Do you have a Festive Party Holiday Hat?

I love the day before a trip--I love packing and planning and getting all set to go. This morning is no exception--I'm filled with that frantic energy! So far this morning I've run my three miles, gotten everyone dressed, fed, and ready to go (which is more of an accomplishment than it sounds), vacuumed the house, gotten through a load of laundry, and baked a batch of our favorite "trip muffins" (spiced carrot raisin whole wheat. Absolutely divine). The kids have been wandering around all morning either pretending to be already en route, talking on the phone to their grandparents, or (oddly) imagining they're mermaids and I am their dead mother. A bit disconcerting. Why couldn't Ariel have had a mother around? It would make pretending so much easier in our house.

Now we're off on our errands (first stop: the ENT, who hopefully will be able to diagnose the reason behind Juliet's I-kid-you-not-four-month-long-cold). And then tomorrow on to Michigan! Hurrah!

giving thanks

During the early months of my pregnancy with Abigail, I woke up one night feeling like my skin was on fire. I'm not sure what the cause was or whether it was just psychosomatic, but when Neil turned the light on my skin was reddened and inflamed. I was convinced that the culprit was the sheets, which suddenly felt as if they were made of horsehair. I couldn't stand to be in that bed one more minute.

Without a word of remonstrance, Neil piled all the pillows on the floor, gently picked me up, and placed me in the center of the pillow pile. He disappeared to the linen closet and returned with new sheets, quickly stripped and remade the bed, then picked me back up, cradling me against his chest, and tucked me back in. I fell asleep with him gently stroking my hair and whispering to me, "It's okay...you can sleep now."

Last night I was shivering in our icy bed, realizing belatedly that the crisp cool sheets we used for summer translated into extreme discomfort in the winter. Neil saw me shivering, tenderly covered me with his own blanket, and then disappeared to the linen closet again. He remade the bed (around me and my pile of blankets) with warm flannel sheets, then held me close until the shivering stopped.

As of yesterday, I've celebrated six years of his birthday with Neil. What I've enjoyed most about the last six years is realizing the depth of his patience with and capacity to give unselfishly to those he loves. When I agreed to marry him after four weeks of dating, I was terrified by the idea of a choice based on my own judgement and so grateful for the confirmation I received from a wise Heavenly Father who knew this happy-go-lucky boy (a total opposite to my own personality) far better than I ever could. As I've grown to know Neil more fully over the last six years--learning that his favorite part of the day is the time he spends with the children in the morning, hearing him voice his unfailing appreciation for my talents, watching his attention to research and study, and knowing that my good night's sleep is due to his immediate attention to any night-time wakings on the part of the girls--I am profoundly grateful for that inspired choice I made six Octobers ago. He has a generosity and nobility of spirit that has enriched our family immeasurably.

I've always thought it appropriate that his birthday falls so close to Thanksgiving. Every day, I voice heartfelt thanks to the Lord for Neil's presence in my life.

hodgepodge

First of all, this post is doing something weird, so some of the text is a little off. Sorry about that! And I'm also turning my comments back on, since several people told me they really missed them (and to be honest, I really missed them too, and I still checked my email all the time anyway). Thanks for putting up with me while I toyed with turning them off.

Inside my house, it is Christmas. This makes me happy. In fact, it's been Christmas inside my house for several weeks. We sort of hopped right over that whole Thanksgiving thing, I guess. But this year I really like the Christmas decorations--my mantel is a wonderland of fir sprigs, pinecones, winter berries, and moose (or "meece" as I like to think of them. They belong on the list of things that it's fun to pluralize incorrectly).

Ooh! This text decided to think it's a hyperlink. Except it's not.

A Cafe Rio-style place opened up here recently. Last week, they had 50% off coupons (valid for a week) in the student newspaper. Cafe Rio is pretty much our favorite place ever...I'm a little embarassed to say we ended up eating there three times last week (for 50% off, it's hard to resist). This was a real oddity, since we rarely eat out anyway, and we ended up not only eating out too much, but eating more meat than we usually eat in two or three weeks. End result? The words "burrito" and "taco" make me feel really nauseated. Unfortunate, because Neil asked me a month ago if I would make Cafe Rio salads for his birthday (tomorrow) and I bought all the ingredients last week (before Mexican overload).

