Just for today?

"If my dreams could all come true-paradise would be in a bungalow by the sea."

As I sit here in my igloo, living off of food storage because I refuse to face the frigid air and slick parking lots to go get groceries, I can't help but wish I was sitting in a bungalow by the sea reading a lovely novel as my children play on the beach. 

As I stress about sick kids, county reports, and an ACT exam in the horizon, I can't help but look at the horizon in this picture and the little ones standing in front of it with some pining and some nostalgia. A simpler time in a warmer place. Would it be ok if I went back there just for today? 

So Glad I Listened

"Music washes away the dust of everyday life."-Auerbach

This is the time of year packed with music festivals and recitals. This time of year, for the Watson family,  begins now and doesn't end until the end of May. It means that I now spend much of my time getting my children to and from rehearsals and performances at various schools throughout the county. It also means that I spend much of my time purring in the audience during said performances. You see, if Neil and I weren't spending all of our money on instruments and private lessons, then I would be spending it on season symphony tickets. Since the children's musical experiences trump such frivolities, I get my music fix at their concerts.

And I must say, that when Jessica's Youth Symphony performs, it is not a far cry from that experienced at Abravanel Hall. I sit in the audience almost gloating at the fact that I am enjoying such an event for free. Jessica has quite an admiration for her many music mentors. One such mentor is this conductor, a high energy fellow, full of humor, and yet kind hearted. He walks in to lead this prestigious orchestra with a Spiderman backpack. The cellists in this group tend to be an over-zealous bunch and overpower the violinists at times. The conductor is constantly trying to reel them in. At one point he simply yelled, "Cellos you boogers, Shut Up!" Humor Jessica loves and appreciates.

Look at Jessica's face in these pictures. This is a child completely in her element. She is soaking in and relishing every moment of this experience. I don't know that I've ever seen her having so much fun. 

I can remember when Jessica approached me in 6th grade about playing the cello and how I kind of moaned inside. The cello is such a big instrument, and it carries with it a rather large price tag. She was already a pretty amazing pianist, and I had visions of her being a concert pianist. She was trying to tell us something, and I kind of didn't want to listen. We went ahead and bought the cello, hoping that it would be a hobby instrument and that she would now be more content to practice her piano.

Two years later, she approached me again. This time she begged me to let her quit piano lessons and begin private cello lessons. This was difficult to swallow. She was such a beautiful pianist! Cello lessons were more expensive. She was trying to tell us something, and I kind of didn't want to listen. But we went ahead and started looking for cello teachers, and by some miracle, one of the best teachers in the area was accepting students. Jessica has never looked back. Her cello is her greatest passion. And she has become just as passionate about the music that she plays. She plans to pursue the cello in college and hopefully teach music someday.

When I look at these pictures, I can only say that I am glad that I listened. I have come to learn that at around the age of 12, probably even before that, kids start to have a sense of who they are becoming or who they want to become. And if we parents will sit still and actually listen, they will try to tell us what they love and where their interests lie. If we don't ignore what they are saying or immediately try to reprogram them, we may be the facilitators of something great. We may get to just step aside and watch our child blossom naturally into what they were meant to become. It terrifies me to think how close I came to disregarding what Jessica was trying so earnestly to tell me five years ago. It would have altered who she is today. 

I would have missed this big Tchaikovsky finish. I would have missed this priceless look on her face. I would have missed that unbridled energy, as she came home from this concert at 9:30 at night and immediately began practicing her cello. I would have missed it all.

And she would have missed all of this. When your child speaks...listen...really listen. We have no idea the potential of these spirits we've been given stewardship over. Jessica is starting to steer her own life now. I am very much a counselor more than I am anything else. But I'd like to think that Neil and I gave her those wings that she is so enjoying flapping. The money and the time that we have sacrificed seems like a little thing now.

Jessica wanted me to be sure to document the bow hair she broke during that triumphant finale. She did indeed show Dvorak and Tchaikovsky who's boss.

Beautiful Music- Beautiful Heart

"Teaching music is not my main purpose. I want to make good citizens. If a child hears fine music from the day of his birth, and learns to play it himself, he develops sensitivity, discipline and endurance. He gets a beautiful heart."-Dr. Shinichi Suzuki

Last week, Sabrina graduated from Book II in the Suzuki repertoire. It has been six years since Sabrina and I started this journey together. Six years since she vehemently refused to take piano lessons like her sister and shocked me when she announced that she wanted to play the violin.

