SAHD

Most of you know that Steve has been home with the kids for most of our marriage--not that he hasn't had plenty to do as a full-time student which he has been for much of that time, but he has also taken on the responsibility of being the primary care giver in our home for the days I am gone or when I am home and on the phone (which seems like a large percentage of the time.) This year, he had to step it up as a full-time student dissertating while I pursued a Master's Degree and was gone even more than normal.

One might wonder what Steve does when I am out of town.  Does he cook?  Clean?  Do the dishes?  Laundry?  What kinds of activities does he do with the kids?

In a world in which we still make a big deal about men who know what to do with their kids, it can surprise people to know that I never do laundry yet it is always clean and put away and there are no piles of dirty clothes around.  The children are not starving when I come home as evidenced by their yummy chubby faces and the dishes seem to be just as clean when I am here as when I return from being gone.

As for the activities, this is where his parenting gets a little questionable.  Often when I come home from being out of town, I encounter strange new possessions that arrived in my absence.  Things like this:

I know that some of you recognize the life-sized bear from Costco.  We own one.  Actually, we own two:

My sister-in-law suggested that they look like passed out frat boys in the middle of the night (you may recall a similar post I made about it awhile back).

These bears also have a little friend that arrived later one, a little  big stuffed sheep.  I tried to take a pictures so you can get a sense of scale, but the thing is larger than a standard pillow.

These large stuffed animals are a nuisance, but never before has something shown up that has been as disruptive as these three two ratoncitos. 

They purchased three but Steve decided it was one too many and returned one without consulting the girls, it was very traumatic for poor little Gillian

In a sad turn of events, however, one of the little rats got very ill with pneumonia and a side of my beloved husband came out that reminded me of why I married him.  He put the rat cage in the bathroom and turned up the water to provide a steam room for the sick rat.  And in spite of his eternal cheapness and the lack of return on his investment ($5 dollar rat: $50 vet trip) he took the sick pet to the veterinarian to make sure that the animal was cared for properly.  In watching him make sure this little animal was going to survive, I couldn't help but forgive all of his crazy antics when I am out of town. 

To you, my love, on your birthday, thank you for all that you are to our family.

Fairness and Equity (or, Teachable Moments Gone Bad)

Last night I made the mistake of trying to teach my children about equity and justice by taking advantage of a "teachable moment" when my eldest daughter's civil disobedience took the form of dereliction of duty on her chores.

Bridget didn't understand why she had to do her chore three times (dishes) and her brother only did his twice (cleaning off the counter tops).

The following conversation ensued:

Mom: Look, it is spring break, you are generating more dishes so when it is your day to do that job, you will do it more frequently.  So will the person who is on garbage, that is just the way it works.  I believe in equity, not fairness.

Bridget:  What is the difference?

Mom:  Equity means that every person has an equal shot at society (this is where I start to degenerate and change the point of my argument with her).  Say a family has their house burn down, the parents both lose their jobs, and the kids don't have anything to eat.  Then another family, with parents who have a good job and a big house, they are eating a frosty for dessert (gesturing to our own frosty desserts on the table).  They both go to the food bank, who should get the dinner?

Bridget:  They both should get the same amount (said with sarcasm).

Mom: You are a jerk.  I am not raising kids who believe that.

Casey:  That is a bad example.

Bridget:  Why would the rich family be at the food bank?

Casey: Duh, because they are giving the food bank food

Steve:  Wait, what if they are at the food bank because they feel entitled and just want more food?

Bridget: No, let me give you an example, there is a short guy, a medium guy, and a tall guy.  There are all these crates and they are trying to watch a game.  They each get a crate.  And then someone comes along and says "Hey, those guys didn't even buy tickets to watch the game, why are they getting to watch it for free?"

Needless to say, I did the dishes myself (though I did guilt trip her the entire time, resulting in a clean living room.)

Evolution in Blogging

I have had been a faithful blogger for a decade before my posts slowed to a trickle.  At first I thought it was busier, but I have realized lately that part of the reason for this slowing down is that my life has becoming increasingly more private.

