First Week of School Musings

Some thoughts on this the first week of school:

1. My house is quiet. My kitchen is clean. Well, somewhat clean. I never do really clean.

2. The kids have some marvelous teachers this year. Spencer loves his seminary teacher! Bless those seminary teachers who make the gospel come alive for our kids when all we parents can muster is a rolling of the eyes at family scripture study.

3. Sabrina loves her creative writing teacher and AP English teacher and CE American History teacher. They all seem very passionate about what they are teaching, which makes all the difference.

4. Jonah was the one kid I worried about what with starting junior high and everything. And he's the one child who's schedule got changed the last week of summer, unbeknownst to us. All that walking his schedule and highlighting his classes and route on the school map were for not. But he survived his disastrous first day. He got to go to art twice and missed English all together. 

5. Disclosures. Disclosures for days!

6. I am less than thrilled at the administrator who decided that only 5% of a child's grade will be determined by assignments and that the rest will basically be determined by test scores. Sabrina is already in tears because she struggles in math and doesn't test well but has always given 100% on her assignments to help salvage her grade. She faithfully did her math homework Tuesday night, and she is already at a B- in the class because she didn't ace her quiz yesterday. There is now no longer a reward for those students who work hard and responsibly hand in their assignments. There is, however, great reward for those who know how to binge study and pull off great test scores with little effort. Once again, both teachers and students are trying to work within a very flawed system. Oh the frustration! It makes me want to homeschool...but then not. 

7. I can't tell you how excited I am to be done with elementary school and the dreaded year round schedule. 

8. I am grateful for a bus stop four houses down the street!

9. The kids have gone to school everyday this week with a lunch lovingly packed with fresh fruit and cheese sticks and homemade cookies. They basically have an amazing mother in her own right.

10. These children have also had a hot breakfast everyday this week. Could someone please hand me a life vest because I'm drowning in awesomeness?

11. I've been up everyday this week by 6:30 or 6:45. I'm really on a roll here.

12. I'm trying to familiarize myself with canvas so that I can get Jonah through this school year. He struggles so much but works so hard. The prayerful mommy pleas are in full force. Help me, Lord. Help me to know how to help my son.

13. Spencer fought me up to the first day of school over this whole AP Geography thing. I held my ground on this one. This kid needed a challenge. He needs to do hard things. Not very many things are hard for him. He has had way too many easy A's. He came home after the first day of school feeling good about the class.

14. Next week is when school really starts. That is when the fridge will be out of fresh fruit, and I'll really be feeling those early mornings, and there will be an abundance of homework. Next week is where this mom's stamina will be tested. Help me, Lord. Help me get through yet another school year.

Travel Tuesday: Crescent Lake (Washington Peninsula)

Quick. Let's see if I can do an entire blog post in ten minutes before I have to pick Sabrina up from school. 

One of the most pleasant afternoons I ever spent was on Crescent Lake on the Washington Peninsula in 2011.

The Washington Peninsula is one of my favorite places. It is so green and cool and rustic.

And Crescent Lake is one of my most favorite lakes. I remember this simple afternoon as the family skipped rocks. 

We rented a canoe and a rowboat and went for a ride across the calm waters. We essentially had the lake to ourselves.

Travel Tip: When you have the option to spend a little money to take some boats out on a lake, for heaven's sake, don't be cheap. Spend the money for the experience. You'll never regret it.

This was one of those afternoons where I felt like our little family were the only people on earth, and that we had maybe stumbled across the most beautiful corner of the earth. I can still hear my little kids' voices bouncing across the lake.

Life Tip: If you have the choice between spending money on things or on travel, spend it on travel. Clothes get outgrown, cars break down, furniture gets outdated, but travel is the one thing that you spend money on that gets better with time. The memories stand the test of time, and they get better and better the more times we recount them. Travel has made up the very fiber of my kids' childhoods, and I hold not a single regret for the money spent on these precious memories. In fact, I can't wait to make more memories! If only school didn't get in the way. I'm off to grab Sabrina.

Shopping For Back-To-School: Why I Need a Therapist

"Back-to-School shopping is America's annual Running of the Bulls. Only more dangerous." 

I woke up in horror last weekend when I realized that school starts a week from today, and I have done no school shopping! Remember how I promised myself that I would not set foot in another retail store for at least a month after the wedding? My kids are right. I lie. 

When we were grabbing ice cream for Spencer's birthday on Friday, I told the kids, "Quick, run to the back of the store. Grab some binders and some pencils or something!"

I eventually met up with the kids. 

"What's this? A protractor? Throw it in the cart. Index cards? Give me five. Pencil pouches? Yeah, throw ten in there. Heck, everyone go grab a backpack. How much is that backpack? $50.00?!!! Whatever. I don't care, throw it in there with the calculator." 

Is this really what I've become? Am I really this worn out, this early in the game?