I have a deep love for the violin, an instrument I played for eight years before abandoning it for the next fifteen. It was Sabrina who encouraged me to pull it out from its home under my bed, to replace a string, and tune it up, so that I could help her as she struggled through "The Twinkle Variations". The violin had been one of my loves, and yet strangely, it had never occurred to me to encourage any of my children to play a string instrument. Sabrina rekindled a flame that had been lying dormant for some time.

To say that this journey has been nothing but lovely moments of mother and daughter exchanging special glances as we make beautiful music together would be an embellishment. I have asked myself time and time again why I allowed my most volatile child to learn one of the most difficult instruments. We have had our "freak outs" as Sabrina calls them. I may or may not have thrown a music stand against the wall at some point. And yet we have persevered together. Learning together.

We've exchanged high fives over difficult passages that have finally become easy. We've argued over the usefulness of a metronome, an object that Sabrina is convinced has only one purpose, and that is to stifle her creativity. We've debated over which are the best of Bach's minuets. I've watched Sabrina name, bond with, outgrow, say farewell to, and eventually replace four violins. Her now permanent full-sized violin, lovingly referred to as Captain Jack Aubrey, will now accompany her to all Suzuki events.

At one point, I thought that perhaps it was just time to be done with these private lessons. When your thirteen year old tells you that she would love violin if it didn't mean having to practice, play any of the Suzuki repertoire, play solos in recitals, or participate in any of these nerve-racking Suzuki events, then you start to think that maybe playing in the school orchestra is all that she really wants to do and that she is now at an age that she can make that decision. After all, I could do without a few of these freak-outs.

So then I tell the thirteen year old that if these private lessons aren't her thing, then let's just be done and focus on orchestra. That thirteen year old proceeds to tell me that she really loves her violin teacher, and she sees the value in her lessons, and can see how important practicing is, and that she in no way wants to quit. So we carry on.

And I watch her progress at her own lovely pace. I watch a girl who used to chuck her bow on the bed after a furious ten minutes with Lightly Row, stand on the stage and glide through Boccherini's Minuet with ease. I watch her vibrato and her bowings, and I remember that I have sat and watched that vibrato transform and that those rich straight bows evolved before my very eyes. I watch her sway with the music as she feels each note, and I remember why I endure the freak-outs and spewing of verbal venom. I endure it so that in the end, this child will love music. Good music. And so that she can create beautiful music. And so that she will have a beautiful heart.

I can see that love of music forming and that beautiful heart maturing. These concerts are a treat. To see a stage packed with beautiful children, with beautiful hearts, playing beautiful music, in perfect unison, gives me great hope for our future. These children will touch lives with more than just their music. I am grateful for patient mentors who help mold these kids when we parents are at our wits end. 

I sat in the audience and just soaked in the Mozart and the Bach. I held my breath through those deep double stops and light trills. I was in heaven. Absolute heaven. I echo the words of my mother, "If there aren't violins in heaven, then I don't want to go there."

It's on to book three. Sabrina already has half of Gavotte under her fingers. I'm sure we have a few freak outs ahead of us, as well as some run-ins with that cursed metronome. But there will be moments of complete elation as I watch this child master works from the masters. I don't even pull my violin out much anymore, as Sabrina is now learning music that is difficult for me to play. I only mess the poor child up anytime I try to "help" by playing along. No, now I just sit and listen, and remind her of her teacher's suggestions. I get plenty of "I know, Mom"'s, but I just ignore them because I know that deep down she really loves who she is becoming because of this whole violin experience, as do I.

Falling On Our Bums

Well, I think we have most likely covered most of the harsh winter conditions this month. We thought the massive blizzard two weeks ago was bad. We were not prepared for freezing rain. In Utah, either the lake effect dumps massive amounts of snow on us, or it is just too freezing for any moisture to dump from the sky. Yesterday, the inversion allowed the elements to align just perfectly so as to cause a frozen mist to cascade from the sky consistently throughout the day.

This caused a perfect layer of ice to coat any and all outdoor surfaces. It was quite a sight to see. I stayed bundled up in my warm house all day, but when it came time to retrieve the children from their various schools, I caught a glimpse of just how crazy this freezing rain had been. My driveway was a sheet of ice. I tried to sprinkle ice melt across the surface. It was futile. 

Picking Sabrina up from school, I watched about six giggling teenagers fall on their bums. Fortunately, Sabrina was not one of those teenagers. I have a feeling that she would not have been giggling.

