Kids with a camera

I'm always amused (and irritated) when I go to use my camera and when I turn it on, I find that my children have - at some point- gotten a hold of it and taken random and bizarre photos. Here's what I found today...

Jane and Lizzy and I went to a birthday party for our friend, Brooklyn, today. That girl is amazing. She's turning 15 tomorrow and had a party held in a church with a live band and a gazillion people there who all agree with me that she's amazing.

I bring this up because I sat next to Brooklyn's mom, thinking how I don't know another person in the whole world who could pull off that kind of a rockin' birthday party other than Brooklyn, and then I looked up to see my eldest daughter full on skanking, by herself, having a grand old time in the middle of the dance floor. One would never have guessed that mere minutes before, she was so terrified of the building and everything in it that she would hardly let go of my leg and broke into tears at least a couple of times.

At that point, I leaned over to Brooklyn's mom and thinking that she could probably relate, I asked "Did you ever have a moment when you looked at your daughter and thought to yourself 'that girl is a piece of work.'? Because I'm having one of those moments."

Actually, I have a lot of those moments with Jane. Good heavens, if we all make through her teenage years, it will be a miracle. But I'd never change her even if I could because I love a girl with spirit and that is why I love Jane. And Brooklyn too.

Moving on, Lizzy also got her sticky little fingers on my camera. And they WERE sticky. Literally. Like, several wipees were employed in an effort to restore the camera to it's original 'not sticky' state.

Although I believe we'd all prefer to see them from a little further distance, one must admit that my middle child has some amazing eyelashes.

They look ever better when she doesn't appear as though she's been drugged.

But in all fairness, she probably had been.

Don't judge me.

You're judging me, aren't you?

Dealing with a toddler with insomnia is really no fun.

I promise.

For Pete's sake, why do I always seem compelled to talk about the occasions wherein I medicate my children on this blog? I really don't understand myself sometimes. I'd better just delete this whole paragraph before you

a) think I'm a bad parent for drugging my child on a regular basis

b) think that I'm a lunatic or

c) I regret publishing it.

Oh, nevermind. I don't care that much.

Reason No. 52 for me to be reluctantly supportive of Jane's dance career

Fact: I'm not a dancer.

Never have been. And at this point, I doubt I ever will be. My mom tried, she really did, but I just wasn't into it.

I think that it costs ridiculous amounts of money.

I think that it sexualizes young girls.

I think that it puts too much stress on kids that need to spend more time living life and less time dancing.

I think the outfits are almost exclusively without taste.

I think that it points out the physical flaws and differences in girls, breeding insecurities, undue pride and a shallow way of thinking about their own value.

*I think that "dance moms" that get worked up over how their daughter looks in this year's costume and how advanced her class is are completely obnoxious.

I could go on, but in an effort to prevent you all from thinking that I'm a total stick in the mud, I'll stop there.

Suffice it to say that I've never understood the drama, the stress, the whole culture behind dance and I've been pleased that I've been able to avoid it all my life... until now.

Fact: Jane is a dancer. She likes it and I think she's got potential to be really good at it.

This puts me in a tough spot.

For most people? Not so tough.

For me? A woman who has deep seated moral opposition to the art that has probably directly resulted from knowing that so many of my friends that I grew up with in Las Vegas ultimately became strippers to pay the bills instead of doing something more productive with their dance training (not to mention my own inability to succeed at it and all the girls who did that ultimately made me feel inferior to them)? I'm in a tough spot.

I keep worrying and worrying about what to do next year. It's a scary thing when you realize that the judgement calls you make when your child is 5 can have serious long term effects on the person that they ultimately become. Being a mom totally sucks sometimes.

But I can't think about that right now. I'll go crazy if I do. I'll think about that tomorrow.

Today is Jane's dance recital and Reason No. 52 for me to be reluctantly supportive of Jane's career in dance would be her neon pink, zebra print, hot shorts/halter top combo of a costume.

The other ones are neon green. I'm just glad that I got the pink one.

Yes, my daughter is wearing makeup. Don't judge me. She's always trying to put it on, so we have a deal that she'll stay out of my drawers if I promise to put in on her for dance recitals and halloween.

I DO think that next year, she's going to start focusing on ballet more. Wanna see why?

She just poses like that on her own. This photo's just screaming for some ballet slippers and a tutu. And less neon pink zebra print.

Show off.

btw... did I ever mention that I finally picked a color for my new front door? Guess what color it turned out.

These pictures were taken a few minutes ago BEFORE her recital. I'll get some more when we go and post those later. There's a whole 'nother classy outfit to photograph.

Mostly, this post exists because I'm feeling tormented by dance at the moment and I needed someone to talk this over with. Thank you computer. I know that YOU'RE always there for me, unlike my husband who is currently asleep and completely oblivious to how I suffer.

That was a joke.