Not that I have much to hide, I am still just as open in person with my friends as I have historically been on this blog, but that there is more at stake in the written world.  Here are what I believe my reasons are for less blogging:

1) Children who can now browse the internet.  As far as I can tell, they have yet to happen upon this blog, but there is always a chance that that "hilarious"  parenting fail moment I have freely blogged about in the past will show up in therapy for my children in a couple of decades.  I can't have a written record of the conversations I had with them about their coming of age including appropriate internet usage or bodily development.  just. can't.  But believe me, there is some good material floating out in the universe.

2) I have further access to secret district stuff.  Did you know that existed? Yeah, it does.  And I can't tell you about it.  I would like to, though, see this post on how much I dislike secrets.

3) I am now spending time in public schools learning things that are not particularly positive. I can't write an exposé about the inner workings of teacher and student discipline, my take on whether or not large comprehensive high schools should even work, or how I really feel about mediocrity in instruction.

4) I am on a violently emotional roller coaster with grad school in which one day I am ready to write a novella on how ridiculous grad school really is and how little the institution can teach me and the next I want to share all of my new knowledge with the world.

I imagine one day I will return to daily or weekly blogging because it has historically been so therapeutic for me, perhaps when and if we move.  Which brings me to my last point:

5) The Way Things Are (Grad School Status):  Steve is applying for jobs whilst finishing his dissertation.  We haven't heard back from most of the places where he has applied and chances are high that we will move to the middle of nowhere for a year or two before we find our final resting place.  I think we initially wanted to move for a longer period of time so the kids wouldn't have to move a bunch more, but nothing like the application process to remind you that after all that you can do, your future is not in your own hands.  Uncertainty is not fun to blog about--it comes across as anxiety or whining, neither of which have a place in my blog.  I write this to record the joy and comedy of my life, not the dark shadows in between that frankly are boring.   Whether we move to some exotic location (East or West Coast?) or some less exotic location (anywhere in between?), I suppose that my friendship quotient will return to 0 and I will have no choice to embrace my old friend the blog, who has always been a listening ear in hard and happy times.

Ode to the Paterfamilias.

As I will be leaving on Sunday for the first of two big conferences and tomorrow Steve is going to give a paper at a conference that I will attend for a few moments to hear him deliver.  We are both hoping that after hearing his paper I will say "Oh! Interesting!" rather than "What?"

Due to the busy schedule of the blessed Father's Day weekend, we decided to serve up some food this eve and celebrate tonight.  More on that in a minute.

When I was at the grocery store, I asked the girls "What kind of ice cream does daddy like?" and we stood there stumped.  Next we were in the chips aisle and we asked ourselves "What kind of chips dos daddy like?" And then I started to cry because I realized that after nearly 13 years of marriage, my husband knows every detail about me.  He knows that my favorite ice cream is something with lots of chocolate.  He knows that my favorite chips contain a hint of lime.  He probably even knows that 10/10 is it a green salsa over a red.

But him?  The only thing I know about his taste is that he likes everything we like.  He loves to make us happy.  And when he is thinking about what kind of ice cream he wants, he defaults to what will bring me the most joy: chocolate bits of something yummy.

Steve has been focused on my happiness since the day we met and he doesn't waiver, ever.  I had an opportunity to go to Spain to do some training in August (another post later) and rather than say "dude, you travel ALL the freaking time and you are gone for like two weeks already in August." He looked me in the eye and said "honey, I totally support you going to Spain, that is wonderful."

Most of all, I appreciate how much he loves the children he made me have.  I don't regret a single one and I appreciate that he takes care of them all the time so I don't remember why I didn't want to have them before they were born.


For these and a million other reasons, I am happily married to the most selfless and least materialistic person on the planet.

So since he is so easy to please, I made him what I have been wanting for dinner lately:

Aged Irish White Cheddar Cheese melted on Rosemary Olive Oil Bread. 

With some steak for good measure.

I didn't include a picture due to its grotesque nature, but I did throw in a little treat that was Steve-specific:  sauteed mushrooms. 


For dessert I stole a recipe from Paula Deen and made a summer fruit tart:

The fruit tart recipe was amazing, but I didn't have the glaze ingredients on hand, so I used instead a glaze that I modified from this site.  If you like fruit, cream cheese, and whipping cream, you would have been ecstatic to join our desserting crew tonight.


