tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57550827290638217462024-03-18T21:36:51.586-07:00Postcards to ParisStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-46654541395885156432016-06-15T21:59:00.001-07:002016-06-15T21:59:33.127-07:00In The Swimming PoolOn the fifth grade field trip to the local swimming pool:<br />
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"Today was awesome. I passed the swimming test. We played basketball, volleyball, and had pizza. Also, girls are so cute."<br />
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"Oh yeah? Was it their swim suits that made them extra cute today?"<br />
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"No, it was the way their hair flowed all around them in the water."<br />
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-33079257166598676112016-05-04T23:19:00.000-07:002016-05-04T23:22:06.035-07:00Wisdom of The Ages"Mom you need to tell me when you're getting angry"<br />
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"Seriously, can't you tell? Don't you know it's safe to assume that I will become angry with your repeated disrespect and disobedience?"<br />
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"But Mom in those times I'm too busy dealing with my own emotions, I can't also manage to understand yours too, so you have to tell me."<br />
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"So even though all indicators would tell you that I am getting mad, you want me to stop and announce it to you?"<br />
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"Yes, and please make it a little bit shocking."<br />
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"Huh? Like I should yell obscenities at you or what?"<br />
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"You know how if you want to stop a bully you have to shock them by yelling "STOP" sort of in their face? That shocks them and and makes them realize what they are doing and then makes them stop what they are doing. That's basically what you need to do to me."<br />
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"How about if I give you a smack, would that also work? Maybe a shock collar?"<br />
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"Yes, those would work too."<br />
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-3535288982424395692015-02-21T21:26:00.001-08:002015-02-21T21:26:41.669-08:00What I Know For SureThese last weeks have been filled with so many questions, grief, confusion, sadness, and anger. It won’t be the answers that ever quell the pain, they aren't ours to have.<br />
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What I know for sure is that Mark was a generous person and a good friend. He would go out of his way to help people, with little in return. He passionately wanted to bring peace to those with loved ones on the other side, he wanted to share his spiritual gifts and help others develop theirs.
He was the man with the beautiful handwriting and addressed envelopes to Shaun with funny pet names like “Shaun Poo-Diddy Hughes” or most commonly “Spock ”.<br />
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Like most of us, his life held many contradictions. He showed the world confidence and ego, but was easily humbled. He could be secretive and sometimes impatient, but when he chose to, he shared of himself deeply. He had pretty good financial instincts, yet bought lottery tickets with the real belief he would win. He enjoyed the dream of what could become of great winnings--from companies to communities; he and Shaun were going to change the world.<br />
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Mark was smart and one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. I will miss the levity he brought into our world. He loved music and guitars. I often picture him in a sea of yellow rain slickers at a Rolling Stones concert, in the pouring rain many years ago. Shaun and Mark shared many experiences over their 25 year friendship—concerts, skiing, roller blading, practical jokes, dreams, the occasional mind meld, and lots of laughter.<br />
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What I know for sure is Mark loved his son, no questions there, none at all.<br />
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Mark, you are missed, you are loved. We wish you rest and peace.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-22892404832340992512014-10-09T22:34:00.002-07:002014-10-09T22:34:49.393-07:00HomeworkSeriously? Of all the pictures to illustrate our desert climate, this is what he chooses? I'm pretty sure we should have just let it go to school. I'm not sure which was better the look on Shaun's face when he brought it to me, or Nate's when the explanation clicked.
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-28587976432112196342014-10-08T21:02:00.001-07:002014-10-08T21:02:36.888-07:00Miss Manners"Mom, you may as well stop trying to teach me manners, I'm going to have to learn them from my future girlfriends who leave the table in disgust."Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-3850849765398615622014-02-20T21:06:00.000-08:002014-10-08T21:06:47.266-07:00Distinction"I feel like I will be moving from my home to a house."<br />
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-56085212661265981942014-02-09T23:11:00.002-08:002014-02-09T23:11:38.391-08:00Change"I'm sad, usually I'm happy when I go down and see all the balloons and this time I wasn't." Nate age 9 <br />
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-86438890001913158392013-10-30T22:43:00.000-07:002013-11-05T22:47:25.767-08:00Perseverance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We three took on Bates Nut Farm on our own this year. Gorgeous day with the all the usual festivities, save the ponies. They were there, but Nate said he was done with them; he only rides horses now, thank you very much.</div>
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After the tractor ride, rock climbing, frisbee painting, and tri tip eating; finally, it was time to choose our squash.</div>
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The rule is always the same, you can choose any pumpkin, as long as you can pick it up and put it into the wheelbarrow.</div>
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And so began our journey across the picked through patch.</div>