Today I felt pretty cruddy. I spent the afternoon on the couch flipping through back issues of Martha Stewart Living. I remembered that there was a cranberry sauce recipe that I'd wanted to try, and some ornament beading that I thought Abigail might be old enough for this year. And I was in need of a new gingerbread recipe (wishful thinking, since I felt/feel too awful to do any cooking). Abigail joined me, which was lovely. As much as I love looking through magazines, I enjoy it even more if someone else is looking at them with me. This is an exception to the fact that there's no way I can read a book with someone looking at it, but magazines--it's like watching a movie; it's fun to have someone look at it and comment about it with you (except I have to read the magazine by myself first). Anyway, it was fun. Juliet wandered over to the pile after dinner (Neil and Abigail were out, so it was just the two of us) and had herself some more looking fun. She's a sweetie.



And the best part of the day--while I was trying not to concentrate on how awful I felt, Neil was busy making dinner: a savory broth chock-full of chicken, onions, potatoes, and carrots. Warm, nourishing, and made with lots of love.

Are you one of the 5 people in the world who's not on board with this whole Twilight nonsense? Then you'll probably enjoy Rachel's post today as much as I did.

something's working!

Yesterday Abigail had another visit from the grad students in child development. One of the activities they did this time was to go through a bunch of vocabulary flashcards with us (they say a word, the subject points to the picture that best matches the word). I sat in the living room with one student and went through the mother set, while Abigail went through the kid set in the dining room.

Abigail's cards seemed to be taking a really long time. So when they finally said to her, "okay, just one more set!" I was a little relieved, because her patience was obviously running out (she was sitting on top of the table at that point).

Afterwards I said (ever so casually!), "So...how did she do?"

And the guy said, "Do you read to her? A lot?"

And I said, "Yeah, we read a lot--she loves books."

And he said, "How much time every day?"

And so I told him how often and how much we read every day.

And he said, "Well...I sort of lost track, but we were doing the vocabulary words for a fourteen-year-old by the time we stopped. She knows a LOT of words! It's pretty obvious that you read to her a lot--her vocabulary is very impressive."

So I spent the rest of the day in this sort of parenting glow. As Abigail would say, "I felt reeree goodnhappy!!"

language skills

Today while I rolled out tortillas for lunch, Juliet stood next to me on a chair, banging a wooden spoon alternately between the counter and her head. Each time she connected with her head, her teeny little voice said in a tone of surprise, "Oh shoot!" Except, being fifteen months old, she didn't quite have the "oo" sound down, and it sounded like the "other word," if you know what I mean.

Is it bad that I laughed a lot?

wordless wednesday

caught!

parenting fun

The final few minutes of lunch today...

One of the things that I really enjoy as a mother is not only watching my childrens' personalities unfold, but tracing similarities in their personality to mine and to Neil's. For instance, Abigail and I both love corn, but hate lima beans (Juliet, conversely, prefers lima beans, so we always pick ours out and feed them to her). Both of my kids have an incredible range of vocal noises and squeaks--as does Neil (who is famous for this in his family, and let me tell you, reading stories with him is way more fun than with me. The kids don't even bother to ask me to read How The Grinch Stole Christmas anymore, because I can't do that weird growly voice from the cartoon--not that they've ever seen the cartoon, but still. Neil has it down). Juliet and I both need very little sleep, Abigail and I bite our lips when we become upset, and I can see myself in Juliet's curls, long-lashed hazel eyes, and olive skin, while Abigail has the big puppy-dog eyes, delicate little chin, and happy grin of all the nieces on Neil's side of the family.

All that aside, one of the things that most reminds me of myself is the way my kids are glued to books. As I watched Abigail bounce off the walls as we walked out of the library today, and finally had to order her to close the book until we get to the car!!, I thought fondly of how proud I used to be of my ability to read a book while walking through the hall in second grade. I was especially proud when I mastered the ability to go up the stairs without tripping or taking my eyes off the book (and lest you think I've grown out of it, I confess that I read at stoplights on the way home from the library).