Finally, for a gift we decided to splurge and bought him a nice sports coat.  When he saw it he asked if we had taken his suit to the dry cleaners for a gift. 

So easy to please, this one.

Vote for Steve!

In case you are wondering why we are not together, it is because Steve has to have some time for his illustrious blogging career.

So... run on over and vote for Steve now.

In order to protect the integrity of the voting, please read a post or two of his first so that it won't be like sending a bunch of pirates to autovote.

Much thanks.

Gratitude

For my husband who worked his hardest to give me and my children the most amazing day today.  Thank you also to Walt and Mickey and the rest of the cast.

I feel satisfied at my life and wouldn't change a thing.  Even the stinky smell in the kitchen.

Happy Halloween

I think I have a bunch of other updates/explanations for my lack of participation in srbc but for now will stick with the current:

Happy Halloween breakfast for kids:

Puffy German Pancake. I originally got this recipe in college from my friend Emily but in the end had to look it up online and it called for using my cast iron pan. It was tasty. And of course I used whole wheat.

For the last several weeks my time has been taken by either traveling a ton (gone last 3 of 4 weeks) or by sewing this trench coat for Bridget's spy costume. She was happy and honestly I was pretty proud of the way it turned out for like 5 minutes.  Until I kept looking at it...

Bridget was my only child who cared about her costume.  Casey didn't bother because he is too old apparently.  But he did want candy so last minute grabbed a cloak from a few years ago.  And some paint from his Grandma halloween package.  He wanted to paint his skin black but I felt weird about that so we went with green.



















Gillian was a princess and then decided to be a vampire.  Bridget fortunately talked her into believing their makeup would be the same and anything involving makeup is a fun costume.  Apparently I didn't get a shot of her in the franticity.  Is that a word?

Next up Megs.  She refused to wear a costume in spite of looking so scrumptious in all of them:

Try #1:

Try #2:























Try #3 and final selection--bribed with "candy" to get her to get dressed (candy=fruit snacks)

For the actual trunk or treat event I tried to straighten her hair.  She looked really wild but it was fun--she refused to sit still and her hair was already fighting the straightness.

Here is our fancy trunk decoration:

And of course last minute we made Steve throw on a costume--one of my Blouses and a pirate hat from the costume box.  He wasn't too into it but he was a good sport about it. He looked adorable, really.

Since today is Sunday, we have a low key evening and we are having dinner with some friends instead of going out--I thought the kids would feel back but they got plenty of candy last night at the church Trunk or Treat so we are in good shape.  Have a bountiful Halloween of your own!

Overheard at the Dinner Table

Gillian, aged 5:  Daddy you better read so you can hurry and get a job and get paid.

I have no idea where she got that.

The Other Side of Blogging

My husband is a blogger.

But he means business--it is more about his research and boring stuff like that.

However, he did get a little mention on this "best of..." list yesterday for his mini-biography piece on how he became a Mormon historian.

He was the box 1 mention.

He is so smart.

Influenza

I am supposed to leave on Monday to go Chicago (about 45 minutes north of there)

But I woke up with chills last night in the middle of the night. And then I couldn't stand up the first half of the morning because I was so nauseated. I went to the doctor who diagnosed me with the flu and then she proceeded to say "You can't travel with the flu. People will die if they catch it from you--the elderly and small children."

If she would have said ANYTHING else I would have gone anyway, but I can't have that on my conscious.

I am going to see if I get over it by the end of the day tomorrow but it looks like, for the first time in three years, I will be canceling a visit to one of my schools :(

She told me not to spend time with my children and not to nurse my baby while on the meds so I am holed up in my stinky germy room writing this blog post after which I will go back to sleep again for the billionth time today.

My kids were really nice to me telling me they wanted to give me hugs and love but the real hero is my husband. While I was sick he was managing all the household meals and cleaning, arranging playgroups for the kids, and general niceness to me. He drove all over town to get me what I needed and held me while I was shivering. He even sat in the bathroom while I was taking a shower at 1 am because he was worried about me.

Thanks Steve, you are the genuine article.

Happy 33/11

Since his birthday and our anniversary are so close together I am doing one post dedicated to the one man who has provided the most stability in my life since the day I was born.

Hippieartist, had he lived, would be getting a dedicatory post tomorrow as his birthday so don't feel like I am slighting my father by making such a statement about my husband.