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It turned out to be a longer than usual afternoon.</div>
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Complete with a lost and later (thankfully) found cell phone.</div>
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Have I ever mentioned that when Nate puts his mind to something, there's not much that can dissuade him from his goal?</div>
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Most of the time, it's a beautiful thing.</div>
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I spend more time negotiating than is probably wise.</div>
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My last negotiation cost me a new betta fish, but landed me two free weeks of pet feeding and poop pick up with nary a complaint.</div>
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I became fearful that this negotiation was going to land us in the hospital for a hernia, but I hung back and let him do his thing. I busied myself losing my phone and looking for the perfect butternut speciman; slightly overripe and sweet, but not, you know, rotten.</div>
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I was told several times, "this was not the time for photos".</div>
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There aren't many times that are the time for photos it seems.</div>
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I have to negotiate for those too.</div>
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I'm pretty sure he indulged me a few because he was working out his own negotiation.</div>
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There was no way this child was not going to get one of those "Big Mac" pumpkins in our wheelbarrow.</div>
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He knew all along that he wasn't going to pick up the pumpkin he wanted.</div>
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He also knows what suckers we are.</div>
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Sometimes I'm too easy, sometimes too difficult and sometimes just crazy.</div>
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But I'm pretty okay with flexing the boundaries in response to hard work and perseverance. Plus, you should have seen his face.</div>
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It was pretty fantastic.</div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-58703690624430411762013-09-25T23:10:00.003-07:002013-09-25T23:10:37.758-07:00Boy to Boy<blockquote>
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"You may be scared, but you're also brave"</div>
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Nate, age 8 </div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-77107484821617220962013-08-05T22:41:00.000-07:002013-08-05T22:41:58.722-07:00Walking and TalkingIt's been about a year ago that Nate told me I was the best mom a kid could ever have, except his wife of course. Sheesh, not even a Momma's boy when he was seven, I must be doing something wrong.<br />
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A few weeks ago we were coming home from walking the dog and he proceeded on down the alley on his bike as I put Cooper in the fence. <br />
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"Honey, are you going to ride in the alley for awhile?" No response.<br />
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"Yo Nate, I'm going in to make dinner, are you going to stay out here?" No response.<br />
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"Nate, if you're going to stay out you need to answer me and tell me you'll be on the lookout for cars."<br />
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Finally he looks up, hits the brakes on his old bike too hard, lunges forward, looks up at me, and goes down.<br />
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Somehow, I feel responsible and run over to him, and try to figure a way to untangle him from the bike. I don't have the heart to tell him to get himself up as I have been doing lately in an effort to help him break the habit he has of just laying there when he goes down. I'm repaid with kindness:<br />
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"You're the worst, it's all your fault. You're the worst mom ever."<br />
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After cleaning him up and having dinner, the storm seemed to have settled so I took a chance, "Hey, why do you suppose you were saying those things to me when you fell on your bike earlier?<br />
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"You know, because you distracted me and made me fall by talking to me and you know, I was panicked and didn't know what to do, so of course I blamed you.<br />
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Today we walked at sunset and he talked and talked about all the things we should do every day, or every week. We should go on a long twenty mile bike ride every weekend and we should take Cooper on a long hike every day. I suggested a walk around the neighborhood might have to do most evenings, he swooned and said, "Yeah, then you and Dad can take walks in the moonlight together."<br />
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"You know, I think you're gonna make someone a good husband someday."<br />
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"So you think I'm gonna get married?"<br />
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"Sure, if that's what you want."<br />
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"Well I have four girls who like me and seven who don't, so I need to get to work practicing to make more girls like me."<br />
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"You have plenty of time for that. Plus, remember it's not just about whether they like you, it's whether you like them. In fact, when you get older and start dating, that's what it's all about. Learning the qualities you most like and those that you don't. Eventually, you'll meet someone that has most of the qualities that you like and then maybe you'll decide to get married."<br />
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"I know Mom", he says, "but mostly it's up to the girls, because if they decide they like someone, they just dress up all pretty, and basically they've built themselves an arrow."<br />
