FYI

Here's a tip:

If you're the home teacher, don't come visit on Christmas Day.

If you're the home teacher and do come to visit on Christmas Day, and notice that there is a houseful of visiting family, don 't stay for an hour.

If you are going to visit on Christmas Day and stay for an hour despite the houseful of out of town guests, don't sit with several moments of uncomfortable silence - fake some conversation.

Get in, get out, and get on your way if you must come visit on Christmas Day at all.

It wasn't that big of a deal. It's just that there were people sitting on all of the couches and it's not very polite to stretch out and read a book when there is company. But the new Dan Brown novel is pretty entertaining....

Hey Home Teacher, there are still six days left in the month. Merry Christmas. Love, nic

Merry Vacation

We came to Virginia for Christmas vacation this year. We came to enjoy the holiday with Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunt S. It's a good vacation. Just before we got into the state, there was a giant snowstorm that blanketed most of the state with several feet of snow. The kids have quickly taken to the sport of snow-sledding. They are in absolute heaven. Geoff is enjoying his sister and parents' company, as am I. It's been a delightful and slow-paced few days. The kids highlights have been sledding, the Mennonite country-side, shoveling snow off the deck (obviously snow is not a common thing for us, or this would be a chore, not a highlight!), making sugar cookies from scratch with Grandma, and staying up late watching Christmas movies.

Here's how I am enjoying my VACATION:

• 9 loads of laundry
• 24 sandwiches for lunches
• 2 trips to the grocery store
• 3 trips to Target
• 1 bed washed after an "accident"
• 6 loads of clothes dried after snow play

We'll be here for another five days. It can only get better!

As I was moving yet another load from the washer to the dryer, Mom-in-law says to me: "Boy, you have been doing laundry since you got here. Does it ever stop? This isn't normal, is it?" I said, "No, this is extra special, because I'm ON VACATION!"

It's all good. And to all a good night...

Walking on egg shells

Kindergarten started off great. Really, it did. Then a couple weeks into it, everything spiraled downward. Samy got sick with Strep Throat, then at the tail end of that, Geoff and I went out of town for an extended weekend. Since then, she has cried on the short drive to school almost every day. She says that when she goes to school, she misses me. It's very sweet and nice and all, but the child has to go to school. So, I printed up a picture of me to put in her backpack so that she could have me with her all the time. I thought it might help to go have lunch with her. When lunch was rapping up, she started to tear up and say that her throat hurt. So I explained that I couldn't come have lunch with her any more if it was going to make her sad. (Not to mention make her lie, because her throat DID NOT hurt.) The picture worked well for a while, then she said she still missed me. So we read "The Kissing Hand" book and went out and bought a heart stamp so I could put a heart on her hand every morning before school. That worked for a while, then wore off, so she started wearing a necklace with a heart locket containing a tiny picture of my face and her face. The good thing is if there is an extra hectic morning and we forget the stamp, lets say, then we have the locket and picture for backups. The kid is being sent to school with a whole lot of gear!

So the other morning, she started getting "the look" in her eyes as we were getting ready to head out the door. I couldn't take it any more. I said, "you've got your necklace, your stamp, and your picture. I just don't know what more I can do for you. You have to do your job and go to school so that I can do my job and all the things I need to while I don't have all the kids at home." I asked her if she was worried that I wouldn't be there when she was done with school and that is why she didn't want to go. She said no. I asked if there was anyone at school that bothered her and that is why she didn't want to go. No. She just misses me. Heaven help us. Samy, really, I'm not all that!!! She cowboyed up and got in the car and went. But it breaks my heart. This tiny, scrawny little girl with the quivering lip and big sad brown eyes.