Even writing this post is challenging for me because he is like a brilliant movie that no one else quite gets. I think a few others out there might sort of understand him but overall I think he remains an enigma to most of the world.

Let me enlighten you:

• He no apparent hobbies besides his family (meaning us) and his research yet he has extensive knowledge of sports, world politics, pop culture, and history in general. When I call him and ask him trivia questions he either knows the answer right off the bat and acts like everyone know this or he says something like "I have no idea honey" as if asking him is a ridiculous idea.

• I have never heard him say an unkind thing about anyone ever. If start complaining about someone he has one of two answers every time: 1. Yeah that is kind of... anyway (as if he physically is incapable of saying something mean) or 2. Well, you can understand how... right? (as if he empathizes with the person.) This has pushed me to be a better person because I feel like I have gotten better at understanding the plight of people no matter how annoying.

• When he hangs out with the kids, they enjoy it so much but more importantly HE enjoys it. He loves to wrestle, play games, read, do "learning time" and whatever other kid activities he has a chance to partake in. For me it feels like a shift or a chore but he seems to genuinely love it. This makes me want to enjoy it more too and I appreciate his example to me.

• He refuses to go to sleep unless he has done his exercises and the dishes. This is a fairly new thing, like the last year or so. He never says "hey can you do the dishes?" he just has this routine. It has inspired me to be more on top of that particular chore because I feel like if I don't do it sometimes he will always end up staying up late. It is the perfect case of being an example to your family of cleaning rather than criticizing them for not doing it.

• He absolutely does not care what you think. It isn't personal, he just isn't motivated by impressing you. Since I am highly motivated by what others think it is key for me to be married to someone of his very focused personality in which pleasing your spouse and your God are the only things that matter.

• This is a pretty selfish one, but he never seems to tire of my nagging. If I say "can you do this?" or "turn this way" or "I don't want to do that" he never gets upset. I try to reign it in but how can I curb it when he never complains?

And last but not least...

• He makes me laugh. After 11 years of marriage he still is the one person whose approval means the most to me, whose one-liners make me smile and whose image comes to my mind anytime I hear a cheesy song about forever happiness.
  

If you want to read more about how awesome he is see the index from the label cloud.
Happy Birthday and anniversary!

Whatta Man

I skyped with my beautiful family tonight and the first thing out of Bridget's mouth was "guess what we read tonight?"

Kids:
-Showered
-Fed

Steve:
-Read the scriptures AND Watership Down
-Led scout meeting

We don't always get all those things done when we are together as a family.

My beloved husband, with four kids

I miss them soooo much.

Recuperation

Various travel tidbits from Albany:

1. Saw a kid from my mission who I haven't seen since 1997. He married a hilarious chica who, believe it or not, had the exact same lunch lady battle at their organic waldorfy school. She is like my doppleganger in NY and I am totally glad I made the effort to connect even though I was overworked and exhausted.

2. I love hearing the peeps at the school there say things like "can you take another look at this since you totally saved us from disaster this year?" Makes me feel like I am periodically worth the money my company pays me.

3. Meg was an absolute gem all the way there and back. I can't emphasize enough how incredible she was, happy, smiley, traveler extraordinaire. She just secured herself a spot on another crosscountry trip!

4. It rained and stayed at a nice low 40s for me. Except the last day when I packed the coat rather than leave it out for my 4 am departure from my hotel room. My ears nearly frozed.

5. Came home to a semi-clean house and a report that only once did the house nearly burn down (when Steve figured Bridget could handle the responsibility of cooking the beans while he was at scouts she said she thought she turned it down and then ran out to play with her friends but next time will put in more water. They ate the beans anyway).

6. Time change. 4 am. Ouch.

Ode to the Man

So after I posted about the missing child, Steve asked me if he should stop going to church now that people in the ward know what happened.

I asked permission, I really did. Both for telling people in real life (I didn't ask before texting my bff but that doesn't count) and for the post. I even read it to him before I clicked "publish."

But now I think he feels bad about it. And why shouldn't he?