I couldn't make it up my driveway. Sabrina would have to brave the ice sheet to get into the house. I then proceeded to the elementary school. Apparently, they had let school out ten minutes early. I didn't get the memo. I now got to watch little children fall on their bums. Spencer had been one of those children, but he said he was fine. They had cancelled recess since the entire blacktop looked like an ice rink. The boys made it into the vehicle without an incident.

The only child to retrieve was Jessica. I had called her and told her not to attempt to go to her car. The roads were perfectly fine due to consistent traffic and lots of ice melt, but I was worried about her making it through the ice sheet of a parking lot with her cello in hand. I had horrid visions of broken bones and a broken cello. Neither one seemed worth the risk. So I told her to stay put and Neil and I would come get her. Jessica sat at school and watched various teenagers and adults fall on their bums.

She had a cello lesson after school. I wanted to cancel, but Neil is a little braver than I. He tracted in this kind of weather on a consistent basis in Finland. Here is a picture of Neil helping Jessica skate to her teacher's front doorstep. 

And here is a picture of him shuffling across the ice with Jessica's precious cello. You can see the look of concern on Jessica's face. It's quite possible that she would break a bone before she would allow her cello to experience so much as a scratch. Which is why Neil is carrying the cello. Despite being 15 minutes late, Jessica got a full lesson, because, here's a shocker, the next student didn't show up. 

After the lesson, we went back to the high school to retrieve Jessica's car. It took some serious scraping to chip the ice away from the windows, but Neil was able to get it out of the parking lot and home without a problem.

Upon getting home, we noticed that the driveway cement was still warm enough that the ice was just sitting loosely on the top. Neil was able to scrape the ice off in shattered sheets. He shoveled the pieces onto the snow, and they would just glide smoothly across the snow. You see, all of the snow had a nice layer of ice over the top. To touch the snow was like touching an iceberg. 

I had Neil drive me to Bunko last night. And after a delightful night with the ladies, we said a short prayer in our vehicles and somehow made it home safely, despite the phone call that everyone received from the police department to avoid driving on the roads at all costs. As we drove past the park, the lights were reflecting off the sheen layer of ice that covered the snow. It literally looked like a frozen lake. We understood how treacherous the ice was, but we could't help but admire its beauty. 

Jessica woke us up at 6:00 a.m. to inform us that school would be starting two hours later due to the icy conditions. A nice happy medium between having an "Ice Day", when we haven't even made up our "Snow Day" yet,  and just turning a blind eye to the conditions and hoping that everyone somehow made it to school in one piece. The kids were thrilled, and quite frankly, so was I. I drove the kids to school in the fog. Yep, that about covers it, crazy blizzard, record breaking freezing temperatures, freezing rain, and now fog. I think it's time for some blue skies and temperatures above freezing. Wouldn't you agree?

Small Reprieve, Please?!

Remember in the olden days when winters used to be textbook? Remember when the average winter temperature was around 30 degrees? Remember when it used to snow only about 3 or 4 inches  every two weeks or so, and then remember how the sun would come out and melt the snow off the roads within 24 hours? 

Those were good times. Really mother nature? Really?!! Must we go from one winter extreme to another? Must we go from having 13 inches of snow dumped on us in twelve hours to deadly freezing rain with nothing but aching frigid temperatures in between? This makes life rough for us moms who have children to get to and from school. It is excruciating for us moms who have teenage drivers out there. 

I am simply asking for a small reprieve. Can we just get a few weeks of status quo? Please?

Torn Between Lincoln & Jefferson

"Of all humankind's diverse tools, undoubtedly the most astonishing are its books. If books were to disappear, history would disappear. So would humans."-Jorge Luis Borges

I received a gift card to Barnes & Nobles for Christmas this year. Last weekend, I finally redeemed it. Walking into Barnes & Noble is always a "Kid in a Candy Store" type experience for me. I wish I was one of those people who went to the library. I like the idea of walking out of a library with an armful of books, but it's just not me. Maybe it's that I like to sit down with a colored pencil and mark up my books with feverish abandon. Maybe it's that I like being able to pick up a book on a whim and peruse its pages. Or that I like the luxury of taking a year to read a book, picking it up and putting it down for months at a time. 