Today we ran to Station Park to do some clothes shopping. It was horrible. I hated it. Old Navy had been completely ravaged. There was a line to the dressing rooms that rivaled that of the soup lines of 1930. The boys could not be choosy. They were limited to the one to two pair of pants that were actually their size. Jonah picked five t-shirts, two of which are too small, three of which are too big. The line to the register didn't want to be outdone by the line to the dressing rooms. So Jonah and I waited, and I sent Sabrina and Spencer to H & M. I waited and waited and waited. My anxiety levels were peaking as the radio blared, and the toddlers screamed, and the two cashiers rifled through clothing at their leisure. I muttered to myself, "Lady, if you had any idea how close you were to a situation here, you'd scan those cardigans a little faster."

I really think I need therapy. I may never buy another piece of clothing as long as I live. I think I'll join a nudist colony. 

The kids want to hit Target tomorrow to finish up their school shopping. Maybe I'll run away before then. If you need me, I'll be hanging out with the nudists.

A Pastry Chef On Our Hands

"Pastry is different from cooking because you have to consider the chemistry, beauty and flavor. It's not just sugar and eggs thrown together. I tell my pastry chefs to be in tune for all of this. You have to be challenged by using secret or unusual ingredients." -Ron Ben-Israel

On Tuesday Sabrina informed me that she wanted to make macaroons. I looked at her and said, "Girl, you're crazy!" There are four things that I wish I could bake but am terrified to even try. Homemade bread, apple pie with homemade crust, creme brulee, and french macaroons. These are all foods that I love, but I'm not fond of spending hours and hours in the kitchen only to end up with bread as soft as a hockey puck, burnt creme brûlée, or flat macaroons.

Sabrina is much more fearless in the kitchen. She spent all day on Youtube carefully observing a macaroon expert. Then she thoroughly read through every comment. Once she felt that she had learned adequately from everyone else's mistakes, she was ready to venture. She carefully whipped the room temperature eggs then sifted the almond flour meticulously. Then folded the eggs into the almond flour.

She methodically followed the expert's instructions with precision, and...VIOLA! This girl nailed it! She nailed the most difficult cookie to make her first time! 

I believe we have a pastry chef on our hands. I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm doing a little happy dance. I guess I'll have to be her guinea pig as she continues to nail delectable french confectionaries. 

As she pulled the macaroons out of the oven, she exclaimed, "I love to cook!" 

I replied, "Good. Because I am perfectly content to turn in my apron and spatula and leave all cooking and baking to you."

Sabrina chuckled. I wasn't kidding. I'm going to have her try creme brûlée next week:)

Boys Grow Up Too?!

"Sometimes when I need a miracle, I look into my son's eyes and realize I've already created one."

I have been serving in the young women's program off and on for the last decade now, and I have two grown daughters of my own. It's interesting the change that girls experience between the age of 12 and 13. There is a definite transformation from child to young lady during that pivotal year. So I'm used to watching my girls become women. And I'm finally accepting it.

This is Spencer on his 14th birthday:

And this is him today:

Wait what? Boys grow up too?!! This momma just can't take it anymore. What with her children growing up and all. He's nearly as tall as his very tall sister and taller than his other sister. And yes, dare I say it...taller than his mother. Well, I guess that's not saying much. But still.

Apparently the big year for boys, at least the Watson boys, is from age 14 to 15. This deep voiced fella who's sleeping longer in the mornings and growing out of his clothes faster than it takes me to walk out to the mailbox and back, is just not my little boy anymore. If I look really closely, I can see a hint of that little boy with the fuzzy blond hair and the chubby cheeks, but it's a stretch.

Happy Birthday, Spencer! I am excited to watch as you go from boy to man. I have a feeling that the potential boiling within your soul is  ready to start spilling out, and I'm thrilled that I get a front row seat! That is the joy of being a mom. Having a front row seat to the greatest metamorphosis there is. That subtle and miraculous change as our children go from babies to toddlers to kids to teenagers to fully functioning and remarkable adults. Motherhood. There is no other work like it.

Travel Tuesday

"Lighthouses are not just stone, brick, metal, and glass. There's a human story at every lighthouse; that's the story I want to tell." -Elinor Dewire

I have decided that this blog is getting rather blah. Partly because I'm ignoring it. So perhaps I'll mix things up a bit to keep from abandoning this project completely. I think I'll devote Tuesdays to recounting some of my most favorite travel memories. I almost feel silly doing so considering how little traveling I've actually done. But I do love travel. Much of my thoughts center around where I've been and where I want to go next. I will share, each Tuesday, some of my most delightful travel memories. I'll try to stay away from some of the more obvious places. You know, Disneyland or the Eiffel Tower, because everyone loves those places. I'll try to stick with those places that may be a little less known or when discussing the well-known places at least try to relate an experience that made that place unusual. Maybe I'll share a travel tip or two as well. 

First on the list: 
Heceta Head Lighthouse Keeper's House, Florence Oregon

To give you the story behind this little place, I will read from my journal entry written on the first of August 2012 while sitting on the porch of this quaint home.