However I need to clarify something here. For what it is worth, I am the most happily married person I know. Sure there are a few of you out there who claim marital bliss and I believe you but I think no one really knows what a miserable person I would be without Steve. Here are some things he provides for me that no other husband could ever give me:

-Ongoing comic relief. He is seriously one of the funniest people you will never know. He is shy so it doesn't come out in public too much but he is witttttty. Also, his absent-minded professorness is just funny to me and he never, ever minds when I make fun of him. I hope he knows that I love that about him and appreciate that he appreciates my humor. Sometimes I worry people think I don't know I am making fun of him but I really do.

--Total support of any endeavor I wish to pursue. Once a woman said I was amazing because I do so much and then she stopped short and said "but your husband lets you." I scoffed her internally (externally too in the retelling) but realized that in spite of her anti-feminism she was onto something. What kind of man says "honey go ahead and go to choir and I will stay with the kids" and then really, really doesn't mind. He also supports my cockamamie schemes like hand-grinding the meat for my homemade tortellini (completely unnecessary) for my final in my history of Italy course. And putting orange yarn on hats for some dance thing that in the end my kids are not even going to do. I once told him I was going to quit as the secretary for the governing council at my kids school and came home the president on accident. He didn't blink an eye and just worried about how I was going to accomplish it.

--Intellectual conversation. You can NOT underestimate the value of this to me. He not only teaches me something every day but he actually listens to all my bullcrap about education reform and incorporates my work lingo into his vocabulary. He even acts interested when he is listening to me.

--Dishes. Laundry. Flowers when I get back in town 90% of the time (except when friends are coming from out of town because he likes to put on a show that he doesn't do anything for me).

--The best chocolate cookies on the planet. If you doubt this, you have never eaten his cookies.

--Unlimited hugs. Seriously there is no limit. Ever.

--An ongoing smirk on his face that seems as if he is making fun of other people. Since he would never actually make fun of other people, I get to pretend like he is and internally laugh while he is probably reviewing in his head some old Simpson's episode.

--In the middle of an economic crisis and a future that did not portend well I bought an iphone. In spite of his cheapness, he didn't say anything, just seems happy that I enjoy it. Cuz that is the kind of guy he is.

--Oh and keeps us from total financial ruin. That one is a very true and serious reality that I could never, ever thank him enough for giving to me. I may be the one who works but he is the one who makes our family and finances work out.

Without him=me, broke, unfulfilled, probably childless, and utterly lacking in good stories.

1...2...3...4?? 4???

I sing in choir for personal enrichment. I like feeling like I am contributing and I am also developing a talent that I would like to have. Last year since church was at 9 it was tough for me to get there early for practice on the days we would sing so I vowed this year I would try to be there early since we have late church now. Today I arrange a ride, then get all the kids ready in their church clothes and then finally put Meg down for a nap so my husband can mainly deal with the three older kids and theoretically be able to just walk out the door when it is time to come.

Enter conflict.

My husband walks into the chapel where I am sitting with two of my children, neither of whom is the baby. The following conversation ensues:

Me: Honey, where is Meg?

Him: She is refusing to come in from the car, the two girls were fighting again.

Me: Not Bridget, Meg. Honey, where is MEGHAN?

Him: [Look of shock] I am so sorry... [runs out the door]

I thought he was joking at first but when the look of shock never left his face I knew it was the real McCoy. He left her at home asleep and then drove off to church. I guess the girls fighting in the car was a major distraction.

I know you are now wondering what happened when he got home, was she okay? Did something fall down into her crib and suffocate her? Did the house catch on fire? Was she crying hysterically and now has major abandonment issues? Did something happen to him on the way home to pick her up and now she is there by herself locked in the house crying? Will I ever forgive myself for going to choir if anything happened?

Because that is what was going through my head.

I stepped out of the meeting and called him when I thought he had gotten home and he described her as "somber but not crying." He did mention a single tear that had fallen on her cheek from perhaps what could have been crying over having been abandoned.

*On the Road Again...

*Alternative titles: "The Gambler" or "Take this Job and Shove it."

So we are once again driving across the desert to return home. Car=repaired. They even washed it.

$500 car wash.