These are all valid reasons for me not entering libraries, but the truth of the matter is that I just love to own books. I love to see them sitting on my shelves, pages and pages of knowledge within my grasp just waiting to be devoured. I love the smell of new books. I love the smell of old books. I love to stumble across the familiar stains on the pages of my books, stains that remind me of the delicious salad or eclair that I was eating while I was reading that book. This is also why you may never see me snuggled up with a Kindle. I'd rather pull the book off my shelf and leaf through its pages. We all have that thing that we seem to have no problem throwing money at...books is that thing for me.

This is one of my favorite pictures. Angie has my same love for books. This photo was taken at one of the largest book stores in the country. We threw caution to the wind and took a last minute trip to Portland to enjoy the Food Festival, and we had to stop at Powell's Bookstore. Books were our only souvenirs from that trip.

I walked into Barnes & Noble and was surprised at how quickly I had my selection narrowed down to two books. The first: Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power by Jon Meacham. I've wanted to read more about Jefferson ever since learning about him in David McCullough's John Adams. I admit that I feel a certain bond to him after seeing a small portion of his library at the Library of Congress. I felt like quite a simpleton after seeing the mere 2,000 books from his original collection of over 20,000 books. The range of subjects he studied was rather intimidating.

The second choice: Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin. I've had my eyes on this gem after seeing the movie Lincoln and learning that the movie was based off this book. I was fascinated by Lincoln's politics in the movie and would love to learn more.

Hmmm. Decisions. Both books are Pulitzer Prize Winners. My $25.00 gift card just wasn't sufficient to cover both, and yet I couldn't put either one down without my heart hurting a little bit.

In the end, I caved, and bought them both. They both came home with me, and my heart felt very good about that decision. Now whether I want to read about the man who abolished slavery or the man who owned hundreds of slaves, I have the option to read about them at my leisure. But first, I have a date with Mr. Hugo. He and I have been carrying on this relationship for far too long. I must finish his 1200 page beast, so lovingly referred to as Les Miserables, before I crack open another book.

Until then, I must find a home for my two new favorite finds. Perhaps one would be comfortable next to Mrs. Lincoln, and the other might enjoy a spot perched between Benjamin Franklin and Alexander Hamilton. Yes, I think that will do nicely.

An Afternoon With the Genius

The January inversion is just about enough to make me insane. I insisted that on MLK day, we get out of the house and do something fun as a family. Since going to a warm beach was not an option, we decided to hit a museum. I had been contemplating going to the Da Vinci exhibit for some time. The tickets were surprisingly affordable, so Mr. Da Vinci it was. When I told Spencer what we were doing, he responded," What else are we doing?" This is code for, "I am less than pleased with your choice of entertainment." In this family, there is always someone completely ecstatic about our activity of choice and always someone very disgruntled, and usually a couple of neutral souls in between. It is quite impossible to pick an event that satisfies both the refined teenage girl and the active little boy, and everyone in between. So it was Jessica's turn to be ecstatic. She had secretly been hoping that we might hit this exhibit.

I picked Angie's brain about good eateries in Salt Lake. One irksome thing about living in Davis County is the complete lack of yummy eateries. So we must eat somewhere yummy every time we go into Salt Lake. After all, discovering some fabulous food joint is half of the adventure.

Ok, so we started with the food. We grabbed a doughnut at this great little shop to begin our excursion. This was partly to appease the disgruntled parties and partly because I knew this place would be closed by the time we were done with the museum. I don't know who continues to promote the fallacy that one only craves a delicious doughnut in the morning, but it sure leaves me frustrated. I, for one, crave a doughnut any time of the day and often more than once in a day. 

Angie was right. By far, best doughnuts ever!

A glazed pinwheel for Jonah.

A chocolate glazed for Spencer.

A glazed butterfly for Sabrina.

And a glazed pinwheel for Jess.

And naturally, we all picked another one for the road. You know, for that 8:00 p.m. doughnut craving. Now it was off to the Leonardo to see Da Vinci the Genius. We were pretty excited to by-pass the long line to get into the exhibit since we had purchased tickets online. Our gloating turned to dismay when we found out those "affordable" tickets we had purchased would only get us into the lame children's museum. If we actually wanted to see the Da Vinci exhibit, it would cost us double. Well, whatta you do? You purchase the stinking tickets, that's what you do. I guess we'll live on Mac n' Cheese for the rest of the week.

We quickly got over our financial woes, as we walked the exhibits. I guess I didn't really realize that Da Vinci was as much an inventor as he was an artist. It appears that both his left and right brains worked together beautifully. I guess that's  what made him such a...well, genius. 