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-91987871876086549602013-06-23T23:31:00.000-07:002013-06-23T23:34:43.502-07:00It's Summertime!We are two weeks into summer vacation and Nate and I are still putting together our Summer 'hit list', but we've also marked a few things off the list as well. As I've encouraged him to keep up some writing during vacation, it occurred to me that I should revisit my little corner of the blogosphere.<br />
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There is much to catch up on, but with Gramma in Paris, it may be best just to jump in with a tidbit of the day. Nate is heavy into riding his bike these days and has gotten pretty proficient on the fancy bike gifted to him by Grandpa, with gears and everything. Best of all, he gets to ride with Grandpa on a regular basis and he's motivated all of us to take some family rides as of late.<br />
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Yesterday, Grandpa, Shaun, Nate and I rode around Tidelands Park and Coronado for a cool ten miles. It was overcast and breezy, perfect morning for a ride.<br />
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Today, Nate was all about his cousin Harper this and Harper that. We spent the day running errands and preparing for a quick camping trip next weekend. He was relentless with his plan to ride the trolley, then the Coaster and finally for the last leg to my sister's house in Ventura, there would be a taxi ride. Unless of course we wanted to save a few dollars, then he would make arrangements with Aunt Terry to pick us up. "If I ask her, she will do it you know." <br />
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"Will Dad be going on this trip with us?" <br />
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"No, because that will cost too much money and besides, I <i>calculated</i> that I only spend two to four hours with you per day during the week, so I need to spend more time with just you." Great, so I'm not the only one counting... <br />
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Nate begrudgingly agreed to come with Cooper and I for a walk when I reminded him that he could mail his letter to Harper along the way. During the walk, the plan changed. "Mom, I am waking you up when I wake up tomorrow morning and we are going for the bike ride of our lifetime. Mom, can you keep up with me? The fastest we went yesterday was 19 mph and we have to go about 335 miles so I think we will get there in about 5 days." Planes, trains and automobiles were sounding spectacular about right now. <br />
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"Mom, can I trust you to tell me the right way to go? Other than that you can not say anything, you can not try to talk me out of it or say no. Just follow my wheel, no words, only follow. We will have the trip of our lifetime. Actually Mom, I think it would be better if Siri gave me directions, you just be quiet and follow my wheel, just follow it okay Mom?" <br />
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"Ok." <br />
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"Mom, only speak if you want to say what a good time we're having, or if I ask you a question, then you can answer." <br />
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-39964463541853266882012-03-25T21:07:00.000-07:002012-03-25T21:07:17.588-07:00Gone Fishin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYP3FCOjWj8vGqCu2T42wZKoMAc7zj21gqVjjF-Sd9JeUpM5Ia96Qh0AY0XCWBvI3SOt0ZnZGKmPxVf_tHPvwblMUnWIeqRf3tSe4C2Fd0tLrtju_DPKLyifFrJ6fSFn_pIk94xMLFvM/s1600/img_1702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYP3FCOjWj8vGqCu2T42wZKoMAc7zj21gqVjjF-Sd9JeUpM5Ia96Qh0AY0XCWBvI3SOt0ZnZGKmPxVf_tHPvwblMUnWIeqRf3tSe4C2Fd0tLrtju_DPKLyifFrJ6fSFn_pIk94xMLFvM/s400/img_1702.jpg" /></a></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-66126013626400503392012-03-23T00:56:00.004-07:002012-03-29T06:45:51.685-07:00Camping 101, aka Hell WeekA successful camping experience is really no problem at all. Simply follow the Boy Scout motto, “be prepared” and the joys of outdoor living are yours.<br />
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It’s helpful if the weeks prior to your trip are filled with too damn many places to go, do, think about and deal with. Do not take heed when your friends reschedule the camp site next to yours because too much is going on. Nah, you got this, how hard could it be, really? <br />
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Clear your mind of other responsibilities before focusing on recreation. The first order of business is to plan for the fact that your business partner will be in Hawaii for the week and a half preceding your virgin camping trip. This will give you the opportunity to hone both your organizational skills, and your patience. You can consider your newfound commute between offices as ‘me time’.<br />
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There are two birthday parties and a Farmer’s Market that also need attending. You decide this is the perfect day to take your one year old puppy to the market for the first time. If not now, when? You’re sure the other shoppers won't mind his barking, his long tangling leash, or his wild eyed owner who might have just dropped the leash and walked the other way if her son were not there complaining how hungry he was. Determined to acclimate the dog to urban life and feed the child, you decide a sit down restaurant is a good idea. You could have brought less imaginative treats, but you are thankful for the bag of asparagus from the market to keep the dog busy at least till your lemonade and Advil arrive. The sound of your constant directions are tiresome especially to you, so you try to stop speaking. Listening becomes a challenge, all the listening makes you want to spear your own eyeball with an olive fork. You listen to the two yappy rat-dogs three tables over yip at every passerby; you listen to your child analyze and question why the waiter gave him more bubbles than lemonade and you more lemonade than bubbles; and best of all the lovely couple that won’t stop telling you all the benefits of, not only their golden retriever, but yours as well. It does not escape your notice that they cue their dog to stick its nose in people’s laps that clearly do not want to dine with a strange dog’s face in their crotch. You are also not amused by all the people entertained by your asparagus eating dog, nor are you amused by the lackadaisical waiter who later suggests you leave him a 50% tip…”Yes, I want my change and you will now get less of it for being a presumptuous jerk and for putting too damn many bubbles in my son’s lemonade for god’s sake!”