"If you move into a bigger place, they will come..."

This summer, Spencer, Grace and I took a crash course in hospitality and hotel management. I don't know for sure if we passed the course, but I think I can say that we didn't...fail?

Starting in mid-June and ending with the month of August, we hosted five different sets of family/friend variations. Some booked us for only a night, and some chose a more extended stay. We accept all kinds. Oh Ohio, the crossroads of the Midwest. :)

We only got our first visitors for a night and a few hours the next day, but we made the most of our time. Jennie and Grant Sleight and their 2 cute little boys stopped by on their way back to Colorado from a whirlwind trip to DC. We made homemade rolls together (since I'm supposed to be mastering them this year...ha) and talked and talked. I swear I took pictures of the finished product, but they seem to have disappeared. Sorry, Jennie. We ate them all and I promise they looked good. Since there is no evidence to prove otherwise, I think I can safely say that they were the best looking rolls EVER. :) At least...they beat my last lumpy, little, rock-like attempts.

Our next visitors stayed for a bit longer, but unfortunately, we slacked on taking pictures. Spencer's sister Esther and her family stayed with us for a few days over the fourth of July. It was fantastic and got us out doing fun things we'd usually put off or just not do. And THAT, folks, is the beauty of having lots of visitors. :) We were sooo happy to host Esther and her family. Grace got her fill of older boy cousins, which are most definitely her favorite kind of cousin. Spencer got his fill of lighting off illegal fireworks... Oh Spencer.

Next came a visit from Spencer's mom, my lovely mother-in-law. She visited for the longest time--a little over two weeks--and it really couldn't have gone better. I've never had to do the dishes so little in my life. :) It was wonderful. She can come back whenever and however often she wants.

And Grace. Oh Grace. Grace loved having Grandma here. Non-stop visits to the park, treats, and unlimited adult attention. Does it get any better for a three year old? Not to mention Grandma came to us fresh off a year spent in China. All I can say is that Grace had the coolest singing, Chinese birthday candle ever.

Amazingly, Gwen actually served her LDS mission some 40-plus years ago in our very own Columbus, OH. She spent time working in two areas within our stake boundaries, one of which we had recently lived in. It was pretty great. We went on several adventures together exploring places she remembered and were even able to reconnect with a really great bishop that she'd worked with. It was her first time back. :)

Slate Run Living Historical Farm. Loved it. But could've done without the near eye witnessing of a chicken beheading. That's just not something I want Grace to experience yet...

Ohio State Fair. Grace's first carousel, ferris wheel, and gigantic slide ride. All were very successful, but required a lot of pre-ride encouragement.

Our next visitors were really short-lived, but we enjoyed them all the same. Spencer's oldest brother Daniel and his family stayed with us for a night on their trek home from Quebec to Utah. We had just enough time to stay up late the night they got here, have breakfast together, and go check out a local Indian burial mound. Not too shabby for a visit of less than twelve hours. Oh, and again with the older boy cousins. Grace was in heaven.

Our last visitors had their stay extended a few days by Hurricane Irene. See? There are always good things that come from the bad. Camilla and her sweet, little boy returned to Columbus to stay with us and we couldn't have been happier. They moved from Columbus to the DC area (one of the reasons for our DC visit last fall...) last summer and we had missed them terribly. I can't remember the last time I stayed up so ridiculously late so many nights in a row. But it was so worth it.

See? We've been busy. I'm sure you all knew I had a completely reasonable excuse for falling off the face of the blogging world...

Minimalism

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that there is almost nothing I like as much as I like de-junking. There, I said it. I get more of a high out of getting rid of things than acquiring them. And, believe me, I do like acquiring things so that's saying a lot.

But there's just something about being able to look at an object and say, "I don't need you anymore." There's just something about the feeling of having control over your possessions, rather than them controlling you. It's empowering. And wonderful. And, let's be honest, something that frequent moves make utterly and completely imperative.