"Ten years ago, we brought our three little toddlers to the Oregon Coast for the first time. We thought it might be fun to take an afternoon and travel up the coast and see some lighthouses...So we took our two year old, three year old, and six year old and stopped at this beautiful lighthouse perched a top a cliff. The lighthouse was great, but I was more intrigued by the quaint house that sat down the hill from the lighthouse. There were people sitting on the large porch of the house over-looking the vast ocean. I found myself envying those people and wondering what I might have to do to win myself a seat on that charming porch..."

"Those children are now quite grown and one more has been added to the bunch. After 18 years of marriage, we have finally pulled that little dream of staying in the Lighthouse Keeper's Quarters out of the back closets of our minds, dusted it off, and brought it to fruition...Here I sit, perched on that beautiful porch, in this perfect adirondack chair, beholding the splendor of the vast ocean in front of me. How very lucky I am! And I am referring less to the house and the view, and more to the man sitting next to me. He makes so many of my dreams a reality."

Of all the bed and breakfasts that Neil and I have stayed at, this was by far my favorite. It was not cheap but so so worth the money. We arrived at the home fairly late and just let ourselves in. A little family was seated in this parlor, enjoying a fire and wine that they had just purchased in Willamette Valley. We looked for the resident kitties but they seemed to be hiding that evening.

Neil and I made our way up the narrow staircase, stopping to look at the view from the beautiful stained glass window.

Our room was just lovely. We were so glad that we had paid a little extra for a room with a view.

We felt a little like we had stepped back in time. It had that old house smell. We threw open the windows and inhaled that cool, salty ocean air, and resolved that we would sleep with the windows open.

I have never seen screens on any windows along the Oregon Coast. Just as Neil and I had deduced that there must be no bugs in the Pacific Northwest, this monstrosity came flying into our sanctum sanctorum. The audacity! Apparently there are bugs in Oregon, and they are of the large variety. Neil finally swatted that sucker senseless but not before giving in to a sudden bout of the heebeegeebees. 

We did not back away from our resolve to sleep with the windows open. But we did turn out the lights and pulled the sheer curtains over the windows. We were unmolested by any more hideous specimen that evening. We drifted off to sleep. The full moon was glowing through the window. The rhythmic sound of the ocean acted as a lullaby. I found myself waking up in the night and listening for the ocean. As soon as I could hear its rushing sound, I would relax and go back to sleep.

We woke up bright and early. The sun and the sea beckoned us to come out and enjoy them. And so we did.

We ventured out onto that gorgeous porch. I felt a little Anne Lindberg-esque with such a view before me. The ocean makes me want to do one of two things...to read or to write. This morning, writing won out, and I'm so glad. I'm so glad that I wrote down the thoughts dancing through my mind that cool peaceful morning.

And all of this wasn't even the best part. The best part was the breakfast. The seven course breakfast. My salivary glands get all excited just thinking about it. 

All of the guests were called into breakfast at around 9:00. We got to know one another as the hostess began to bring out each course. There was the couple that we had met in the parlor the night before. They were from Florida and had come with their eleven year old daughter who had done a state report on Oregon. They had already taken kayaks down the Rogue River and were planning on taking ATV's to the dunes that afternoon. There was also the newlywed couple from Portland. 

The food. Oh the food. There was a quiche and sweet bread that were to die for. And a berry smoothie made from local berries to clear the palate. The sausage was made from local grass-fed pork, and the goat cheese came from just down the lane, and the salmon was fresh from the sea. All the vegetables and herbs came from the garden just outside the window. Breakfast was a two hour experience that I just reveled in. I know that it's silly to expect to be able to have a two hour dining experience every morning. After all, we are not French aristocrats. But there was something about that unhurried morning in that old house, eating food that had been prepared with such great care, among people who were now our friends because of the experience we had shared in that house, that made me just wish that this was my normal life. Our lives are too hurried. We don't stop to revel in good food and good company often enough.

It was time to leave that picturesque house. We had spent a moment in another time, but the 21st century was calling us back. We left with great reluctance. I will leave with some final thoughts from my journal:

"I had a sense of what it must have been like to live in this house with my family one hundred years ago. Sitting around the fire in that little parlor doing my stitchery while the children quietly played. Having my husband return after checking the lighthouse. Taking our kerosene lamps with us as we headed up the narrow winding staircase to our bedrooms. It would be a simple life perched here next to the Heceta Head Lighthouse one hundred years ago. It would be a most isolating life. But today, I think it would not be a bad life at all. Just me and Neil and our beautiful children living a quiet, intimate life here in one of the most beautiful places on the Oregon Coast, in this charming house. Yes, it would be a good life! And I have to say that I am a little heartbroken at the idea of going home and not waking up to the cool ocean air streaming through my window and the sound of the waves pulling me out of my slumber."

I realize that this is not Tuesday. But it's Thursday, and that's almost the same.  I'm so excited at the notion of actually completing a post that I'm just going to hit publish with no regrets. I'm so excited to be doing something other than planning a wedding right now, that I have cause to celebrate. I wish I was going somewhere. Somewhere like Florence Oregon, or Paris, or Seattle, or anywhere. For now, I'll just remember the places I've been. For now, that will have to be enough. Until next Travel Tuesday. Adieu.