<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNFhkZyl6M74cnlPDmW0tLtZMl9j88t7JoyXEAtNndhCobtV_lUr-Qo_B6SGWBIOTLQ4FY1XcXJG1HMPAisf-yzjJ8HlPEGDyRTbTweEoIf-Vo67A4JPRRX8At9RD1CwCmYruYvK24sCo/s1600/_1010551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNFhkZyl6M74cnlPDmW0tLtZMl9j88t7JoyXEAtNndhCobtV_lUr-Qo_B6SGWBIOTLQ4FY1XcXJG1HMPAisf-yzjJ8HlPEGDyRTbTweEoIf-Vo67A4JPRRX8At9RD1CwCmYruYvK24sCo/s400/_1010551.JPG" /></a></div>Next, you realize that the Variety Show your seven year old has signed up to perform in is in six days. He and a friend are to put on a three minute magic show. Three minutes is not a very long time for many things; three minutes is an excruciating amount of time for a magic show when you know exactly no magic. Your husband thinks it’s great that you relinquished the responsibility of the show, but when you relinquish a job to no one, you're pretty sure that’s called shirking not relinquishing. Your mind races, your boy is standing on the old wooden elementary school stage, overcome with fear and unpreparedness. He faces the audience squarely, squinches up his face, throws his head back, and cries in front of the whole school. His confidence, his courage is shattered and he withdraws...forever. You decide not to let his life be ruined at age seven. You decide the best thing is for him to quit and be done with it. He refuses; part of you feels proud of his perseverance and the other part of you does not want to deal with this at all. You write a script, learn a couple of magic tricks, organize rehearsals with his partner, threaten to make him quit, yell, cry, get talked off the ledge, get the music, change the whole thing a time or two and shriek that everyone start having a good time right this minute. Your head is pounding.<br />
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You both learn a lot. He learns exactly how crazy his mother is, a couple of magic tricks, and that he still likes being on stage. You get your magic socks blown clean off when he tells you flat out, “It’s like you care too much Mom, it’s like it’s your show. I want your help, but not in front of my friends and not too much.” Seriously. You try to heed his words because he is right. You give, and he follows, your last advice to take a deep breath when the curtain starts to open, have a good time and his audience will have a good time too. (Thanks Sam!) He did, they did, and you are so proud and happy for him.<br />
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You get a job offer midweek from the client whose office you’ve been occupying for the last month and a half. It’s a decent offer but requires the breakup of the business partnership that you’ve had for over sixteen years. Your little niche in the mortgage industry is quickly fading, a regular job is tempting, and no amount of Advil can take away the pounding in your head.<br />
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Your husband takes on the Pinewood Derby duty with your son, the big race which is to take place two days after the Magic Show and right in the middle of your camping weekend. You aren’t going far; it’s no trouble at all to leave the camping fun for the big car race. The Pinewood Derby is an annual Cub Scout activity in which the boys craft a car out of a block of wood the size of a brick, and then race them on an official track with all the other Cub Scouts. Luckily, most of the work on the car was done a few weeks prior. Your husband practices great restraint and only summons the boy to work on the car when you are far, far away. He is correctly fearful that you are going to blow at any moment.<br />
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The week includes the regular commitments of work, school, soccer, chess and swimming. You only forget swimming. There is a Recognition Ceremony to attend which may or may not have lasted 42 hours. Life around the office is chaotic with intermittent internet and phone connections due to a major office move and change of phone systems. Clients are outraged at your inability to get everything completed in the midst of it all. Your husband works into the nights cleaning up the trailer and getting it ready for your first time out. The moon is approaching its fullness and with it, your hormones are on full tilt. <br />
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You're pulled from Crazy Town and thrown straight into darkness at the end of the week when you learn that a good friend’s ex husband took his own life. They have (had?)two adult children. Your friend is a positive, thoughtful soul and found the one bit of generosity in his act, “fortunately he chose the right type of weapon, there was only what looked like a bruise to the forehead”. Her kids cannot be okay, she is not okay. You don’t know what to say, how to comfort, your head pounds. You think about the desperate times we live in, how many people are in real struggle, how the unyielding business of survival disallows so much of what is critical to our well being.<br />