And the mealtime rules that I remember most from my childhood were 1) no singing at the table and 2) no books at the table, both of which are firmly repeated around here. But as you can see from the picture at the top of the post, if I disappear for a few minutes while things are winding down, books have magically appeared by the time I come back...

today I was feeling grumpy and mean. and like the universe was ganging up against me. While I swept the kitchen floor after lunch, I thought disgruntled thoughts about how it was totally impossible to take care of two children, take care of one house, work part-time, and still find time for myself to do anything rejuvenating. I thought about the fact that while my floor was clean, my cabinets were still covered with sticky handprints from when I made strawberry jam...in June. I almost sat down and cried over the fact that I was NEVER going to have time to clean those dang cabinets, because it was all I could do to stay on top of the rest of the things that actually mattered. So I just kept sweeping, hating those stupid jam-covered cabinets with every atom of my being, and thinking about the times I've started out to clean them and something else has happened that immediately required my attention, resulting in the jam hardening to a rock-like consistency that gives way to no fingernail.

I hated the cabinets for another hour, even while I realized how ridiculous I was being. I was mad at myself for being snarky to the kids, but was too grumpy to snap out of it. Abigail stole Juliet's blanket over and over again. Juliet burst into tears over and over again. Abigail spent a lot of time confined to her room. Juliet wailed. I wanted to wail too. I got an email from Snapfish saying that there's free shipping today only (coupon code SHIPALLFREE, if you're interested), and added "order photos for Christmas gifts" to my ever-extending list for the day. I thought about the fact that today was dance lessons, and I really didn't want to pack the kids up in the cold and hustle them out--I didn't want to go to my meeting tonight; I didn't want to review the students' drafts prior to conferences tomorrow, I just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

In short, I was just grumpy and cranky and tired.

When the kids went down for their naps, I grumpily decided that I would spend an hour with the steam cleaner my friend Heather had very generously loaned me. I thought grumpy thoughts about how the steam cleaner was required after Abigail ran into the living room with a cup of purple grape juice and twirled around--very fast.

And then I started using the steam cleaner. And I am IN LOVE. Is it totally ridiculous that my mood was utterly changed by a steam cleaner?

Because not only did it remove the yucky marks on my carpet...a few blasts of steam dissolved that rock-hard jam. I feel like the world is friendly again!! I think I need to get myself a magic steamer.

john williams/star wars tribute

So if you like John Williams, and you're remotely familiar with Star Wars...you really should watch this.

changes

Lately I've become a bit disenchanted with blogging.


When I first started my blog, more than two years ago, I used it as a substitution for the photographs and stories I'd been emailing out to my family. It was intended to be literally "the chronicle of Abigail." Gradually, it started to morph into a mix of photographic essays about what Abigail was doing, a forum for me to discuss my own personal thoughts and reflections on various topics, or the tale of what our entire family was up to.

I was pleasantly surprised to reconnect with many old friends through blogging, and I made lots of new ones. I loved reading about what everyone else was doing, and I got lots of fabulous ideas and tips from reading blogs. As I read more of what other people were writing, my entries started to be designed more to entertain...and to evoke comments. Most of you probably know the thrill of comments; it's exciting to check your email and have twenty people telling you how much they enjoyed your post and how funny it was and how they identified with x.

Lately I've been struggling with the dichotomy of writing what I really want to write about (stories from my day, what the girls are up to) and the kinds of posts that I know will get lots of comments. I don't like this feeling, and I don't like how I get a bit depressed when I write a post that I think was really great and there are only one or two comments on it. Since I can look at my stats and see how many people are subscribed to my blog via Google Reader, it's doubly depressing because I think,"Wow...forty people read this today, and they must have all thought it was dumb." I know that's not true, and I know I rarely comment on most of the blogs I read, just because I don't have time, but this is why I'm going to be turning off my comments (at first I thought I might just quit blogging and just go back to journaling privately) because I want to be writing for me and for what I want to write about, and not worrying so much about whether or not someone takes the time to comment.

I know that many of you have used the comments function in the past to ask me various questions--if a post inspires such a question, you can reach me at theirchronicles@gmail.com, which will also be posted in the sidebar from now on. And from time to time, I'll probably turn the comments back on temporarily.

Meanwhile, as sort of a last commenting hurrah, I'd love to know what magazines you read or subscribe to. We're to the point in the year where most of my subscriptions are ending, and I'm thinking about dropping some and checking out some new magazines. So what ones do you really like? Which always get read right away, which do you save, and which go in the trash as soon as you're done?