This is a typical photo. Wherever the family is, Jonah insists on being elsewhere doing his own thing. We are always trying to choral him  over for a picture. It is at the point that I decide that he will never show up and just take the shot, that he comes flying into the picture. So here you have it, one of many Jonah blurs. 

There were beautiful replicas of some of Da Vinci's paintings.

This painting was purchased at an auction in 1998 for $20,000. After having an expert carefully examine the finger smudge on the top of the painting, it was determined that this was indeed one of Leonardo Da Vinci's original works. It is now worth 350 million dollars, and it sits in some lucky souls living room. They say there are probably more of Da Vinci's works undiscovered out there, since he never signed his work. 

We were particularly intrigued by the Mona Lisa exhibit. Much research has been done on this famous painting. One expert photographed the painting with a 240,000 megapixel camera to determine that she did originally have eyebrows and lashes. Da Vinci was a stickler about painting things as they really appeared in nature. He would not have left off eye lashes. 

There's another Jonah sighting. If you look real carefully, you can make out a faint blur that is my son. 

Spencer was intrigued by the room of mirrors. And Jessica fell in love with all of Da Vinci's sketches of the human body, complete with his notes written backwards and upside down.

Even Jonah, the perpetual skeptic when it comes to all things cultural, was intrigued by the models made of many of Da Vinci's drawings. By George, Mr. Da Vinci, you did it! You entertained my whole family for an afternoon. You truly are a genius!

Long before the Wright Brothers were at it, Leonardo Da Vinci sat in his home in the late 1400's and drew plans for a flying machine. 

And the first tanks used in World War I were patterned after Da Vinci's drawings. This exhibit, complete with early machine guns and cannons, spoke to Jonah's mechanical and military mind. 

We finished the day in the lame children's museum section. The kids did enjoy putting together their own stop-motion film. I know they were wishing for a fox in a sports jacket, but they used what they had and had a pretty great time.

Meanwhile, Jonah found an area where he could put his building skills to good use.

Aside from an unexpected headache and having to buy an over-priced soda to wash down a Motrine with, due to the place running out of bottled water, there was very little drama. Success! 

We began the day with food, it seemed only fitting that we end it in such a way. Another great Angie recommendation. Este Pizza. A little hole in the wall, that you would walk right past if you didn't know it was there. In fact, we may have done just that at one point or another. We dipped Garlic Knots in homemade marinara sauce then indulged in some of the best New York style pizza out there. 

After spending a delightful afternoon with The Genius, I think we can go home and fight our little genius' through another quarter of school. 

I will close with my favorite quote from none other than Mr. Da Vinci himself:

"Human subtlety...will never devise an invention more beautiful, more simple, or more direct than does nature, because in her inventions nothing is lacking, and nothing is superfluous."

Now if only winter would move out of here so that we can enjoy a little of that nature!

My Knight in Arctic Snow Gear

The neighborhood gets a real kick out of Neil's winter hat. They joke that they always know it's Neil when they spot his furry Arctic snow hat. I suppose that spending two winters in the Arctic Circle of Finland ruined Neil. Whether he's out grilling burgers or making his five minute commute to his heated office, he doesn't leave the house without his hat, gloves, and coat. When it comes to the cold, Neil doesn't mess around.

When we got hit with the "Storm of the Century" two weeks ago, I was heading out the door to Sabrina's violin lesson. Neil called concerned and asked whether I should be going out in the snowstorm. I gave him a typical over-confident Utahn response, "Naa! I'll be fine. The snow isn't even sticking to the roads yet!" Famous last words.

Sabrina's violin teacher's home sits nestled  in a gully on the East side of Layton. This means two things. One...that the snow accumulates earlier and faster at her house. And Two...that getting in and out of her neighborhood requires going up and down hills. A terrible combination when you are dealing with the storm of the century.

We walked out of Sabrina's violin lesson, unburied the van, then began the struggle up Cathy's hill. I was approaching a left hand turn onto an even steeper hill. I told Sabrina to check for traffic because if I yielded before the turn, there would be no making it up the hill. She assured me that the coast was clear, but my meager momentum was no match for the slippery slope. Rather than turning left, my van just slid straight across the road until I was finally able to stop it. There I sat, with my rear end impeding the already desperate traffic pulling onto that hill. 