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You don’t feel much like campingStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-35438169553520093312012-01-19T22:34:00.000-08:002012-01-19T23:25:32.695-08:00Good Morning Sunshine<em><strong>630am</strong></em><br /><br />Me: Good morning, Nate. Please stop working in the office and go get dressed for school so we can walk Cooper before breakfast.<br /><br />Nate: Okay, but, Mom, I didn't want to tell Sam the advice from that slip of paper yesterday, (her fortune cookie indicated she would receive important advice from a child) but now I'm going to mail her this (bullet pointed list):<br /><br /><em>Inmportant edvice</em><br />*be peaceful<br />*Use less oil<br />*check your smoke detectors<br />*Have more fire drills<br />*Walk (Cooper) more<br />*Walk more (you)<br />*have communitty warnings louder<br />*be thuoghtful<br />*obey the golden rule<br />*obey laws and rules<br />*don't wake your mom up! ("this one is for Jarrah.")<br />*wake your mom up if a passout<br />*don't choose to live in Jail.<br />*don't choose to shoot.<br />*have choosing freinds (meaning have lots of friends.)<br />*Have Home SECUIRTY<br /><br /><strong><em>7:30am walking the dog</em></strong><br /><br />Nate: Mom, do you think you will ever decide what religion you are?<br /><br />Me: I don't know, I see great Truths in several of them. <br /><br />Nate: Well, we are Jewish and Christian. You know, because we celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah. Eva doesn't believe in God, but I do, and I believe in Jesus Christ. I'm confused though, how is Jesus Christ the son of God, but Mary was married to that other guy? And how did she know she had a baby in there anyway?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqQs7_MXs67aXyA19_-Y-CbPfXULOqNLsUzQHOr5LsOUYM_5o-DC8C5aFppyiDKQsguw6weEXM87sM4fKpx9HLPIFBCtClKu3GInEBDqdanFqQCosb8c5SYXGF6edUIXETh7q9EKkUbk/s1600/img_1031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqQs7_MXs67aXyA19_-Y-CbPfXULOqNLsUzQHOr5LsOUYM_5o-DC8C5aFppyiDKQsguw6weEXM87sM4fKpx9HLPIFBCtClKu3GInEBDqdanFqQCosb8c5SYXGF6edUIXETh7q9EKkUbk/s400/img_1031.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699603983959106610" /></a><br />Me: Stories from the Bible can be confusing; there are lots of miracles that really have no logical explanation. <br /><br />Nate: I am not going to celebrate Islam because I am not kissing a stone, and going to that place would cost a lot of money, so I'm not going. I would rather go to France.<br /><br />Me: Cooper, quit pulling me...yes, honey, Mecca would be a long way to go wouldn't it?<br /><br />Nate: I think we might also celebrate Hinduism because you believe in Shiva and I believe in that elephant with four arms. But let's not celebrate the part that we can't pick our own jobs and the part about the slaves coming from someone's feet. Buddhism (pronounced booty-ism) is better for that part, but I am <em>not</em> shaving my head and I <em>will</em> shake my booty.<br /><br />Me: Shake, shake, shake...shake, shake, shake; shake your booty...That sounds good, did you bring a poop bag?<br /><br /><em><strong>745am Breakfast and packing lunches</strong></em><br /><br />Nate: Mom, how come white people were better than colorful people? (MLK holiday has been prominent in his awareness this year.)<br /><br />Me: They weren't, Buddy. The people that thought so were wrong.<br /><br />Nate: Then how come Martin had to go to jail? Did Rosa also go to jail? Cooper is kinda like Rosa because he doesn't do what he's told either.<br /><br />Me: The laws were different and wrong about segregation back then. Cooper, on the other hand, needs some basic manners, regardless of his color or breed.<br /><br />Nate: How do guns kill, Mom?<br /><br />Me: I think we need to wake up your father. Did you see what I did with my coffee?<br /><br />Nate: How do they, Mom?<br /><br />Me: If a bullet enters a body, it could pierce a vital organ like a heart, causing it to stop working which would then cause death. Please drink your milk and clear your dishes.<br /><em><strong><br />830am </strong></em> <br /><br />Me: Okay, teeth and hair then you have "free choice" till it's time to go to school. Maybe you'd like to watch some TV.<br /><br />Nate: When I grow up, I am getting rid of all the guns. If we need to have a war, then we will use points instead of guns. How do you know when a war is over anyway?<br /><br />Me: I think the points system is a great idea...Shaaauuuunnn...<br /><br />Nate: How do you know, Mom?<br /><br />Me: When both sides are ready to compromise. Where is your father? Is Johnny Test on? I have to get ready for work.<br /><br />Sometimes I’m exhausted by the time the spray of the shower hits my face in the morning. Nate is a morning person, and he’s pretty much turned me into one too over these last (almost) seven years. I do love the very occasional morning that I am up first and get a cup of coffee in the dark and quiet solitude. I had such a morning recently, it was lovely but the best part was when my sleepy boy finally came down the steps and silently crawled into my lap for a long snug. It reminded me of the first time he slept through the night. I was wide awake at the normal 5am and so wired and excited he had slept, that I couldn’t go back to sleep myself. Plus, I missed him.<br /><br />I am a lucky, lucky mom to get to be home and hang with my boy every morning. As much as it may wear me out at times, I'm honored and grateful to hear all the many directions his brain is moving. Maybe I'll figure a way to stop nagging him one of these days. Because really, it’s no wonder he can’t put his shirt on the proper direction the first time, he’s got a lot on his mind.<br /><br />The luxuries in our lives have been far curtailed, but this one, this time together is one I'll hold onto for as long as I can.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-82703164214623150802012-01-16T12:00:00.000-08:002012-01-19T23:09:29.707-08:00MLK"We have no morally persuasive power with those who can feel our underlying contempt for them."<br /><br /> Martin Luther KingStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-16390744741089480752011-12-22T11:35:00.000-08:002011-12-24T19:51:50.139-08:00The Reason for the Season, Deconstructed"Mom, Hanukkah is better than Christmas."<br /><br />"Why is that?"<br /><br />"Because if you celebrate Hanukkah you get presents for eight days."<br /><br />"Yes, but you usually get more than one gift also, you just get them all in one day."<br /><br />"Okay, but I'm celebrating both."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh48jzeoa949vAmjNo43l835nsgVZo_9iNURSl26JNRE4F5jsAB8EL3udR6QHHykcemxSxa0ElrcXcaUTGV7Qkpb8ysv7TeLjxy3zVgow3I9JSTWUnzmomcYEbdJ3QyMuw1DSd7cQxsy6Y/s1600/img_0819.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh48jzeoa949vAmjNo43l835nsgVZo_9iNURSl26JNRE4F5jsAB8EL3udR6QHHykcemxSxa0ElrcXcaUTGV7Qkpb8ysv7TeLjxy3zVgow3I9JSTWUnzmomcYEbdJ3QyMuw1DSd7cQxsy6Y/s400/img_0819.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689222203914094610" /></a><br />One week later:<br /><br />"Mom, Hanukkah is better than Christmas."<br /><br />"Why is that?"<br /><br />"Because Hanukkah is about freedom, and Christmas is just about Jesus' birthday, don't you think freedom is more important than a person's birthday?"