To make matters worse, a couple weeks ago, at church they changed the Primary Presidency and so I will no longer be with the children. I've been in there for over 4 years. Me being in the back of the Primary room is all Samy and Maren (maybe even Logan!) have ever known. So, the first week after I was released, Samy started the sobbing during the closing song in Sacrament Meeting and pretty much refused to go to Primary. (She didn't so much as refuse as I couldn't bring myself to send the sobbing sack of bones in there.) The next week - this past Sunday, she was assigned to give the talk in Primary, so I went in with her. She asked her teacher, Gayelyn (my good friend) to help her with the talk. I think she couldn't bear to have me next to her. So Gayelyn helped her say the words she didn't know and I watched my poor little girl with the quivering lip and shaky voice. She almost lost it when she had to say the word mom. What is the deal here? I've never had a child like this. No idea what I've done or how to work through it! She was able to stay in primary as I snuck out the back door when she wasn't looking. It's killing me!



Not every day is a tragedy going to school, but I have to be very careful to keep everything in the morning on the "up and up". I make sure to talk about her friends and fun things that happen at school. Talk about the upcoming Christmas party or the Polar Express Pajama day or anything I can think of that will get her mind on something fun and not home and mom. It's crazy!

Yesterday, she had chapped lips, so I gave her my tube of lip balm to take in her backpack. We pulled up to the carpool line and she started to break down realizing that she had left the tube on the bathroom counter. I calmed her down telling her that I would bring it to her in a couple hours. I said I'd leave it in the office and they would call her down to get it. She asked if I could just bring it to her class. NO WAY! Last time I went to her Thanksgiving Feast, she started crying when we were clearing plates in anticipation of me leaving and her missing me and I had her home the rest of the day. I left the chap stick in the office.

Bless her little heart. For a split second (and only that long before it was dismissed) I wondered if I should home school her. NO WAY! That could do nothing but make this all worse and prolonged. In the meantime, I am keeping conversation light and happy and walking on egg shells so as to not unintentionally start the water-works!

Here's one for ya (two, actually)!

First thing: On Halloween evening, I went to a party. Let me preface the day: Weeks of late nights, meetings, stock piling cans of soda, and such had built up to the school Fall Carnival that was held on Halloween day from 10 am until 2 pm. The night before, the committee (I was co-chair with my friend Emily) was at the school until 11 pm - only because they kicked us out - setting up for the big day. Emily and I arrived at the school before 7 am on Saturday to get rolling. The carnival was a huge success. The committee was a bunch of wonderful ladies that it was a privilege to work with and get to know. The carnival ended at 2 pm and with tear-down and clean up and everything, we finally left the school just before 5 pm. I tell you this just to let you know that my day (s) were busy. I hadn't been sitting around eating Halloween candy (although I very much would have liked to have been). I will also throw in here that the week of the carnival, I decided that I didn't have enough to do, so I thought it would be a good idea to sew a cheerleader costume for Maren. (It really turned out awesome - if I do say so myself - but probably I could have picked a less-hectic time to have done it.) Editor's note: That's pretty much where October went and why there were no blog posts.

So, anyway, I went to this Halloween party at my good friends home. It started at 5, but we didn't get there until after 6 because when I got home from the carnival, I had to lay on the floor of my bedroom, and then just plain wasn't able to get up for a good half hour. My body ached, my legs hurt - I could barely walk. It was all like a really, really good workout!

So, I like this friend who hosted the party, and I actually genuinely liked all the guests that were there, so I felt comfortable and at ease (you know how at some parties you feel awkward or out of place - like at Geoff's work parties ((not you, me at his parties))...), so I went ahead and piled up my plate - great meatballs, by the way, Shawna! A bunch of the ladies were sitting at the table chatting while we ate. I sat down with my plate filled and made some comment about how I could load up because I hadn't eaten all day. One of the ladies looked at me and said; "You know, that really is a lot of meatballs." I said: "Oh, shut up, skinny chick!"

We all laughed and I'm pretty sure the 'skinny chick' smiled and laughed as well, but I don't know her well enough to know if she was being funny and sarcastic, or serious about the meatball comment. I went on to say something to the group about '...this is the type of conversation that people have in their heads but usually don't let it out of their mouths...' or something like that. But the thing is; it totally didn't bother me!

Ten years ago, even five years ago, it would have spiralled me into depression (and probably a Sam's club size bag of Halloween candy!) but I didn't care. I am comfortable with myself (totally could stand to lose about 40 lbs). Since last November, I've lost 40 lbs and that is great, but the thing is, I'm still way over weight. The Wii balance board does it's "Ohhh!" surprised-sigh (you know what I'm talking about) when I step on it still, but I work out three to four times a week and am doing the best that I can right now in my life.