After two failed attempts at turning the van frontward and getting it to drive upward, I called Neil, and told him that yes,  he was right, and could he please come get me out of here. I am spatially challenged. I know this about myself, and Neil knows this about me. I have a hard enough time maneuvering my van in optimum weather conditions, this was most certainly a lost cause. After 18 years of marriage and just about that many vehicular menageries, Neil has learned that when I tell him that I don't think I can maneuver myself out of a situation, it is best to believe me. His response..."I'll be right there!" 

"I'll be right there!" ended up meaning waiting an hour for Neil to drive 4 miles through a parking lot on Highway 193. A nice gentleman had helped push my van to the side so that I was no longer in the middle of the road. I managed to find my hazard lights, then Sabrina and I hunkered down and waited for Neil. We watched car after car make it up and down the hill by the skin of their teeth. And we watched a few not make it up the hill. One car slid down the hill then hit backwards into the curb. We watched the gentleman get out of the car and walk away. His abandoned vehicle may still be sitting there as we speak. 

I called to check on Jessica and the boys. She informed me that all was well and by the way, that Mor Mor had called to warn me to under no condition go on the roads today. I curtly thanked her for the advice and told her that we were stuck and that I had no idea when I might be home. I called Neil every 15 minutes to see how he was getting along and to tell him how many people had almost wrecked while I was sitting here watching. You know, validation that this was not one of my normal shenanigans, that even people with normal spatial skills were a mess on this road. Each time I called, Neil informed me that he had moved about 20 feet since the last time I called. I told him to park at the church at the top of the hill, and to not even attempt coming into this gully with his bald tires.

This was turning into quite a fiasco. Did I mention that I had not eaten since breakfast, and my blood sugar was getting dangerously low? You see, the plan was to get me a burger with a super-sized fry and Dr. Pepper immediately after the lesson. I mentioned out loud that I felt like passing out. Big mistake, considering my fourteen year old is consistently teetering on the verge of a panic attack. As she began her frenzied pleas that I please not pass out leaving her alone in this predicament, I assured her that I was only joking. I may have only been slightly joking. I can now see the wisdom in carrying a 72 hour kit in your vehicle. Any little snack might have helped at the time. A Twix and a Dr. Pepper might have helped tremendously. To stock the van with both items is on my to-do list. 

We did have plenty of gas and were able to keep warm in the van. Just as we began to lose hope and considered tromping back to Cathy's house to ask if we might have a slumber party at her house, Sabrina noticed a faint shadow approaching us yonder through the blizzard. Could it be? "Mom, it's him! It's Dad! Look I recognize his hat!" There he was, my hero coming up over the hill, dressed to the hilt in all his winter gear. You see, he had come straight from the office, but he was prepared.

He opened the van door. First words out of his mouth?..."Who's mocking the hat now?!" There was no mocking in this van. Nothing but hurrahs could be heard for our knight in arctic snow gear had come to save us from a certain doom. 

He tried driving the van forward...only spinning and sliding ensued...validation indeed. After referring to the map on his phone, he determined that going down the hill would eventually lead us to Antelope drive. I looked at him like he was a mad man, but kept my comments to myself knowing that Sabrina was sitting back there just waiting for an excuse to have an anxiety attack.

He slowly backed the van so that we were facing downhill,then began the descent. There was one point that we all sat in tense silence as the van slid down the hill. Neil couldn't stop, it was obvious. Our only saving grace was that he had the van in a low enough gear that he could at least steer. He avoided the snow plow that was stuck on one side of the road, yes, you heard me right, the snow plow was stuck. And he avoided the minivan that was stuck on the other side. And somehow we made it onto Antelope Drive. It was still slow-going to get home, but the roads were manageable on Antelope. We stopped and picked up some Cafe Rio on the way home. There's nothing like some chips and salsa to bring up that blood sugar. 

It was a three hour fiasco, but we walked through the door safe and sound and with a delicious chicken salad and some burritos to inhale while we discussed our evening's adventure with the kids. And what about the car you ask?...it spent 24 hours in that lonely church parking lot at the top of the hill. A coworker took Neil to it the next afternoon. The snow plows had completely buried the poor thing into it's parking stall. Neil eventually got it home, and yes, got it some new tires the very next day.

And that, my friends, is why you always wear your fur hat to work, never drive with bald tires, and always keep a stash of candy bars and soda in your van. 

