh the benefits violin lessons can bring into her life. Most important of all that it doesn't drive her from me.

At any rate, violin practice can be heard most days by both mother and daughter. I anticipate that will continue for years to come.

On a similar note (no pun intended) - Sweet Cheeks has been "beat boxing". I'm not quite sure where she picked that up, but it's quite entertaining. I'm wondering if one day she'll be like this guy:

Amazing, right? It makes me wonder about the back story from both his perspective and that of his parents. Something to think about.

How You Doin' (Part Two)

I told you I was committed to updating this little blog of mine. In a way I'm a little surprised myself. I had always sworn that if I got backed up I would just pick up right where I was and not back track. This certainly isn't the first time I'm going back on something I swore I would never do. You should just ask the youth leaders I had growing up about everything I said I would never do.

The thing is, with the blog I never really wanted this to be a journal. For now I feel like it's been a good spring and summer that needs to be documented. So, no...I'm not journaling. I'm simply documenting.

Early Celebrations This year marks 10 years of wedded-ness.Being that this year is the really the first whopper of an anniversary, we decided to go on an adventure sans children. It was the first time. Ever. Ever, as in since the girls entered the picture. Okay, our anniversary is not until November, but who says you can't celebrate a milestone of this magnitude for an entire year.

So we left the children in the capable and loving hands of Grammy and my niece, Victoria and headed to the rainy Northwest for a week.We had never been to Seattle, and the stars aligned in such a way that the city kind of chose us. For the record, the only time it rained was the day we left, but it was much colder than I anticipated.

We found a week away to be too long not only for what there was to do in Seattle, but it was difficult being away from the girls for that long. We divided our time between the northern Puget Sound/San Juan Islands and Seattle. Seattle has some fun and whimsical neighborhoods that we loved, and hiking up north was breathtaking. The antique stores weren't too shabby either.

The week away certainly did it's job: we were able to reconnect in a way that isn't possible when the kids are around. It's amazing how much effort is required before you remember how to have conversations without the typical interruptions and that don't revolve around the functions of life at home. I think we're sold on an annual couple's retreat. Maybe not for quite as long next time. 

My Happy Place Once again we are participating in the Great Country Farms CSA. Getting out to the country once a week where the girls have an opportunity to play after we pick produce from the fields is just about the happiest thing we've done this summer. I don't think there has been one time the girls didn't want to go.

Though they were very ready to leave this past week when we were DRENCHED by buckets of rain that lasted only while we were picking our peaches and raspberries. It started as the hayride to the fields left and stopped when we pulled up to the store coming home. It was kind of nice to have use of the heater in August.

More to come. Certainly the best is yet.

How You Doin' (Part One)

I'm a failed blogger. Regular updates lasted roughly six months. Sounds about right. I really do have a short attention span. But just when I think I've reconciled myself to that fact I get the itch again.

I really do enjoy it. It's therapeutic for me. It's just time consuming. Maybe I need to reevaluate my blogging expectations. Does every post need to be a book? Of course not, but apparently I have a lot to say. And does every post need to have an image that has been edited?  Not really, but it's fun and I'm obsessive.

When asked by friends what I've been up to, I honestly have to think about it for a while. Things have, for the most part, been status quo. I guess that isn't completely true. There have been goings on. And status quo for spring is definitely different than that of summer. Spring ended along with school routines. Summer began bringing with it a desperate attempt to make some kind of routine.

So, in case you've been wondering, I'm going to give you a glimpse into the goings on of my life since spring. Now that I'm actually sitting down to do this, I'm realizing that it's just not going to happen in one, quick blog post, so here is Part One. Not to fear...you won't be left hanging. I'm in sincere catch-up mode. Which I swore I would never do, but that's a different story.

Without further ado, I bring you Part One:

Run You Mother: Yeah, not so much 
Remember how I announced I was signed up to run the Charlottesville Marathon? Well, that didn't really happen. See, I found out that it's really, really, hard training for a race through the winter. Especially when I ended up training solo. And then I got a pain in the butt, literally. Technically I injured my right piriformis (which is in the butt) and hamstring. It made running lots of fun. I was forced to take some time off.