I think the bottom line is that I am older. Not that old is an excuse to give up, but age just brings with it a maturity to where you can be okay with who and how you are. I guess, I've come to realize that every body truly is different. I just plain don't have the DNA to ever allow me to be a size 4 (or 6, or probably 10). It was awesome. I felt so good about me.

After the kids and chaperone's left to trick or treat, I laid on my friends couch and ate 'Monster Munch' popcorn (which was the best ever!, Shawna) while I chatted with her and her husband and another couple. That's how good I am with myself, and how much I didn't care about 'Skinny chicks' opinion.

ANYWAY, Second thing: The following Saturday, the girls and I had kind of a girls day, so we went to Denny's for lunch (their choice, not mine). In my mind, I had a conversation where I decided to have a good meal and then maybe I could have the great looking apple crisp with ice cream afterward. I went ahead and ordered a grilled chicken salad with lite dressing on the side. No croutons.

When the waitress brought our food, she set my salad down and said "I guess I went a little crazy with the cheese." I said "Oh, that's okay." She said "You look like you don't mind." It was one of those cartoon moments where everything froze. I was reaching for the ketchup for the girls and kind of stopped mid-air while I processed what she said and was cracking up in my mind thinking: "Did she really just say what I think she said?!" So funny! I chalked that one up to a language barrier. I did, however, NOT have the apple crisp with ice cream. Just to be sure...

So even with that, I am still good with myself. But I think that probably, I should stay home during PMS week so as to avoid any "incidents" while my emotions are closer to the surface.

A couple things: One, I'm proud of my new-found maturity (not in all aspects of life, by the way); and two, I can't believe the nerve of some people to say stupid things.

Life is awesome!

Here's pictures of the cheerleader costume, though. I'm simple, but pretty proud of myself.

I told her not to brag...

...but I am SO going to!

Maren auditioned among 13 other girls for the part of 'Young Cinderella' in her dance studio's spring production. I think she is a beautiful and graceful dancer, but really, truly didn't think she'd get the part with all those trying out.

But, SHE DID!

I am just pleased as punch and so proud of her. Actually, I'm sort of living vicariously through my girls (and the boys a little too). I so wanted dance (or play baseball, or piano, etc.) lessons when I was a youngun, but we just couldn't do it. So I do all I can (within reason) to let these guys do a sport/activity and/or a musical instrument if they show an interest in it. It makes for a hectic - sometimes miserable - schedule for the taxi driver, but I really do love to see them 'perform'. It was really neat the first time I could stand more than two feet away and really play catch with each of the boys (not yet Christian), and now, watching them pitch a fast ball and strike out a batter is totally awesome. (Not so fun though, when the fast ball actually hits the batter...) Watching Maren dance or play the piano is so much fun. Especially watching Samy tapping away with her spaghetti legs just makes me want to cry, it's so dang cute!

Anyway, I'm excited for Maren and can't wait to see the final product in June!

Congrats Maren!

Break a leg. (But not really. Or anything else for that matter -- all my money is going to private lessons and costumes, so I can't afford medical bills).

Childhood memories

I have fond memories of mom being home when I came home from school. Often, before I even crossed the street to our house, I could smell the goodness, and tell that mom had made bread that day. Oh, and it was such good bread. If we were in luck, she had just recently taken it out of the oven and it was piping hot and the butter would melt and drip from it while we ate. Other times, we'd enjoy a bowl of broken-up bread pieces with honey and a bit of milk for dinner -- because we wanted to, it was that good.

So, today. The last of the bread was used up in today's lunches. It was a rainy day, so I decided that I would make up a couple loafs of bread and we could use that so that I didn't have to go to the store. And who doesn't love home-baked bread!

I got out my handy red and white checked 'Better Homes' cookbook and all the ingredients and went to work.

Well, it takes a long time, bread does. And it's messy. And did I mention that it takes a long time? Nevertheless, I was enjoying feeling like a good, old-fashioned stay at home mom.