Ya, this post makes me sound like a total stick in the mud. I'll try to liven up a bit for the next one.

* You should know that I'm totally turning into a "dance mom." How can this be happening?

Is it wrong?

Is it wrong that Lizzy reminds me of Ash from The Fantastic Mr. Fox?

"What is this with the cape and the pants tucked into your socks?"

If you haven't actually SEEN The Fantastic Mr. Fox yet, I suggest that you repent of your past sins and view it as soon as humanly possible. I'd loan you my copy, but I plan on watching it today.

If you haven't actually HEARD of the Fantastic Mr. Fox yet, I am truly sorry for you and in an effort to rectify the unfortunate situation, here's a link to a preview.

http://www.firstshowing.net/2009/07/30/must-watch-wes-andersons-fantastic-mr-fox-trailer/

Up at the crack

While we were vacationing over the weekend, we made a trip (or two) down to sunny St. George. We generally go to St. George when we visit my parents. Surprisingly enough, Summit, Utah isn't the busting metropolis that you'd expect and sometimes we just feel the need to get out. Plus, they have the world's most fabulous Home Goods down there. I always find myself tempted to throw away our life's savings in a single shopping trip. For this reason, the husbands and children are not such big fans of our St. George trips. Apparently the draw to the St. George Home Goods isn't universal.

Anyway, we decided to try something different this time and instead of heading straight for the shopping, we did something fun. We went to the local, convenient slot canyon to play around for a while.

Did I mention that Leslie and her kids were there too?

I had a picture of Leslie holding Davie that I thought was pretty cute and I was going to post it, but when she pointed out that she looked pregnant in it (and she did), I decided not to do that to her.

Exploration...

Lizzy liked it there.

Jane too, apparently.

It was fun to see the kids finding their inner mt. goats. I realized that we really don't give them the chance to get out and climb around nearly enough. By the end of the weekend, they were much more comfortable hopping on rocks.

It's a useful skill, that hopping on rocks. One that each child should be given the opportunity to master.

We also went to the Brigham Young Winter Home. Look at us being tourists! Leslie was supposed to get a photo of my family, but instead of waiting until I was able to gather my chicks, she took this, then she gave the camera back and told me that it was time to go.

I've chosen to forgive her.

The children may have been unavailable to photograph as a result of the tantrums/unruly behavior/exhaustion that resulted from said trip to the Brigham Young Winter Home.

But instead of putting them out of their misery and heading home, we decided to reward their tantrums by taking them to get frozen custard.

Look at Davie. You can see the sleep deprivation on his face.

And in Charlie's loopy smile.

I'm willing to put up with a lot to consume frozen custard.

And with that, we finally loaded our young family in the minivan, made sure they were all nice and comfortable and made the hour drive back to Summit...

..right after I went to the Home Goods.

Road Trip

We just got back from a little weekend excursion and I'm tired. Are you tired too? Sometimes long weekends end up making us more tired instead of better rested.

Ya, so I'm tired. And I think a little sick, although I can't figure out what I might have. My husband made me some tea and I'm watching a movie on HBO that is making me cry every 10 seconds. He's doing something in his office that involves NOT watching me cry at a movie every 10 seconds. I really need to get control over my tears, it's just plain annoying how often I cry.

Anyway, point being that I don't really have the energy to post a whole lot, but we DID just get back from a weekend excursion and I wanted to post something.

These are photos from our car ride down to grandma's house.

I'd like to bear my testimony of buying your kids Happy Meals on the way out of town.

They get all filled up, they get a new toy that keeps them entertained (which only works to your advantage if you can tune out the ones that make noise),

and apparently the boxes make for a good time as well.

Oh, children of mine.... I love you all. And I'm super glad that you are all asleep because tomorrow, life goes back to normal. And normal will not include getting Happy Meals for dinner.

Remember when I said...

that I was going to start posting crafting stuff on this blog? Well my words have come back to haunt you.

This post is to inform people that I am restocking my Etsy store. Because much to my dismay, money doesn't grow on trees and new fancy shmancy chairs and new doors and 20 Leonardo Divinci sketches and their frames (i'll tell you about it later) don't pay for themselves.

Head on over to have a looksey, if you'd like.

I want you all to know a couple of things

1 - I am not a photographer. More specifically, I am not a food photographer.

2 - That said... I made this:

Yes I did.

That would be an Italian Cream Cake made from scratch. SCRATCH, I tell you! With cream cheese coconut frosting and crusted in home toasted coconut. I like coconut. You should too. I understand that there are actually people out there who don't like coconut? I pity your tastebuds. Because you couldn't even have enjoyed this.

And it was very much enjoyed. And I think that I'm still trying to jog off the calories that were consumed as a result of it. Mmmmm. Coconut.

I got the recipe from here

http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2009/07/billies-italian-cream-cake-recipe/

so now you can make one too. And you should. It'll be a good way to push through your coconut aversion.