I did end up running the half-marathon injury and all. Not only did I run it - I KILLED it. I wanted my time to be below 2 hours. Not only was I below 2 hours, I did it in 1:56 and placed 133 out of 629 women. Injured to boot. WAHOO for me. It helped that my sister ended up coming from Arizona to run the full marathon. Seeing her cross the finish line was fabulous. What was even more fabulous was that I wasn't sad that I couldn't run the full marathon. I was content with 13.1 miles.

After the race I took about 4 months off to heal. Which didn't work so I went to Physical Therapy. Good times. While I'm not yet 100%, at least I'm running again. Slowly. It's just good to be able to run.

The Little Dirt Diva Sweet Cheeks was on a softball team for the first time this spring. It was so much fun for her to play, and even more fun for us to watch. By the end of the season she understood what was going on, but even then she often found the pile of dirt she was building or something that caught her eye in the distance more engaging than the game. I have quite a few videos of it, which I'll eventually get around to editing.



Stay tuned for Part 2.

All I Want is A Bouncy Cow

Friday was my Sweet Addie-Cake's birthday. Who knew three years could go so fast. No longer the chunky 8lbs 8oz babe, she is full of personality, happiness, and a mind of her own.

Did I mention that she knows what she wants? We're going to the farm again this year, where one of her favorite things to do is play with the bouncy cows. Silly thing.

So that's what she got. And she bounced all evening while she played with her cousins. What can I say, the girl likes to move.

It was more than a little difficult getting her here, but who could resist those chunky cheeks and rolly-polly legs. And that cute smile.

A Discovery a la Last Post

On the topic of great music, I just found some. There is a production group called The Occidental Saloon out of good ol' Provo, Utah that produces music videos of up and coming artists. Let me clarify - Utah artists. Be ye not skeptical. There are some A-M-A-Z-I-N-G and talent peeps that write great music. Neon Trees, anyone?

So, this is Emily Brown. I'm amazed by her. Her voice to me is innocent and wise, playful and pensive. All at the same time. This song, Nocturne, is hauntingly beautiful. I'm in love and wishing for about the gazillionth time I could play the piano.

Those Pesky Consequences...

If I've learned anything from being a parent, it's that you frequently get bit in the be-hind. That does happen literally, but right now I'm speaking figuratively. Even the most innocent things you do and say will inevitably come and bite you. I'm thinking along the lines of letting the girls sleep in bed with me while Otterpop is out of town means an entire week of re-sleep training. Or giggling at a potty joke at home usually means embarrassment...nay, MORTIFICATION...when said child shouts to the world that same potty joke in the most inappropriate of places. 

I'm not especially a fan of "kid music". It kinda drives me nuts. Okay really drives me nuts. My sanity is hanging by a thread as it is, so why push it, right? I want my girls to cultivate an appreciation for music across all genres, which I feel means they need to be exposed to real music early on. Kid.z B.op doesn't count. I have my own feelings on that, mostly because I don't think a moderately edited song should receive a stamp of approval simply because a kid is singing it. In fact I think it makes it worse. There I go on tangent. Back to my point...

This has backfired on me more than once. The girls listening to adult music, that is. There was a time I heard Sweet Cheeks singing a very inappropriate Black Eyed Peas song while listening to my iPod. While I made it clear to her that song wasn't appropriate and turned it off she kept singing it for days. I could just imagine her doing it in public. I suppose it would serve me right. After all, I'm supposed to be the gate keeper.

Did I learn my lesson? A little. I am more vigilant than I was about the music in our home, but not as much as I ought to be. Consequently, as of late I am constantly being serenaded with somewhat less-than-appropriate songs by a 21/2 year old.

Okay, it's not so bad.  Full disclosure...I regularly put on "Single Ladies" for the girls. I think it's fun and basically harmless. But I hate La.dy Ga.ga. Even if her songs are catchy and not all are completely inappropriate, I think she is a horrible example to young girls. I'm not sure where Addie-Cakes picked up that song. Well, actually from her older sister. Who I think heard the Kid.z B.op version at the gym. Dang that Kid.z B.op.

I guess the consequence of children listening to adult music is children singing adult music. Yet I have not one bit of remorse. There is a lot of good music out there, and I want to teach them to choose good music as they grow up. Maybe I do need to be more careful about what they listen to. And nipping it in the bud rather than videoing it because it's funny. What can I say? It's my punishment.