Neil's parents funded his college. This was a tremendous gift to Neil and I, and a gift we would love to give each of our children. Sadly, the college fund just isn't there. I would like to say that it is because we simply did not have the money to save, that it literally has taken every penny just to feed and clothe these children. But the real reason we don't have gobs of money waiting in a college fund, is because we've probably taken a few too many fabulous vacations, eaten out too many delicious meals, and spent too much money on instruments and music lessons. It is what it is. Boy, we've had some great times over the last two decades!

In exactly one year, Jessica will be hearing back from colleges. She will be discovering whether they want her at their university and whether they want her enough to throw some money her direction. Admittedly, I have been agonizing over this whole idea, seeing that college tuition is now over three times what it was when Neil and I were students. 

Neil and I have learned a few things. We have learned that, to colleges, my child is no more than a dot on a grid. She is no more than a GPA and an ACT score. This is why Jessica is attending an ACT prep class every Saturday for four hours for the next month; so that she can some how pull off a score high enough to convince these schools that she is worth having. Because we all know that those ACTs are fool-proof indicators as to whether a person is ambitious, hard-working, has good people skills, is creative, and knows how to problem solve. And this is also why I am heart-broken over a chemistry teacher that has proven worthless and will most likely cost my child the precious 3.8 GPA that she has worked so hard to maintain.

We have learned a few things. We have learned that the school system is broken. There are remarkable teachers that are able to work within this system to help kids thrive and to love learning. I am so grateful for these teachers. Such teachers have given my children a passion for classic literature and taught them how to write well. They have helped a daughter, who has never had a math brain, suddenly get math. I've seen teachers instill a passion for history into my kids. Jessica wants to be a music teacher because of the amazing music teachers that have inspired her. 

But my heart has broken as I've watched this education system squelch the spirits and self-esteems of my children so many times. I've watched a son, who struggles with reading, shrink in his chair as his teacher sits in front of us at SEP conferences and discusses how poorly he's done on his Dibels tests. Neil and I have sat up for hours at night with Jessica, trying to fill in the many gaps left by her chemistry teacher so that she can retake a failed test and pull up her grade. We send her away the next morning confident because she has worked so hard and finally gets the concepts. And I watch the defeated look on her face as she informs me that afternoon, that after all of her efforts, she was only able to raise the test score from a 40% to a 49%. I've watched another child sob in her chair because her math teacher does not teach, and yet she is expected to do 60 math problems that night. 

I have learned that I have to instill the love of learning at home to combat what often happens at school. And I have learned that the public school system is often about jumping through a lot of hoops and trying to keep your child's spirit intact through the process. And we do this so that there is hope for our children to attend college, an institution, let us not forget, that is first a business, and second a place of learning. And yet there is great power in a college diploma, and there are many skills that just can not be learned any other way. 

And so we jump through the hoops. But I'm being a little more selective as to which hoops we jump and how we jump them. Jessica will be dropping chemistry next semester, and it will be replaced with basic digital photography, a class that she already has a propensity for and will most likely ace. Now she can focus on AP music theory, and AP American History, and AP English, three  classes she loves and can be successful in.  Will she be taking Math her senior year?...Nope. I am encouraging her to take a drawing class as she has not been able to touch this marvelous gift she has since school started. And what about that last semester of science credit that she's lacking?...I'm thinking animal science might be just the class. She is also looking forward to taking History Through the Great Books next year.

Maybe now, that cello that has been sitting untouched in the corner while Jessica has been pouring over chemistry problems will be dusted off again and cherished like it was before school got in the way. I look forward to watching the clouds lift from the face of my daughter as she begins to play those strings. I'm anxious to watch that smile re-emerge and to hear her breathe again with the music. I look forward to welcoming back that spirit that has so long been stifled in that stressed-out teenage body. 

The irony of the whole thing, and the thing I don't know why I was so blind to, is that that cello may very well be the thing that brings her the much needed scholarship. We were so worried about hoop jumping that we forgot to just let Jessica pursue the thing that will naturally lead to opportunity and success, the thing she loves, the thing she has already and will continue to touch lives with.

So play on my dear, let chemistry burden you no more!

Science Fair Drama

Spencer's science fair project was due today. When Neil and I were planning the size of our family all of those years ago, I don't think we took into account that having four children would mean doing a minimum of 8 science fair projects over our parenting career. I look forward to the yearly science fair like I look forward to my yearly pap-smear, which is why we tend to procrastinate this project to the night before every year.