Well, I think my first clue was when there was dough stuck all over my hands, not clean hands kneading beautifully sculpted dough like in the picture in the Better Homes cookbook. My second clue was when I let it rise (just like I was instructed) in the oven, covered, with a pan of hot water sitting under it, for an hour, and it hadn't rised at all!

I went about following the instructions, because, come on, it's a loaf of bread, not brain surgery!, thinking surely it would all turn out in the end.

Here's the final product.

( That bottom one looks like a dog bone or something. I bet even a dog would turn away from this.)

(I wonder why Wonderbread never looks like this!)

.

.

.

.

It's not pretty. And it tastes just about as good as it looks.

It's in the trash. I'm going to the store. My talent is going to be appreciating "Mrs. Bairds" talent.

News Flash!

I agree with Barack Obama. It doesn't happen....well, really ever.

Have you seen this guy in an interview (Kanye West I mean, we've seen plenty of Obama)? I think there's something missing. Seriously, and I don't just mean his filter. He can't trail three words together.
I do have to say though, that Beyonce won mega points from me by bringing Taylor Swift back on stage to say her thank you's. Good form, Beyonce.

"I will not be left out!"

Really, I almost couldn't bare the heartache of my baby going to 'school' for 10 whole hours a week. But it was Christian -- even though he only says 'cars', 'trash', 'go', 'hi', and a handful of other rarely understood words -- who almost forced me to send him to the Mother's Day Out program. (Can you feel the sarcasm dripping like the humidity at high noon in July in Houston?)

He did a great job. No tears. When we first got to the classroom on the first day, he did grab my hand as we were walking in the door and tried to turn and bolt, but that was partly my fault. I completely forgot about his "meet the teacher" the week before, where he would have known what he was getting in to. Maybe it was better this way. Anyway, he at least knows the school. He took Samy there last year for her Pre-K and cried each day we dropped her off and he couldn't stay. Here you go, buddy! Stay all day! See you at 2. Other than the wanting to bolt, it seems like he is really liking it. He's even gotten his back pack on non-school days and headed for the door. His daily reports say that he is happy and "a sweetie" the teacher wrote. He likes it.

Mom likes it too. It's a win-win!

Sunday Funnies

While getting ready for church:

Maren: Mom, I don't ever hear you 'toot'. I hear your big, loud burps all the time, but never any 'toots'.

Me: Yeah, well, if those have to happen, I try to keep it private.

Maren: I mean, your burps are the best ever.

Me: Thanks Mare, I try.

Minutes after the Stake President reads an official letter from the pulpit in regards to Swine Flu and what we need to do to stay clear Samy does a big, uncovered sneeze. :

Geoff and I burst into laughter as quietly you can in church.

Samy: Why are you guys laughing?

Geoff: Because we love you.

Samy: You're lying, you're making fun of me.

Yet another trip to the past, I gotta stop doing this...

On the 28th of August, Christian turned 2. He's been terrible for quite some time, but now he is officially Terrible Two. Every day, as I laugh or shrug off his shinannigans, I am reminded why he is child number 5, and child number the last. I'm very type-A and was way too uptight to have had this little man earlier in the family. (Father knows best). Now I can -mostly - laugh at it all. And I can certainly enjoy every bit of him!

I just adore this little man. Happy 2nd Birthday Christian!

Come with me back in time, won't you?

It's like the second half of August just disappeared. School happened and I was only somewhat coherent. So, we're just going to go back and pretend that I am documenting my sweet little girls first day of Kindergarten on, well, the first day of Kindergarten instead of now - the second week of school. Poor fourth child.

Samy was so excited to go to school. Secretly, I have been a little worried that she is going to come home some day and say that she doesn't like it any more, or is bored and doesn't want to go every day. So far, so good. Her teacher is a gem, and one of her best buddies, Ty, is in his class (thanks for letting me ride your coat tails, Emily!).

She put on her new clothes and her new pink tennies, packed her new backpack and lunch kit, and war raring to go. It's funny; she seems so big and grown up to me lots of times, but putting her in that school uniform and sending her to school made her seem really little. I'll get over it. Oh, I am over it!