 P.S. There are a few exceptions to the awful kid music. When Addie-Cakes was born my former boss gave me a kid music CD Barenaked Ladies wrote and produced, which is really good. The Curious George soundtrack by Jack Johnson is great, too. Who are we kidding, though? I would bet money those albums were inspired by their very own battle with kid-induced insanity. Thankfully they had the talent to do something about it and helped talk parents everywhere off the proverbial ledge. 

Music to My Ears

 
Scrubbing the toilet the other day wasn't quite the chore it typically is. Yes, I actually said that. Only because of the lovely background music, though.

You see, Sweet Cheeks was reading her sister a book. They hovered over a book all close and cozy-like the entire time I cleaned the bathroom. Crazy, right? Crazy and wonderful. Both that Sweet Cheeks is already reading, and that she's reading to her sister.

The girls have been playing incredibly well together lately. Of course there is the typical bickering, tattling, punching, kicking and hair pulling that all sisters put each other through. But more often than not they are best friends.

And those days when I'm not forced to referee every two minutes make me remember why staying at home to raise my girls is the best choice I've ever made. Until tomorrow when the truce is broken and Referee Mama is on duty. All day. Then I'll need another reminder.

There and Back Again

To Arizona. Back home, and some places in between - mostly this place called Life, really. That's where I've been. Somewhere along the road I lost my way. I once wondered how I would ever find enough material to supply a blog that's not a complete yawn fest. Then a transformation occurred and I began to see life as a series of potential blog posts. Well, that I saw the possibilities of blog posts in every day life is more accurate.

That's where I lost my way. Enough time passed between posts and I went from noticing a barrage of potential blog fodder to forgetting to even look for those things. Thus, the lapse in time. Worry aside - I have returned. The prodigal attempted blogger. Not that anyone but the nagging at the back of my conscious has even noticed the absence. At this point I wasn't planning to document our adventures. But then I was sifting through pictures remembering how much fun we had. I can't just pass by as if it never happened. I figure a glimpse will do. You can see pictures on my other blog.

• Arizona was wonderful albeit not as warm as I had hoped it would be
• I will admit to wishing we lived there on more than one occasion
• All of my siblings made it, though we were all together for just hours rather than days. At least we got family pictures.
• Ragnar was spectacular
• My parent's lemon tree was prolific. As in lemons the size of grapefruit. Seriously. I came home with 35lbs. Don't be jealous.
• Sweet Cheeks went to school at her Auntie Kenna's preschool
• And we visited Auntie LaNae's family in Yuma - what I've always called the armpit of Arizona. It's really not that bad. Once you get passed the smell of the lettuce plants. Plants, as in factories.

I had said I was going to visit Arizona to run Ragnar, but of course the real reason was so my girls could make actual memories of their family. Addie Cakes was an infant the last time we were there, so she was essentially meeting her cousins and some Aunties for the first time.

Before we left she had a hard time grasping the idea that she had cousins other than her "Virginia cousins", whom we see regularly. That is one of the hardest things about living far from family, which is actually why we are in Northern VA. Otter and I both wanted to make sure we were close to at least some family after we graduated from college in Utah. Virginia won. This was before we had children and the difficulty of ensuring meaningful relationships with my side of the family hadn't registered. Of course had we moved to Arizona instead the situation would just be reversed.

But now both of the girls have memories of their family. They see pictures and know names, and make associations that in all reality are probably just a vague recognition of a memory - for Addie Cakes, at least. But the associations are there. And for now that's all that matters. So while I miss my family every day, at least now I know it's not impossible. My girls love and miss my family - their family - more than the space that divides us.

Apprehention and the Princess

Princesses give me anxiety. They kind of always have. I'm not talking about the Disney kind, of which I have issues with that I won't delve into now. I'm talking about those girls who really are normal in every way except that they are treated like princesses by Daddy. And of course this gives them the excuse to act like a princess all the time. You know the ones. Even worse are the ones that are getting married. They're the reason the term Bridezilla was coined.

Imagine my apprehension when, way back in 2010, a friend of mine asked if I would consider photographing her brother's wedding. The week after Christmas. Don't get me wrong. I know there are plenty of brides out there that are perfectly sweet, gracious and kind. But you know how it is when a stereotype gets stuck in your mind.