Indeed, if you had peeked into our home last night at about 8:00, you would have found me in the basement, a cricut-cutting madwoman up to my elbows in glue and card stock. Not to take any credit from Spencer, who is my first child to take a genuine interest in his own projects. His sisters before him took more of a, "Tell me when it's done, Mom!" approach. Spencer was frustrated to see that I was starting to calculate his data, a process he was looking most forward to. So I handed that step over to him with pleasure, and was more than happy to allow him to type up all of his own statements, because, after all, this is his science fair project. 

There is not a parent in this country that has fallen for that falsehood. We all know that science fair projects were created to serve justice to those of us who handed in projects completed by our parents all those years ago. Kind of a "Someday, I hope you have to stay up all night doing your kid's science fair project!" curse coming to wicked fruition.

We are all also aware that there is an imminent consequence  waiting for those who dare procrastinate their projects until the night before. That consequence comes in the form of a computer or printer malfunction. We have a scanner and two printers. Our computer decided at 9:00 last night, half-way into the project, not to recognize a single one of those devices. We sent a fit-to-be-tied Spencer to bed with a promise that somehow we would figure this out. 

Neil sat for an hour trying to reinstall printer softwares only to get a massive error.  At that point when we were trying to decide which neighbor's doorstep we were going to show up on at 10:00 at night with a thumb-drive and a plea for the use of their printer, or heaven forbid, whether we were going to have to pull out the ol' markers, a small miracle transpired. The computer suddenly decided to kick in and recognize our printer.

I found out this morning that my tear-stricken twelve year old had been uttering a prayer in his bed last night that the Lord would somehow "heal" our computer. Interesting that that thought had never occurred to me. I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who is mindful of all of his children and who takes the time to answer the prayers of a young boy over something small, so that someday that boy will have the faith to ask the Lord for help when it is something big. 

Well, the last statement was glued in this morning, and here is the final project in all its glory. Spencer is sporting his most professional attire as he wishes to make a good impression today. Spencer's project attempted to prove whether sugar intake influences brain function. Whether his evidence is conclusive is still debatable, but one hypothesis was proven last night. If one mom and one dad are allowed little sleep and no dinner and forced into a room with an uncooperative computer, it will result in irritability and an immediate headache. Perhaps we'll save that project for Jonah next year. 

Life Happened Yesterday

I can't really explain what happened here. Sadly, it is a common phenomenon in our home. My kitchen can go from spotless, to this in two days. I am considering submitting this photo to the I Spy book series in hopes that they might feature it in a future publication.

I spy half eaten bowls of cereal. I spy children's artwork and homework. I spy a pretty cool Lego Dwarf kingdom labored on by a  boy who can think of little more than all things Hobbit these days. I spy a teenager's boots. I spy yesterday's dirty dishes as well as yesterday's groceries, still not put away. I spy remnants of school projects and book reports. I could go on and on. 

How does all of this stuff accumulate so quickly? And why does it take me so long to get it all back under control? I think I know why. My house looks like this because life happened yesterday. This photo is evidence that life is being lived with full vigor in the Watson home.

I suppose I would have had time to put those groceries away if my husband hadn't offered to take me on a lunch date the minute I walked through the door with said groceries. I suppose I could have come home and immediately begun cleaning rather than spending one precious hour scrapbooking, an activity that left me invigorated and grateful for a beautiful family and happy life. I could have done dishes instead of spelling words. Perhaps I should have told my son that he couldn't be in the school play because the inconvenience of picking him up from the school was contributing to my messy house. I might have had time to clean, if I hadn't been trying to maintain quiet in the home while Jessica conducted private cello lessons in my living room. 

I most certainly would have gone to bed with a clean kitchen if I had not gone to the temple like the Stake President had so humbly requested. And when friends met us outside the temple and invited us to catch some ice cream with them, perhaps my response should have been, "I'm sorry, but I have a cluttered kitchen waiting for me at home. Maybe some other time."

The stuff piles up in this house because there are six people living very full, very rich lives in this house, lives rich with music, service, creativity, education, passion, and religion. There will come a day when I will say, "Remember the good ol' days when...?" These are the good ol' days. I'm living them right now. Recent events have reminded me that this life is precious, that my husband is dear to me, that my children are my greatest joy, and that friends are important.

Is cleanliness and order a priority to me? You bet. Will I allow myself to sacrifice such order, if it means dating my husband, cherishing my children, enjoying my friends, and worshipping my God? Yes. Every time. Without a single regret. Better sign off now, I have a kitchen to clean. I suppose that I will only get it half cleaned, because you see, I have life to go about living.