So I need to backup to remind you of the only incident we had on Christmas: My #1 son opened some books that Steve bought for the family (Watership Down and two of the LOTR series) and prior to opening any other presents threw himself face down on the floor in front of the Christmas tree (he told me later it was so no one would know he was sad which says something about his hiding skills) because he didn't want to have to read them? My poor husband really loves to read to the kids and it makes me sad they are not excited about being read to as he and I both were as kids (or so we remember). We have made it through HP #1-7 as well as partway through the Hobbit so I guess that says something.

Fast forward to today.

I am driving, listening to some newly loaded tunes on the Ipod when I hear a commotion in the back of the car. My son has gotten bored of the reading of Watership Down (what!) and claims he is SO bored his brain hurts. I feel so sad for my husband who has been twice rejected now by his children and I start laughing. Casey asks, between tears, why I am laughing and I told him it was because I was trying not to cry I felt so bad for daddy. He said I was really mean and he wished were in another family (I think we said "too bad you were not born into another family" to get him started along that vein) and then the whole car was in chaos--girls fighting over seating arrangement as well as why little sister couldn't listen to the MP3 player, etc.

What came to the rescue? Time Bandits. Steve's sister picked it up for him for Christmas and voilá the Little People bring back peace. Steve's comment: Good thing we have this DVD player in the car since nothing else we try appears to work. Amen my brother.

Retraction

My poor husband has been misquoted in my previous post and I owe it to him and the Beehive state to correct it. His quote as I wrote it up:

"Hey people can say what they want about Utah but I was never offered drugs, alcohol, or sex while in HS. Can any Californians say the same?"

Apparently he felt that out of context this simply reinforced some stereo-type that Utahns are self-righteous or something and he wanted to point out that he in fact has only said this once and it was in response to the argument that being around a lot of other Mormons would make someone feel less "peculiar." The argument "well our family is Mormon therefore we do not ______________" that our fellow church members in Cali (and other states) use to stand up for their beliefs wouldn't work in Utah because the response obviously could be "well my family is Mormon and we do ____________, so what?" His point was to only debunk that particular argument, never to show in comparison with Cali or any other God-forsaken state in the mission field.

He still doesn't think this retraction is good enough but it was the best I could do. He can start his own blog if he doesn't want his wife constantly misquoting him. I guarantee it was not the last time but because I love him, I will try harder.

What Ant Problem?

Though not nearly as exciting as landeelu's tales of Beatrix Potter, I have a similar infestation of ants. Only many more.

They send in an emissary and next thing you know there are a clan of them. We reported it to our housing complex who kindly provided us with traps that seemed to work after a week or so. They scheduled us for a spray as well but we were cautioned not to do it in a house with allergies or pregnant women and since we have both and the traps seemed to be working we skipped it.

Fast forward to reinfestation after the traps were empty (2 days ago). Convo:

Me: I am going to buy some Terro. That stuff is awesome.

Steve: Um that isn't a good idea. Isn't it really toxic?

Me: Well. I don't know maybe. What do you suggest we do about the ant problem?

Steve: Um.

Me: Okay well how about I let you solve the ant problem?

Steve: Okay. We don't have an ant problem. So I am going to solve it by doing nothing.

Me: What? Okay, so I just looked up Terro and it turns out that it just has borax which some countries still use as a food preservative.

Steve: What countries? Like Russia? Because that doesn't count.

Me: Okay fine I will figure it out.

As I am getting ready to walk out the door I reach up on the bookshelf to taste some of the really yummy chocolate that Steve brought back from Finland for us and guess what? Yep, ants.

Me: Um, honey, there are ants up here in your chocolate. You still think we don't have an ant problem?

(Skip forward two hours after I unsuccessfully tried three stores for Terro)

Me: Honey wait why is the chocolate in this plastic bag? Did you just pick off the ants and put it in the bag?

Steve: What are ants poisonous or something?

Scandinavia

My husband is floating around somewhere in Scandinavia. He sent me an email saying he arrived and he was just trying to figure out how to use the pay toilets.

Hopefully he finds his way onto the ferry to Finland and makes it to his conference okay.

His parents called this morning to say that the hardest part would be to avoid muggers in Stockholm- the perfect thing to say to a 38-week pregnant wife whose husband is traveling through Stockholm.

Fortunately it turns out that Stockholm has a lower crime rate than Sacramento so if he didn't get mugged over the three years we lived there he will be okay.