My natural instinct to avoid Bridezilla coupled with my inexperience and of course the fact that it was so close to Christmas promptly brought the word "no" to my lips. Assured by the implied promise of lowered expectations due to the need to cut costs, and the fact that the family was easy going, I agreed to think about it.

It took me a while before I agreed. When I told Otter about the proposition his first words were "Oh man. That's a disaster waiting to happen." Yeah, exactly the supper supportive vote of confidence I was looking for. I think he imagined some Bridezilla that would tear me apart at my first for-pay gig. So, really, not all that different from my first impression. Once I agreed to do it he was incredibly supportive and even helped me overcome my jitters.

Fast forward a few months and the pictures are taken, processed, and the CD is on it's way to the Bride. As promised she was sweet and easy going. Certainly not anywhere near the princess of my nightmares. It was a great learning experience for me and I'm grateful for the opportunity. There are definitely things I will do different should I shoot another wedding, but over all I'd say not too shabby for my first gig.

And - just maybe - I'm on my way to overcoming my princess complex.  After all, just because someone looks like a princess doesn't mean they'll act like one. What a relief.

At Long Last

They say "Home is Where the Heart is". I've considered Virginia my home for years, but part of my heart is still in Arizona where I grew up. It's been two years since I've been back to visit, but the dry spell is about to come to an end. Yippee!

It's kind of funny because at this point in my life I've lived away from Arizona quite a bit longer than I ever lived there - 9 years, to be exact. That's how long I lived there. And while I was there I wanted nothing more than to move away. Yet even while I was gone I craved to go home to Arizona. To this day when asked where I'm from it's Arizona I claim.

One might wonder why we're making the trek out there now. We being the girls and I. After all, it's not the holidays and school is in session. I've kind of boycotted traveling for Christmas. And summers in Arizona don't agree with me. Yes, it's a dry heat which isn't as oppressive as the 90 degrees with 80% humidity we see here, but 115 degrees and more is just miserable. I'm just saying.

Back to my point - this is the last year before Sweet Cheeks is in school. Next year when she goes to Kindergarten life will never be the same. So I'm taking full advantage. Even if she will miss 2 weeks of preschool.

Truth be told, that is only half the reason. The real reason for going when we're going is RAGNAR: 12 people racing 200 miles in 24-ish hours. The reason we're staying two weeks is because we found a really (I mean R-E-A-L-L-Y) good deal on tickets that just happened to go up significantly if I chose different dates. It's meant to be.

So, Ragnar: My sister Rebecca works for an oral surgeon who is sponsoring a team for the race. Never ones to be left out of a fun race, Lester and I campaigned for a spot on the team. Really they were short a few people, so we were accepted as two warm bodies to complete the required 12 team members.

The oh-so fun part - other than the endorphin kick from the pain of running the equivalent of 3 10Ks and not sleeping in 24 hours - is the three of us will be together in a van that two of our other sisters will be driving. Five of the 7 of us together! In one van! It's going to be so much fun! I kind of feel bad for the other runners in our van.

And this trip gets even better. The last time the seven sisters were together was the last time I was in Arizona. It's looking very hopeful that we'll be together again while I'm in town. Everyone has crazy schedules, so we may have only one day with everyone in Arizona at the same time. But if all goes as planned we'll be together. And that's all that matters.

In mind of keeping things real - it's not all going to be fun and games. It will be for me, but not so much for Otterpop. He will be left at home - alone and abandoned to fend for himself while forced to bankroll our expedition. Well, maybe it will be fun for him too. Alone time is rare, so this just might be good for him. Except...

The really unfortunate part is that he's traveling for work the first two weeks of February, and we're traveling the last two. Anyone for a month without really seeing their spouse and family? Poor Otter. Luckily he'll be in the care of his sister and grandma who will make sure he doesn't go hungry. Sweet Cheeks said "Daddy's going to be spending a lot of time at our cousins house when we're gone." She knows him well. He is and will be sorely missed.

p.s. I cut bangs. Really short bangs. Think something along the lines of this:

Maybe a little shorter. Otter thinks I look like my mom, and one of my friends said I look like a little girl. I'll let you decide for yourself, but I like it. I don't have a good picture right now, but I'll post later.