By the end of the day, her new pink tennies had given her blisters on the heels of her feet, so she walked out of school on her tip toes. That's okay, she walks like that subconsciously anyway.

Geoff and I walked her into her class room. She went to her desk and waived good bye. We snapped a picture and took off. As we rushed down the hall and out of the school, Geoff said something like "can you tell we're fourth-time parents?" I said, yeah, with Christian, if I can't find a bus to put him on, I'll make him jump out as I slow down in front of the school." We're awesome like that.


I'm not totally unsentimental. I had to rush back out to the parking lot to get Logan and Maren, whose bus never showed up, and take them to their magnet program school a half hour away. We went home and got Christian, whom I had left with Eric (nice, babysitting on the morning of the first day of school - yee haw, 8th grade!) and loaded him in the car. Drove the kids to their school, now an hour late on their first day. Then Christian and I got to spend the rest of the morning at the School Admin office complaining about the lack of communication and lack of "courtesy" from the Transportation department. I won't go into any more detail. I've slept since then -- maybe it is better that I let time pass before posting. No one needed to hear my rant about this.




So, Eric didn't get a first day of school picture because for his first day he left on his own with a hearty "Have a great day. Lock the door behind you when you leave!" I love independent teens!

When Christian and I got home that morning and all the kids were gone, he would not come in the house. He stood out in the back yard (and it was hot!) for about 30 minutes babbling up a storm (still very few words from that boy!) and every now and then yelling for the "gys!". Then when I guess he'd figured out they weren't coming to his calls, he came in and stood at the bottom of the stairs and kept yelling "gys!" So dang cute!

School is good.

Lucky number 13

Happy Birthday to Eric (this past Saturday - I'm a little behind.....).

This summer, Eric has spent a LOT of time babysitting. So it was ever so appropriate that for his 13th birthday, he babysit to start the day, and again to end the day.

That was sarcasm, because how pathetic.... Saturday morning was a Primary Activity that the whole family was involved in - except for Eric, so we all had to take off after the morning chorus of "happy birthday". Christian wasn't really involved in the activity either, and no one wanted the chore of chasing him in the church parking lot (it was an outside water activity), so Eric got to hang with Christian in the morning.

We tried to redeem ourselves as parents by dropping him and some friends at the movie theater in the afternoon and leaving them with movie tickets, money for concessions, and money for ice cream after the movie. It seems to have worked, as he hasn't shown signs of resentment, but I'm sure as the hormones kick in more and more, there will be plenty of resentment, and worse....

So, his entrance in to teen years concluded by babysitting (which he agreed to) for some friends of ours so that we could go out on a double date. I will say that had I been in charge of the planning, I would not have chosen our child's birthday to have a night out on. A few days earlier, Geoff called and told me that he had arranged a date with this other couple on Saturday, was that okay with me. I said, um, it's your firstborns birthday... He responded with a Homer Simpson doh! Nevertheless, Eric was a good sport and saw $$$ in his eyes and we had a good time out!

Happy Birthday Eric!

Last Minute Fun

The plan for this summer was to enroll in a plethora of camps and classes to keep everyone busily engaged in good things. This was very fun for everyone and a pretty good plan. There were weeks here and there where not everyone had something going on, and a rare one where no one had anything going on. As for the mom, I was tired out from the drudge of taxing to and fro, same as the school year.

By the beginning of August, we all needed a change of scenery. I searched for places to stay in Austin and San Antonio (some of our favorite spots to drive to for a get-away) but nothing was available at anywhere near the price I was willing to pay.

I decided that we (and by we, I mean I) wanted to go to the beach. Galveston doesn't count. People like it, and people have fun there, and that's okay. I've even been found on the rare occasion to have had a good time at Galveston beaches. However, it wouldn't do for an end of summer trip in my mind. Then I had it: Florida! White sands and clean water were a mere 8 hours drive away.

We had the greatest time! On a Friday morning, we packed up and headed to Pensacola. The drive was great. The kids were great.

Christian did this: and this: and this. Very smooth.