<br /><br />"Generally, yes I do. Some people also believe Jesus was the greatest teacher that ever lived."<br /><br />"Yeah, the greatest teacher who ever lived...<em>so far</em>."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrj_lzTQPEYt-Ac2VthLRzLuEOH49rlPjxND_G-CRFVArEukvrLNFJNyxMF22OgxSR5KheZxqZX6IVXq1JxXSNJ4zF2BaiP0FQHbepC_gVFXh2zpXmNT5-YI2Ds-vZ3y1MYpnF4c5gMNQ/s1600/img_0927.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrj_lzTQPEYt-Ac2VthLRzLuEOH49rlPjxND_G-CRFVArEukvrLNFJNyxMF22OgxSR5KheZxqZX6IVXq1JxXSNJ4zF2BaiP0FQHbepC_gVFXh2zpXmNT5-YI2Ds-vZ3y1MYpnF4c5gMNQ/s400/img_0927.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689222205802321474" /></a><br />"By the way, Mom, what does Santa Claus have to do with Jesus' birthday anyway?"<br /><br />"Frankly, I haven't a clue."Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-14405862964769856462011-12-17T16:03:00.000-08:002011-12-18T09:26:18.878-08:00Tis the Season, for Letters!Santa has his work cut out for him this year.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEhv0z9Wzs9KZptOp2tpr3WFnEbW1MGJGXJp-FpDUeWB3YMHr8teaFAb1W6vGYhPBStCdjbkyq1oItEYGktte3usGm6cY357LWITH9zDsnwlKmL-19Uaz7p85t4Df7dzI86pOxsZUSZE/s1600/img_0794.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEhv0z9Wzs9KZptOp2tpr3WFnEbW1MGJGXJp-FpDUeWB3YMHr8teaFAb1W6vGYhPBStCdjbkyq1oItEYGktte3usGm6cY357LWITH9zDsnwlKmL-19Uaz7p85t4Df7dzI86pOxsZUSZE/s400/img_0794.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687252575294917602" /></a><br /><br />Dear santa,<br /><br />I'd Like: a tv, a radio, a gas stacin, a real car. $10000000000000000000.55, a horse, a cow, a chicken, a rooster, birds, a lab 2000 feet under ground and a elavator to go there. now faint! a radio stacion, a code bar, everybody that isn't felling good to fell better, the pepole that are in pain to fell better.<br /><br />Nate<br /><br />*******************<br /><br />Dear rudolph,<br /><br />wich story is true? the movie? the origonal? the song? the other storys? a whole other story? Did you pull Santas slay? What is your xmas list? Is your nose actully red? the storys about you are good. merry flight.<br /><br />Nate<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfXgTmrlELUimPB-cfJabs8ygOPdZfjx_Lx-6Ax9PLE6Tw_lyPMGtzD6gRB18Ur6kOLp8ZXGEx_dvrvWwSGynEOX-J2n6ClkLoSesRW7Eejkn_QUXKmS1fKxHpU-I4YR8QkwVk8AZUZhw/s1600/img_0785.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfXgTmrlELUimPB-cfJabs8ygOPdZfjx_Lx-6Ax9PLE6Tw_lyPMGtzD6gRB18Ur6kOLp8ZXGEx_dvrvWwSGynEOX-J2n6ClkLoSesRW7Eejkn_QUXKmS1fKxHpU-I4YR8QkwVk8AZUZhw/s400/img_0785.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687315396739197650" /></a>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-72274148080482000532011-11-19T20:14:00.000-08:002011-12-22T23:51:37.350-08:00She said, He said"I'm starting to lose my patience."<br /><br />"It's okay, just caaalllmmm yourself down."<br /><br />Good thing I have him coaching me through the tough times.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSXnl-SMCRuNeyYwkpqqKPZd0F2ZpKow8QaEDHtt06SDqSQd6ELV3oEUuICPKiIHEHvApntU3RFGZwv10eVEVvIkMsnBLJJEm6yVMYmEhF_wB8EUm62YSiPDXNOAJWNxlDsR5pW6v0A8/s1600/img_0465.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSXnl-SMCRuNeyYwkpqqKPZd0F2ZpKow8QaEDHtt06SDqSQd6ELV3oEUuICPKiIHEHvApntU3RFGZwv10eVEVvIkMsnBLJJEm6yVMYmEhF_wB8EUm62YSiPDXNOAJWNxlDsR5pW6v0A8/s400/img_0465.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676927838813490418" /></a>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-75373807647019877932011-11-10T20:48:00.000-08:002011-11-14T00:26:30.877-08:00"Proud to Claim the Title"<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marine_corps/6144668051/" title="Dakota Meyer - Medal of Honor by United States Marine Corps Official Page, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6196/6144668051_1cb51246b7.jpg" width="500" height="265" alt="Dakota Meyer - Medal of Honor"></a><br /><em>Medal of Honor recipient, Dakota Meyer's boots, by Sgt. Jimmy D. Shea</em><br /><br /><strong>Happy 236th!</strong>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-78553943624799862002011-10-31T22:52:00.000-07:002011-10-31T23:47:54.556-07:00"We Own Halloween"It was another fabulous Halloween trek through the neighborhood.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiS7ZZsup5MeRv40XOCDwtsWuZDoqEJTge7aVTzPkGyPPYTUIAPa6ArrP9Cm6zmQPgypwZC_-QC4Bon3R4mUG9mscD7uq1ambP6rjjn2lglTQgeF8i4-kU1cE5hVg7gjwxeRiaOo-tROg/s1600/img_0050.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiS7ZZsup5MeRv40XOCDwtsWuZDoqEJTge7aVTzPkGyPPYTUIAPa6ArrP9Cm6zmQPgypwZC_-QC4Bon3R4mUG9mscD7uq1ambP6rjjn2lglTQgeF8i4-kU1cE5hVg7gjwxeRiaOo-tROg/s400/img_0050.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669902710110337714" /></a><br />Aunt Celine had the most impressive makeup of the night, this one will go down in history right along with her leopard face.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIesMGZp9Rx72Rs97PRhBNLRjzkkEMdjnZT7J-pRfd0DLwm2BuDmrsSWloop15aFiTA29OqKXTxryDJ20Eg6MUohLdadimwklWe9L9FDDfd78t6AD_rdtugyMMIwCRG1fIeX__IfL9bOk/s1600/img_0062.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIesMGZp9Rx72Rs97PRhBNLRjzkkEMdjnZT7J-pRfd0DLwm2BuDmrsSWloop15aFiTA29OqKXTxryDJ20Eg6MUohLdadimwklWe9L9FDDfd78t6AD_rdtugyMMIwCRG1fIeX__IfL9bOk/s400/img_0062.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669902695374829122" /></a><br />We had the pleasure of the Goldstein Newmans join us for the festivities--a tradition I hope continues.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhnZpw-hLvFOjSbzHvHC6GjtQmp8NbDxNi6J3L9_dW5Rm8Catg-3CC3SgjlGhKlsFm3UyCGBj6-XVyqQCj4YVTqlpJ_bRfBDLoXVGwZ8-REHzlnEI1pWZ7yKYtb2nsz6zTxEzk97t-mAs/s1600/img_0094.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhnZpw-hLvFOjSbzHvHC6GjtQmp8NbDxNi6J3L9_dW5Rm8Catg-3CC3SgjlGhKlsFm3UyCGBj6-XVyqQCj4YVTqlpJ_bRfBDLoXVGwZ8-REHzlnEI1pWZ7yKYtb2nsz6zTxEzk97t-mAs/s400/img_0094.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669902688509702210" /></a><br />Halloween has quickly become my favorite holiday. Not only are the skeletons and pirates out in the crisp night, but also this very special kid who becomes a typical, carefree, happy six year old.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaSq3w5MQmuZhfz0b57Wa-tcCulSmMK3WUTkwEM25V1wGBuETBu38ZTkhjQMgRqgW9-mp5c1pFw_C0Ho4NiTh5lmP8vK_agawwwROFDmSFsBcdZd0ygggA9lrsUpb8jhHPVpIZFMfO74/s1600/img_0096_00.