Toodles.

Who Needs Christmas When There's Laundry Day?

Rotating laundry today brought about so much excitement from the girls you'd have thought it was Christmas. Of course it was their laundry that was coming out of the dryer, but with practically everything that came out there were shouts of excitement - "OOOOh Pink Blankie!" "Oooh Monkey Jammies!" "My Doggie Shirt!" And so on. It was pretty funny.

Then I realized it wasn't too long ago that  I, too, was excited about laundry. See, there are lots of things that can motivate me to do laundry. A lack of clean unmentionables, for one. But laundry is pretty much one of the things I hate most about keeping house. It's up there with cleaning toilets. A necessary evil.

However, a few months ago we had to get a new washer/dryer set. It's a long story how that came about, but needless to say we had been convinced that the only way to go was with a spiffy High Efficiency kind. The day the set arrived you'd have thought it was Christmas for me. I couldn't wait to do a load of laundry. The fact that there were about 15 loads waiting could have had something to do with it, but I now had a washing machine that sung to me. Literally. It's really the bell to alert you when a load is finished, but I suppose it's the manufacturer's way of helping us whistle while we work.

Fast forward to now: The joy of laundry day was fleeting and the novelty is completely gone. Although, I am happy to have a washer/dryer that not only works but even saves us money. And I do smile a little when I hear it singing.

Mmmm.....Butter.

Julia Child once said "one can never have too much butter." At least that's what she said in the movie "Julie and Julia". We all know how accurate movies are, so it's got to be so.

Apparently someone in my family agrees and would like to eat it by the cube. I thought it was the little one, but the big one fessed up. Not Otterpop. The other big one.

Anyone need a monster to come visit for a while? May subsist on a diet of butter and not a whole lot else.

Tripping Over My Own Feet

I'm a bit of a klutz. I can't tell you how many times I've been walking along and out of the blue stumbled. Not even over a crack in the sidewalk, which would be pretty bad in and of itself. Nope, just my feet.

Not only do I trip over myself, any sport involving balls threatens to give me a coronary. A debilitating lack of eye-hand-coordination - plus the fact that I'm a klutz that trips over my feet - has cursed me since the time I was a girl. I still have nightmares of volleyball in 7th grade P.E. I eventually got over the fear of my feet and proudly call myself a runner. I can't say the same for balls. Overcoming my fear of them, that is.

It's kind of the same with yoga. When I started practicing yoga while in collage I fell over many, many times in the balance postures.  I hated them, yet I found an inner drive that pushed me through. Soon they became my favorite poses. In fact, (tooting my own horn here) I am often one of only a few people in a yoga class that go deep into those postures.

All this has given me inspiration for the new year. Those pesky resolutions and all. You see, there's been a bit of balance lacking in my life lately. The figurative kind. I think I've already established the physical kind has been lacking for years. Most of 2010 was out of whack. I was either in manic mode making sure my life was close to perfect, or a slug. Hence the reason The Blog was neglected for pretty much all of December. Maybe that was just the holidays that got to me. It's gotta be the holidays because I was definitely out of slug mode my then.

I know I'm certainly not the only person that struggles with the concept of a balanced, yet fulfilled life. After all, "Balance" seems to be the catch phrase of our generation. The ideal that pretty much no one can attain. It's kind of annoying. Yet as with all things cliché there is more than a grain of truth.

It seems that we are expected to be perfect in all we do. At least that's what we tell ourselves. Stop me if you've heard this. Yeah, thought so. I won't elaborate. I'll just say that as hard as I try to prevent external forces from derailing my personal progression and happiness it's pretty much impossible.

If running and yoga have taught me anything it's that it takes work to get better, and that you can only be as good as You can be. There will always be someone better and worse than you. So I've made resolutions. Most of which really aren't all that new. All of which will hopefully guide me to the happy equilibrium of self satisfaction with the desire to do and be more.

I have a sneaky suspicion that my list is a bit on the aggressive side which is what tends to get me in this situation anyway. At least it is being viewed with a fresh set of eyes. And that gives me hope.

So heres to a new year and new goals. And no. Overcoming my fear of a ball is not on that list.