To start off the discussion, here's what I'm getting right now: The Ensign, Martha Stewart Living, Bon Appetit, Domino, Family Handyman, Reader's Digest, and Parents. Others that I've subscribed to in the past and really liked are US News and The Atlantic Monthly. When I'm at my parents' house I always catch up with their National Geographics and The Economist (no, Mom and Dad, I'm not asking for a subscription!), and I also like to check out Real Simple from the library (and I think I'm going to drop some of the others and get a subscription to that instead, because I find it much more practical than, say, Domino or Parents). My grandma often saves her copies of Gourmet and Country Living for me and I always like to look through those.

My favorite thing about magazines: if they've got a fairly big text-to-pictures ratio, they're GREAT for the treadmill. My preferred treadmill material is The Ensign, since it's mostly text (you don't have to turn the page a lot, which is very important when you're running!!). Least favorite is something big and bulky that will fall right off onto your toes. So I read a lot of back issues of the Ensign. (and if you're thinking about trying this, my experience is that you can read anything at any pace on the elliptical; reading on the treadmill requires more practice. Start off running around 12 minutes a mile and then gradually bump up your pace as your eyes get adjusted to it--through subsequent runs--I can now read comfortably at about 8 minutes a mile and start reading right off without any pace adjustment. It also depends on the length of your stride--I'm 5'7" and I can read just fine while running, but my 6'5" husband's stride results in too much "bouncing" for his eyes to focus. anyway, it makes the running go a LOT faster!)

Comment away! Last chance.

spiritual jumpstart

Want a little something to lift up your Monday morning?

My darling little sister, Mary Beth (who, incidentally, is my little Juliet Elizabeth's namesake) gave a fabulous talk yesterday on receiving comfort through the Holy Ghost. You can read it here. And really, you should. It's excellent. Really. Go read it.

perspective

"Ah! There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort." --Jane Austen

walked to the bus through sluicing rain, discovered shoes were leaking (discovery due to fact that water was welling up between toes with each step. thought nasty thoughts about clothing/shoe industry). shivered around campus and through two classes. came home, traded soaked trench coat, dress pants, silk sweater, angora socks, and knee boots for sheepskin slippers and general yoga attire. downed a mug of hot chocolate (while maniacally laughing children squeezed water out of my socks, a source of great hilarity to them) and then snuggled up with two warm wiggly little cuties and a pile of books (plus the secure knowledge that abigail's favorite crusty bread was in process and that dinner would thus be greeted with cries of joy).

happy at last. oh how i love fridays!

conversations with Abigail

Lately Abigail has been absolutely fascinated by babies, especially stories about her own babyhood (she especially thinks it's funny that she used to have diaper blowouts, since she saw some of the photographic evidence of aforesaid blowouts that we took as appalled new parents). Many of her friends' mothers are pregnant now, plus we've been taking quite a few meals to new mothers, so she's always talking about who has a baby in their tummy, whose baby came out of their tummy now, etc.

She tells me elaborate "when I'm a mommy and have a baby in my tummy" stories, so I wasn't altogether surprised yesterday when she yelled, "Look! I put my baby in my tummy!" --but I did laugh for a really long time.

And then I laughed even more when she told me "I'm going to grow up and be a racecar driver and drive a pink car with a 3 on it, except when I turn 4 it will be a 4 on my pink car, and I will have five babies and name them Abigail, Juliet, Abigail Two, and Jesus." Then when I asked her what the fifth baby was going to be named she refused to tell me.

I've said it before and I've said it again: while some days your kids will drive you crazy, the laughter they provide is totally worth it.

want to make a free photo book (via snapfish)? go here. just make sure you're not logged in to snapfish already. and yes, it's legit!

sweet child o' mine

Abigail, age 18 months

Why Abigail is the coolest kid ever (despite her threat the other day when she was mad at me to "run away! Run away to some place that is not safe!!!"):

Her perennial food request is "crunchy bread and Brie." Last night she delicately suggested, "Mommy, maybe you could mix up some crunchy bread? Right now?" A baguette-lover myself, I've been cooking on demand a lot lately on her behalf. Brie! Baguettes! My little sweetcheeks and I are ready to embark on a trip to Québec, the "bread-lovers' city" (especially after my most recent issue of Bon Appetit featured a big picture of Aux Anciens Canadiens, which is like my favorite restaurant ever. Even if I've only been there once). We are definitely going to head up there before we graduate (maybe next summer?)