We went through the eastern tip of Texas, the horizontal whole of Louisiana, the bottom chunks of Mississippi and Alabama, and by 5 pm were in Pensacola Florida. We hung out at the hotel pool Friday evening because it was a little overcast and we would do the full on beach thing the next day.

Saturday, we headed out to the very cool National Naval Aviation Museum, because it was a bit overcast and we figured the sun would come out more in the afternoon.

Next, we headed for the beach, finally! To get to the beach, there are a series of bridges that you go over. As we drove across one bridge, it started to drizzle. Then it was raining. Then it was pouring!

I DROVE 8 HOURS TO GO TO A NICE BEACH! WE'RE ON VACATION!!!

Off in the distance, there was a break in the clouds and some actual sun peeking through. We drove to that spot, unloaded, and went about our business ignoring the drizzle and hoping that it would stop any minute. The good news is that the rain stopped. The bad news is that Maren came out of the water and said that she was itchy all over. There were red splotches here and there on her body. Just then, Geoff came out of the water and said that there were about four jelly fish right there where the waves break. (Right about where Maren had been when she came in with the itching and spots!). So. We considered peeing on her. Who was going to do that? Logan suggested we give Christian a bunch of milk and then let him loose. In the end, we wrapped her up in a towel, and between that and burying herself in the sand and the itch and sting just went away. Thankfully.

So, in the meantime, we all went down to the water and looked at the many jelly fish that were messing up our beach trip worse than the rain. I thought about maybe moving our party down the beach a bit, so I took a walk to explore. As I walked, there were several more jellies either washed up onto the sand, or right there in the water. We stayed where we were and soon a family came who happened to have nets, "fer shell diggin'", who used the nets to catch as many jellies as they could and pile them up on the beach so as to have them out of the water. That was good of them.

Between that, and Geoff said that the further out one was, the less jelly fish there were, the beach ended up being a great success. The sand was really white and clean and "sandy", and the water was green and clean and beautiful!

On Sunday, we found a local church to go to and then were going to either hit the beach again, or head to the big outlet mall in Alabama, then on to New Orleans for the night. The mall won over the beach (because it was still overcast and looked like rain again) so we headed out of Florida. We got to the mall right about lunch time and Eric got to choose the place. He chose Hardee's. Eric has now lost all restaurant-choosing privileges. Walking on the floor alone grossed me out, let alone Christian sitting, falling, or touching it. It was greasy, dirty, and just all around yucky. I know, I know, we could have left..... The best part of all was when Geoff was sitting across from me and trying to casually pull the hair out of his burger without me seeing. I handed him the rest of my food and said I'd be in the car getting the hand sanitizer ready. If you know Geoff at all, you won't be surprised to know that he did, in fact, finish the hair-burger, along with my food. That's one fast food place I could eat at and be sure to lose weight.....

The outlet mall (I know. We never never shop on Sunday. But we were on vacation. It's kind of like how calories don't count on vacation or after midnight. Sometimes Sabbath rules can be bent as well. I'll repent later.), was great in theory. In reality, we had a very tired two year old 'bronco' who is still in the early stages of being 'broken'. No worries though, we still managed to drop a load $!

The real "Goonie adventure" happened on the drive after our time in Foley, Alabama. I thought Texas had big bugs. I had never been to Mississippi. We stopped at a rest stop (very nice and clean and manicured for a rest stop, by the way! Good job Mississippi!), and when the girls and I got done, we noticed that the boys had all gone down the scenic path to take in the sights. What a sight to behold! The girls were a few feet in front of me and Samy stopped and said "ewe, a spider!" I told her to just jump over it, she's bigger than a spider. Then I got to the "spider"...

It jumped, too.

So we quickly caught up to the boys who were crouched down looking at something. It was a swarm of the giant "cricket things". All the while we were encountering the "cricket things", there were swarms of "giant flies" dive bombing our heads. I said that's it, we're done. Everybody runnnnnn! I made Olympic time to the car all while in a skirt and flip flops. Good bye, Mississippi!

This is why I am not a camper.