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaSq3w5MQmuZhfz0b57Wa-tcCulSmMK3WUTkwEM25V1wGBuETBu38ZTkhjQMgRqgW9-mp5c1pFw_C0Ho4NiTh5lmP8vK_agawwwROFDmSFsBcdZd0ygggA9lrsUpb8jhHPVpIZFMfO74/s400/img_0096_00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669902684358518882" /></a><br />There's also <em>running</em> and being the leader of the pack. I'm so pleased for him to experience that side of himself. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2qeVh6HbLTglmmtTPh387J0yUTCChE3eMxAh4wuZr0jqyPuvrhGQXVQy6qEnghhhcKiTi_r6h4WjYqgpxSPg4qRwHGnKsgOPRV94W1LZzYAT8KL-fTnZmiJpw-ewk2sZDckAdKWmuUw/s1600/img_0089.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2qeVh6HbLTglmmtTPh387J0yUTCChE3eMxAh4wuZr0jqyPuvrhGQXVQy6qEnghhhcKiTi_r6h4WjYqgpxSPg4qRwHGnKsgOPRV94W1LZzYAT8KL-fTnZmiJpw-ewk2sZDckAdKWmuUw/s400/img_0089.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669902713143307410" /></a><br />The running is the best.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RHLonkE-no5sp9g-AF2DVHtwaBncuDIDG7uhKh0EoKZRw6eABrytX_hE4PnqtpNCvxeJtYgPw_wzFKQp_9U7ip9caBM54sJP8_rQ04jQFOf-Zsoj_cfILT5o1hFnTLbHfZ4XaSZ0boc/s1600/img_0109_00.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RHLonkE-no5sp9g-AF2DVHtwaBncuDIDG7uhKh0EoKZRw6eABrytX_hE4PnqtpNCvxeJtYgPw_wzFKQp_9U7ip9caBM54sJP8_rQ04jQFOf-Zsoj_cfILT5o1hFnTLbHfZ4XaSZ0boc/s400/img_0109_00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669901641814470082" /></a><br />He may disagree.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8o73HZgnSB0gNRgNR13BrxrolJBlQ0aPOKqDTqmuuzSG7nIs4vAHBVuZYIqecJOnG3dUmWw5_7usy4FwVrxKF0bv2cHuoXsYuukhnnymKunR0abamVhr4T-zsv0V3LYJ-cjDejuguCEE/s1600/img_0112_00.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8o73HZgnSB0gNRgNR13BrxrolJBlQ0aPOKqDTqmuuzSG7nIs4vAHBVuZYIqecJOnG3dUmWw5_7usy4FwVrxKF0bv2cHuoXsYuukhnnymKunR0abamVhr4T-zsv0V3LYJ-cjDejuguCEE/s400/img_0112_00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669901637436111058" /></a>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-83877693908849549782011-10-21T10:30:00.000-07:002011-10-22T07:40:18.578-07:00Hmmm...When asked what surprised him most about humanity, the Dalai Lama said:<br /><br />“Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money.<br />Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health.<br />And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”<br /><a href="http://thumbs2.ebaystatic.com/m/mQz3OUTSC2xeyfPJDRzVyPA/140.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 139px;" src="http://thumbs2.ebaystatic.com/m/mQz3OUTSC2xeyfPJDRzVyPA/140.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-46061532448261387692011-10-16T21:34:00.000-07:002011-10-16T22:03:29.490-07:00Quotes of the DayOn putting his toy box back together:<br />"I'm better at electronic things and building things than you, because I'm a man and I've been practicing my whole life."<br /><br />On parenting:<br />"Just say it once, then ignore, ignore, ignore, finally I might do what you said."<br /><br />More on parenting:<br />"You scream at me and don't even treat me with care." Ouch<br /><br />On the movie "A Dolphin Tale":<br />"I emailed them and told them their movie changed my life."<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUhCf7p9hwV4TIwm_dxX2pPpMeABCgWJNcZOXNo7MWRUWuHAczMbIwuFWh3oA_mLuISzXJibXcP-cBjAfuUKBjNecP0DJJrJUgAxyN1vmNv9D-dAlVVT0Xmpcv8oV6DFuUoHsLrwYR2II/s1600/_9055638.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUhCf7p9hwV4TIwm_dxX2pPpMeABCgWJNcZOXNo7MWRUWuHAczMbIwuFWh3oA_mLuISzXJibXcP-cBjAfuUKBjNecP0DJJrJUgAxyN1vmNv9D-dAlVVT0Xmpcv8oV6DFuUoHsLrwYR2II/s400/_9055638.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664320900352313810" /></a><br /><em>First Day ~ First Grade ~ Sept 6, 2011</em>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-88572834367489505652011-10-10T20:02:00.000-07:002011-12-05T15:32:40.303-08:00Gone Fishin'"Mom, Mom, we're going fishing!"<br /><br />"Great, are you and Daddy going to have a father and son day fishing on the lake?"<br /><br />"No, you get to go too, and you and me will share a fishing pole, and we're getting a motor boat! Are you willing to cook the fish for dinner?"<br /><br />"Sure, no problem," I said, scheming my way to the fish market. No worries, quick, easy, no problem.<br /><br />Shaun, was not happy, such schemes are not in his repertoire and I'm sure he finds me derelict in my parenting duties by even considering such things. There was sighing and eyes were rolling. He was in favor of the catch and release program, while Nate was planning a full on fish fry. I quietly questioned whether this was all really a necessary conversation because wasn't it highly unlikely any fish would be in our custody anyway? More eye rolling. My lackadaisical way of going about certain things annoys him; I think because he figures he'll have to pay the price for it later. So not true, well usually not, but who's counting anyway?<br /><br />The closest thing either of us has come to cleaning a fish was the hack job that Grayson and he committed against a trout with a dull ax on the shore of Mammoth Lake a decade ago. It didn't end well, and we didn't have fish for dinner that night.<br /><br />I decided to give it one last shot with Nate in an attempt to appease Shaun. "So Nate, we're trying to figure out a plan with the fish we might catch. We have a couple of choices. We could catch them and then release them so they can live the rest of their lives swimming happily in the lake, (I almost made a fish mommy and daddy reference, but restrained myself) or we can catch them and do our best to clean and cook them, but I've never done it before so it may not go too well."<br /><br />No hesitation from the little fisherman whatsoever, "We'll kill them and eat them for dinner." Period, end of story. I liked his decisiveness and while I wasn't surprised, it still seemed slightly out of character since he likes to discuss things at length and also tends to be quite sensitive. Just this past spring we harvested the compost from our worm bin and the task was made even more tedious by Nate's need to console each and every worm he came in contact with. Thankfully, Scooby Doo is always on the ready to save me from a difficult situation.<br /><br />We gathered our supplies and made our way to the lake. We decided to take Cooper too, so I was given a reprieve from the full on fishing experience.