And secondly, she told me she wanted some skis for Christmas. So she could "ski like Mommy." Price tag aside, I had a big silly smile on my face at the thought of our family all swooshing down the slopes together. Then I thought about the sound of the crisp groomed snow crackling under my skis, and I felt very sad about the fact that we live in Flat Land and not twenty minutes away from Sundance like we used to.

That kid pretty much rocks. I just wish she was five years older (at which point we will [hopefully!] not be on the student budget anymore), because I would so plan a Mommy-and-Abigail skiing trip. Baguettes and brie included.

since you're asking

My sewing project (in the photo on the last post) was one of these from Tiny Happy's site. Don't follow the link if your name is Mary Beth, Ruth, Elise, Rosalind, or Malinda, because you're getting one. You can see pictures of one I made a few months back here. I have had SO MUCH FUN picking out fun fabrics. Hopefully I will be able to give them up when the time comes (I did briefly toy with the idea of recovering all my throw pillows in the mishmash of crazy fun fabrics). I'll have to post a photo of all the fabrics at some point, probably when I'm done--I have one left. Maybe I'll post it after Christmas. Anyway, if you decide to make one, I made mine both longer and wider than the one in the pattern, and I used home decorating fabric to give it some real heft (I think a lighter fabric would probably be okay for the lining; I just wanted it to be able to take some weight).

On another note, today the kids and I were accompanied to the playground by three child development students from the university. They watched us play for an hour. Then they gave us $40 and asked if we could hang out again next week. I said "Sure!" and then I thought about how much I love living by a big research university.

Next time they're paying us to make cupcakes. Seriously. I love this town.

**and if you're local and you want the contact info for the study, shoot me an email. They need another 40 participants!!

camera finds

There are lots of pictures on my camera that I haven't posted (and just barely uploaded to my computer). So I thought I'd post a sampling today.

First of all, I have about twenty dishtowels. You would think this would be enough to last a week or two. So why do all twenty seem to be in the laundry with alarming regularity?



That's right. They've gone from being Juliet's preferred "cushion" in her den (formerly the laundry room, now she's moved to under the table by the fireplace) to the dress-up of choice. Or, in Juliet's case, the handkerchief, since--I kid you not--I have seen that child walk over to a clean dishtowel hanging in the kitchen, seize it, smear it across her face, and walk away.

The other day I decided to turn my decorative pie pumpkins into pumpkin puree and roasted pumpkin seeds. I was led to believe that this was a very easy and quick process.

It's not. Just buy the dang cans from the store and save yourself two hours and a lot of dishes. And some seriously burned fingers, if, like me, you're too impatient to wait for the pumpkin pieces to cool because you have other things to do.

On the other hand, there's lots of pumpkin in the freezer.

I love seeing Neil read to the kids. Love it.

And a shot of the girls heading out for Trick or Treating. My favorite part of this picture is Juliet's furtive look.

And the other day I dragged a table out so that I could sew and keep an eye on the kids playing, but did they want to play? No. They wanted to sit next to me, holding a spool of thread each, and watch the process for an entire hour (Abigail), or throw that spool of thread, climb up on the table, and try to stick their fingers under the needle (Juliet).

The end for today.

incandescence

Sometimes life's shining moments are few and far between; sometimes they follow so closely on each other's heels that it's hard to separate them.

This weekend has decidedly been the latter. Yes, there's been crying and refusals to change into pajamas and the like, but by and large it's been lovely thus far.

Holding hands with Neil while we eat fattoush (Lebanese salad) and talk about the day during our date Friday (call us sillies, but we always seize the chance to sit on the same side of the table whenever we're at dinner alone together). Wandering the crisp and chilly streets and ducking into a warm coffeehouse to inspect the glass domes of cakes and treats and souffles visible through the windows, then treating ourselves to a cup of the most decadently delicious (triple chocolate!!) gelato you can imagine, savored from the depths of the leather armchairs next to the antique piano in the corner of the coffeehouse (aahhh! the atmosphere! I was kicking myself for not having my camera!!). Strolling through the library book sale and catching my sweetheart's eye and grinning in sheer happiness. Cleaning the church this morning and seeing how eager the girls were to help--Juliet busied herself in wiping down the glass doors while Abigail proudly located each tiny trash can to be emptied in every classroom. Dipping caramel apples together. Reading some of our new treasures from the book sale. Typing this post with one child at each elbow, Juliet rubbing her head against my leg and Abigail leaning on me and saying "Mommy, I love you." Watching the girls eat a post-nap snack of hot chocolate and cinnamon toast while the wind blusters and blows outside on this frosty November day. The four of us snuggling in a mound of blankets and pillows on our bed as Neil brings in each of the girls to me after their nap. Seeing them dance joyously to the accompaniment of the Nutcracker Suite. Neil asking me (three times so far!) if we can put up the Christmas decorations tonight. Baguettes, brie, sweet potatoes, and perfectly ripened pears in the works for dinner.