We ended our day in New Orleans and checked in to one of the coolest hotel rooms that I have ever seen. It wasn't necessarily the most luxurious room, but the layout was way neat. It was just a Marriott Residence Inn, but I had never seen one like this. There were basically three bedrooms each with a queen sized bed, two bathrooms, a huge dining area, huge living room (with a sofa bed), and kitchen. We kind of stumbled upon it because they didn't have two rooms adjoining. It was so great! We have to split personalities up strategically so as to avoid the biggest fights and problems. We had Maren (the little mother) in bed with Christian (who needed mothering because he doesn't fit in the pack n play provided by the hotel - and this mother wasn't going to do it) who needed help his first time in a big bed. Samy (tiny girl) was in bed with Eric (germ-a-phobe who can't get along with Maren or Logan). Logan (sleep-through-anything-spread-eagle) got the living room sofa bed all to himself. It worked perfectly. Eric asked Geoff if this hotel room was as big as our first house. Almost. Our kitchen was a bit bigger... However, there was one slight problem with the awesome hotel room:

Monday in New Orleans. I've been to Nawlis once in my life, and frankly, that was one time too many. Not a fan. I went a few months after Hurricane Katrina and was purely convinced that the moldy stink and grimy feel of the place had nothing to do with the levee's breaking and was well established long before any hurricane! This time, though, I knew to completely avoid Bourbon Street - even in the day time, not make eye contact with any street vendor trying to "give" you a souvenir cap, and what streets/areas to avoid altogether. Despite my feelings for the Cajun city, we did have a good time walking through the Historic French Quarter and Market Place. Conveniently, a storm rolled in right about lunch time so we ducked in to a quaint Authentic New Orleans-style restaurant. Granted, a plate of red beans and rice should never cost $11.50, but it was a dang good plate of red beans and rice. The southern fried chicken and baked macaroni that the girls had was to die for, and Eric's Po-boy was scrumptious! So, still not my favorite city, but this time left a much better taste in my mouth (literally) than my previous visit.


I still think the city is Gamorah.

So, as this 'story' has unfolded, you may have noticed the instances of overcast skies and/or rain. Yeah, that was Tropical Storm Claudette that pretty much hit exactly where were staying in Florida pretty much right after we left. We had no idea there was anything brewing in the gulf (need to watch the news once in a while). While we hesitate to call ourselves inspired, we do recognize the safety and protection that are afforded our little family and are very grateful for our complete dumb luck!

We left Nawlins on Monday afternoon. Why is it that the trip home is always soooo much longer and harder than the trip there? I know the answer, but it always amazes me. Not to mention the fact that for the trip home, we shaved off three hours by starting from New Orleans! Whatever. I swear we made fifteen stops within that five hour drive, each time telling all the bladders this really was the last stop we were making before we got home. The most upsetting was when everyone in the car was convinced that Christian had a loaded diaper. We pulled off and found a stop. Opened the diaper to find nothing but a false alarm. Little bugger. I'm sure he did that on purpose. One of the fun things was driving through or near many of the areas that I had served as a missionary for the Church. That brought back a lot of good memories.

One other thing that cracked me up was that we had the DVD player in the car, another portable one, a small DVD playing laptop, and almost every other electronic device known to man, (iPod touch, iPods, Gameboy DS's, etc...) with us to entertain for the long drive. But for hours, those four kids sat in that van and had competitions with this silly maze toy that we somehow got four of out of three kids meals at greasy Hardees!
I love it when the kids are "retro"!

We finally rolled into our driveway at 8:57 pm after a short, but very fun, successful, and much needed and deserved weekend vacation. (Laundry was started at 9:06 pm).

To paraphrase from one of our favorite children's books (by P.D. Eastman); "We love our house. We love our nest. In all the world, our nest is best!"

Some of my favorite lines from the trip:

Samy: "Mom, why did you turn around?"
Me: "Becuase the lady [GPS]told me to."
Samy: "WHAT! That lady is insane!"

Logan (upon entering the city of New Orleans at night): "I swear we are in Gotham."

After the first night in a hotel, Maren got up and made the bed that she had shared with Samy. Samy said, crying: "I wanted my maid to make my bed!"