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqw4DCi1Gtzc9nOlqnJ6pIBDftJtJuKhJZ2ZDPJOh6FEPpoUFz1Ffcj5jXv0ovRfdlEKVVF9-NrIqgjGBiZcrtP6I5W5nbKN-Oxb2pIanhRGfcmK_2M4-Y6wuTPyCQOO2Fzwd8Vzwuk2k/s1600/_1015654.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727002667048450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqw4DCi1Gtzc9nOlqnJ6pIBDftJtJuKhJZ2ZDPJOh6FEPpoUFz1Ffcj5jXv0ovRfdlEKVVF9-NrIqgjGBiZcrtP6I5W5nbKN-Oxb2pIanhRGfcmK_2M4-Y6wuTPyCQOO2Fzwd8Vzwuk2k/s400/_1015654.JPG" /></a> <br />And so they were off.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxqvom4vXFwvVOgWlE4jUi_HckfazO53BOCtDKrG6YhT1Q46cvTLXh3da3mqVln_vwPvH4pgQhZuWSwQWk81ruWCCYViDSPd2HJlDNYA8-6VFH474LUE9F3cz4rRv2pbrEJGtVtPTd9o/s1600/_1015658.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727007377534994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxqvom4vXFwvVOgWlE4jUi_HckfazO53BOCtDKrG6YhT1Q46cvTLXh3da3mqVln_vwPvH4pgQhZuWSwQWk81ruWCCYViDSPd2HJlDNYA8-6VFH474LUE9F3cz4rRv2pbrEJGtVtPTd9o/s400/_1015658.JPG" /></a><br />And we were off too, it was nearly noon and hot.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc6spfE5EQNQ_HuQYYw6exPune9756XDAKugmVO4oDY9cK1VcrkAi6xU__4X-15mpYV5VcH_WJ3KRTkb4xlEHysAIkKsWOAUzJMg1uuXKnSGz2rcFlBque32EL-26uf0V0R54BtrhdKVw/s1600/_1015659.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727012307533522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc6spfE5EQNQ_HuQYYw6exPune9756XDAKugmVO4oDY9cK1VcrkAi6xU__4X-15mpYV5VcH_WJ3KRTkb4xlEHysAIkKsWOAUzJMg1uuXKnSGz2rcFlBque32EL-26uf0V0R54BtrhdKVw/s400/_1015659.JPG" /></a><br />The lake was beautiful as ever.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvoJO0n3lAEWcAy0MCL0YEQLRAldkBgDTwqiVe8UnM97_A7uwFSCbsp11DT8Pa_xy4EGufTMeeZxtciM3WFkTnZVJTSNgE-jip57fZw-CPjxvCFvNIIlrgY4StShKKO1fxJNigiiZHWQ/s1600/_1015660.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727017049055634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQvoJO0n3lAEWcAy0MCL0YEQLRAldkBgDTwqiVe8UnM97_A7uwFSCbsp11DT8Pa_xy4EGufTMeeZxtciM3WFkTnZVJTSNgE-jip57fZw-CPjxvCFvNIIlrgY4StShKKO1fxJNigiiZHWQ/s400/_1015660.JPG" /></a><br />We chose a new path and made our way around.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcyW6a0oqBQSVS2n3WBlIkNwxQixAdkShpUWtayTMMNQfuxdgE5C5n1VSJ48kMfyrG5sTAuAGqWs_8alpYZl4al9Bnk0FQvMmfbOPE0kX12hk5y-nJGRzR9_IQL7SFrZMc2KZk27sfyg/s1600/_1015664.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727022834992786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcyW6a0oqBQSVS2n3WBlIkNwxQixAdkShpUWtayTMMNQfuxdgE5C5n1VSJ48kMfyrG5sTAuAGqWs_8alpYZl4al9Bnk0FQvMmfbOPE0kX12hk5y-nJGRzR9_IQL7SFrZMc2KZk27sfyg/s400/_1015664.JPG" /></a><br />We found the boys on the other side--fishless, thank goodness I wouldn't be learning to gut a fish on this particular day.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3kUcVb6RUJWptPNRlEWW3WMwPAjhCELgbEG1qqTWz12_51rjlcYiZASVlahCNyEZkqwmfiPnUJ9sgq2djoSP7VlgVJAaOdU0HvJ6RPbonT3dJd8un_4iVHVoaxTZoerAF-OYP-UfDgE/s1600/_1015668.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727214565425282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3kUcVb6RUJWptPNRlEWW3WMwPAjhCELgbEG1qqTWz12_51rjlcYiZASVlahCNyEZkqwmfiPnUJ9sgq2djoSP7VlgVJAaOdU0HvJ6RPbonT3dJd8un_4iVHVoaxTZoerAF-OYP-UfDgE/s400/_1015668.JPG" /></a><br />Finally, we found some shade.<br /><br />Another first done and gone.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-17824160248867549832011-10-09T21:32:00.000-07:002011-10-09T22:38:40.302-07:00FinancierSentimental kid that he is, the first three teeth he lost are in a tiny jar next to the wine glasses in a cupboard. I should clarify, by his own choice, he wanted to save the teeth rather than give them up to the tooth fairy. It's not all sentiment though, there was some mistrust that said tooth fairy might just take his teeth and give him nothing in return.<br /><br />This time, he had big plans and went for the cash. You see, at school the kids have the opportunity to open a bank account with Mission Federal with no fees and no minimum deposit requirements. Nate already has a bank account, but recently decided that he needs another one, you know--a business account for his lemonade and ice cream stands. He figured the Tooth Fairy would be as good a venture capitalist as any.<br /><br />He carefully placed the tiny tooth in an envelope and made his request, politely even, and with perfect spelling.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMg8IlBC-NiCiIRMuoLRPI2XUyyjk5QoNN3syFZm5jkLTYqqX78ZZWsYlo-4RYmkY1zJk6HM9s9Mp07wmJZp2One0deZPA2xvKxehYHpV62xuIBRgcl-2sVYl0YpNqVRf10aOTUxpGjA/s1600/_1015714.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMg8IlBC-NiCiIRMuoLRPI2XUyyjk5QoNN3syFZm5jkLTYqqX78ZZWsYlo-4RYmkY1zJk6HM9s9Mp07wmJZp2One0deZPA2xvKxehYHpV62xuIBRgcl-2sVYl0YpNqVRf10aOTUxpGjA/s400/_1015714.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661717156039007842" /></a><br /><em>my fourth tooth<br />Dear tooth fairy, please Give 5 Dollars to me please, nate</em><br /><br />He checked that envelope under his pillow at least a kajillion times, telling me during book time how nervous he was that the tooth would break through the envelope and get lost, rendering him toothless and penniless. We wondered what the tooth fairy looked like, the extent of her magical abilities, if she could defend herself against Shelby, Tesla, and Cooper; and if she was actually powered by teeth.<br /><br />At precisely 3:30am we got the news bulletin--bedside--that the tooth fairy did in fact come and she gave him exactly what he asked for.<br /><br />"Next time, I'm asking for five thoooooouuuuuuuusand dollars!"Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5755082729063821746.post-21243446821761357612011-10-08T08:00:00.000-07:002011-10-09T22:39:34.703-07:00Hello Bright Eyes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAhxSzqlDkIXwhOMPICS2b6Mirmv1sWSjSsRwa0ewL34x3CbiRRqKcTPUlfWGXoKabXkVXA9WOHz0_SUrAIKDZ_RQ3ItI6NTovqsWzD_fT4vt9xnQZ7CcMmSHuUqxTGn81arQk5kXXaI/s1600/_7054969.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAhxSzqlDkIXwhOMPICS2b6Mirmv1sWSjSsRwa0ewL34x3CbiRRqKcTPUlfWGXoKabXkVXA9WOHz0_SUrAIKDZ_RQ3ItI6NTovqsWzD_fT4vt9xnQZ7CcMmSHuUqxTGn81arQk5kXXaI/s400/_7054969.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661507644153174754" /></a><br /><em>Harper Rey ~ July 5, 2011</em>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03466195136758964634noreply@blogger.com0