Life is beautiful.

i'm in love

more from our photo shoot with the fabulous Kayli

YAY!

so whilst I'm taking a break from blogging (trying to focus on real life craziness for awhile!), Kayli is not. and she took these photos of us last Thursday, and I am so thrilled!!! Go here for a look. And seriously, isn't she awesome?! I'm really excited to see the full set--we had so much fun taking these!! (and look! a real picture of my short hair!)

soapbox #4: let us oft speak kind words

When I was twelve or thirteen, one of my Personal Progress goals was to pay someone a compliment every day for a month (this was back in the day before they revamped the system). I finished my thirty days of saying nice things, and found that I'd formed a habit.

Isn't it kind of sad when you make a special effort to look nice, or you wear a new outfit, and nobody says anything? I hate that feeling. That's why I tend to compliment-gush. It always makes me so happy when someone says something nice to me, whether it's about the way I look or something I've done or something I'm in the process of doing. It makes me feel happy and bouncy for the rest of the day--or even longer. A kind word from someone can completely turn my mood around. It makes me feel appreciated. It makes me feel like people notice the efforts I make, whether it's Abigail thanking me for "dis nice dinner," or Neil commenting on the fact that I mopped the kitchen, or someone admiring a new haircut. Being complimented is the emotional version of endorphins; it gives you a little high. A little more zest. A bit more spring in your stride.

Sadly, I think all too often we keep our kind thoughts to ourselves. How often do you think something nice and not say it--whether it's because you don't know the person, or you feel like they would think you're silly for saying it, or because you're just out of the habit? I love paying compliments to strangers because it's so unexpected; it really magnifies what you're saying because you don't even know them and thereby have an "obligation" to be nice. On the flip side of this, sometimes we forget to compliment our families and closest friends because we take them for granted.

So there's my challenge for you--go out of your way to compliment those around you, strangers and spouses alike. Make it a habit. Spread happiness and confidence wherever you go.

And on that note, what is your all-time favorite compliment? The one that really made you feel special? That you still remember word-for-word? That lifts your mood whenever you remember it, and makes you resolve to live up to it?

Please share your comments--I'm going to take a hiatus from blogging for awhile, but I would really love to read what you have to say. I need a little vicarious pick-me-up.

electing

total family score here for election day:

votes cast for obama: 1
votes cast for mccain: 1

what was the point of either of us voting, i ask you?

**note: the vote negation bothers me much more than the fact that we voted for opposing candidates, which bothers me not at all, as we've hashed out our reasons a million times. what's really grating on me is those wasted two hours in line. gone! next time, we're just going to make a pact to ignore that whole right-to-vote thing and spend two hours doing something fun.

venting

don't even get me started on how hard it is to grade with a baby on your lap...

Here is why teaching and mothering are both hard:

Nobody ever says thank you.

Everyone always wants more: more points, more feedback, more stories, more snacks. Nobody says thank you for the two hours you spend individually emailing each person their current grade, or the clean underwear folded in their drawer, or the three nutritious meals and two healthy snacks that you shopped for, prepared, and cleaned up, or the hours that you spent writing detailed feedback on their paper in hopes that they would understand what they're not doing correctly. Nobody realizes that you spend hours lying awake at night worrying about whether you're doing a good job. Or that giving a bad grade or a time-out is almost as painful (and perhaps more, in some cases) for you as it is for them. Nobody realizes that even though this is your job, a little gratitude would be nice every so often to keep you going and feel like you're doing something worthwhile that is actually making a difference in some small way. An expression of appreciation for an underpaid and under-appreciated job well done (or at least done).

Thank you for letting me get that out of my system. We'll be back to happiness tomorrow. And please, if you have a teacher or a mother in your life, or ANYONE who has done anything for you lately, would you tell them thank you?

That would mean a lot to me. And more to them. I can list--by name--the people who expressed appreciation for my classes over the last five years (seven if you count time as a TA). It mattered that much to me.

terrible threes

One of the things that we've noticed about Abigail lately is that she's really getting a grasp of other people's emotions and how to play on them. Which means it's lovely when she comes over when I'm a bit stressed and says, "Mommy, I just love you."

It's also not so nice at times. For instance, she's currently banished to her room half an hour early for naps because at lunchtime she responded to my directive to eat with her spoon rather than her fingers with the following: "You are mean. You are so mean. Daddy doesn't love you because you are mean."

So now, as you can imagine, I've got a super-high sense of my own self worth. Argh. And again feeling like I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent. I spend so much time praying for patience and understanding, but I have a really hard time not responding emotionally to things like that. I know it will get better with each kid, but I worry a lot about my first-time parenting skills when it comes to Abigail.

Saturday Night Live

I'm sure you heard about the McCain/Tina Fey QVC shopping network sketch on SNL, but if you haven't seen it, it's priceless. And if you haven't seen the Weekend Update (also with McCain) where he explains his campaign strategies, I think it's even better (the favorite 'round here: the "sad grandpa" strategy).

And as long as you're watching SNL, make sure you also watch the "Coat Store" sketch with Ben Affleck. Who wouldn't want a coat with multiple salami pouches, huh? And a yelling cone?

For SNL goodness (and a direct link to all of the aforementioned sketches, go here.

perfect

One of our recent family goals has been to really ratchet it up a notch when it comes to the Family Proclamation's counsel on wholesome family activities. To that end, we've set aside two hours every Saturday that are exclusively family time (with one Saturday a month for doing service as a family during this time).

So today we opted to take advantage of the balmy and absolutely beautiful November day by going on a bike ride at our favorite park. We got off to a late start because of some serious three-year-old battles, so we were all a bit grumpy setting out. Plus that whole Halloween candy thing (we skipped the stake trunk-or-treat because I didn't want that much candy, so we just went down one street in our neighborhood, but when we got home and everyone had a piece of candy, which is a REAL rarity around here--well, let's just say that Juliet ate three pieces of candy corn and threw up, Abigail ate a box of Mike and Ikes and said she felt "really sick in my tummy," and I ate a fun-size Butterfinger and got a killer headache. At least I felt good about the fact that we normally eat so well that when we overindulged we all feel terrible, but did that stop me from eating two more Butterfingers? Nope). Anyway, I was a little worried about whether this was going to be family fun, or fear of family.

Then we finally got everything unloaded and everyone strapped and buckled and we were off, and everything just sort of fell away. The trail was overhung with swooping arches of color--yellow, red, orange, and every shade in between. The leaves here are at the point where they're fully changed--no half-yellow, half-green--everything is flamboyantly and utterly scarlet or gold. The temperature was at that perfect point where you're comfortable in jeans and short sleeves, and the kids were happily devouring a ridiculous quantity of Goldfish. So we biked along by the dry streambed, gaping at all the gorgeous colors and light around us, and having a great time talking and laughing. We biked the length of the park and detoured to the Asian grocery store, then headed back to the car.

The way back through the park was all downhill, and there was hardly anyone else there, so for an entire mile we sped down the trail without braking or pedaling. Leaves were drifting down all around us, and the only noise I could hear was the soft crunch of the leaves and the whirring of the bike's tires against the trail. The occasional squirrel scampered across in front of us, and sunlight slanted through the trees as we rounded each new curve

And I thought, "This is it. I am absolutely, perfectly, and utterly content, right now at this very moment. I could not ask for anything more."

When we got to the bottom, I said to Neil, "That was perfect. That was sheer happiness."

And he said, "I felt the same way. Do you want to bike back up to the top and do it again?"

And I replied, "No...I want to remember the way I felt at that moment. I don't want to try it again and have it not be the same."

And he said, "I know exactly what you mean. Let's go home."

And so we did. Back to our regular lives, but uplifted and happy from those five perfect minutes in the woods where the only thing we had to worry about was rounding the next curve smoothly and avoiding the squirrels. Gazing at the achingly beautiful scene around us. Reveling in the moment without looking forward or backward or thinking about what's for dinner or what didn't get finished before we left.

When was the last time that happened to you--that you felt a single incandescent moment of pure happiness and utter contentment and peace, the feeling that everything was absolutely right in your world?

And if it's been awhile, what are you going to do to recapture it?

Really, I'd love to know.