This post was born as I sorted through my and my family's material life just this past month. We completed our fifth move since Grace was born (she's three...) and our seventh since we've been married. While this number may seem trivial to many, it's a lot to a girl who spent the first eighteen years of her life in the same house. The biggest change I went through was the periodic rearrangement of furniture that came from pure and unadulterated summer boredom.

But, back to the task at hand. Each time we move, I try to get rid of clothes. And, each time we move, I plead with Spencer to do the same---fruitlessly. See, while I pride myself on being fairly non-sentimental, Spencer is as sentimental as they come. While my church/girl scout/choir/cross country/yearbook t-shirts from high school have been living it up in various thrift stores throughout the country for years, Spencer's football/wrestling/soccer/choir/scout day camp/mission/family reunion/you-get-the-picture shirts are still sitting pretty in our dresser drawers.

Knowing these mean a lot to him, I always try to gently broach the subject come move time. "Spencer, I don't think I've ever seen you wear this shirt. Do you think we might...?" or "Spencer, I think this shirt would benefit kids on the west side so much. Maybe we could...?" Each time, perhaps one or two shirts have been deported. But I get it. He doesn't have to be like me. My way is not necessarily the best, it's just my way. But hope springs eternal...

I've discussed this issue various times with friends and they always suggest I make a t-shirt quilt. Which...is a fabulous idea, of course. If I was the quilting type. Or the crafty type at all. But I'm not. And the idea of cutting up Spencer's t-shirts and patching them together piece by piece literally makes me want to throw-up. So...that's just not going to happen.

But then, miracle of miracles, this past move something entirely new occurred. I caught Spencer during a magical moment of pure and utter material apathy. It was glorious to behold.

"What about this shirt?" says Anna.

"Toss it," says Spencer.

"And this one?" Anna inserts timidly, not daring to test her luck too much.

"It can go," comes the reply.

"Surely you want to keep this one?" says Anna, beginning to feel a little worried but so happy she can hardly contain it.

"Nope."

This, folks, is how I know that Spencer loves me. While that apathetic moment was as rare as it was magical, Spencer has not gone searching for his shirts at Goodwill or griped about me taking advantage of him during a weak moment. He has taken my minimalist/let's-keep-our lives-completely-encapsulated-in-clear, plastic-containers-obsession and met me halfway. He has given me a good portion of his old t-shirts. What more could a crazy, control freak ask for?

"Livin' on a Prayer"

Now, those of you who really know us, know that we aren't big concert goers. I've only ever been to one (Jack Johnson) and Spencer's track record is about the same as mine.

But...if there's one thing we are into, it's radio contests. And free stuff. We lap that right up. And for some reason, Spencer and I seem to have the magical touch. One Christmas, we won tickets to two different performances, and Spencer won every single one of my Christmas presents. :) Amazing, I tell you. Last summer, we won tickets to the Ohio State Fair. Just a few nights ago, Spencer was this close to winning American Idol tickets. Honestly, it's radio contests that keep me from just listening to NPR all the time.

So, a few months ago, when I heard a radio announcer shout out a number to call for "tickets," I automatically hopped on board. I didn't really know what was up for grabs, but gosh darn it, I wanted it. :) Much to my surprise, I was whichever caller they were looking for and a highly enthusiastic radio announcer informed me I was on my way to see Bon Jovi at Nationwide Arena. With this said, he practically gushed about how fantastic Bon Jovi was in concert, and asked me if I was a fan.

Caught red-handed.

I quickly racked my brain for any Bon Jovi songs I knew. "It's My Life" and "Livin' On a Prayer" were all I could muster. Since I didn't dislike those songs per say, I said (in a high pitched squeak), "Yeah...?" It was rather unconvincing, but he gave me the tickets anyway.

Luckily, Spencer was much more excited than I was, so my guilt at stealing the tickets from some Bon Jovi aficionado who had probably stayed up half the night prepping his dialing finger was assuaged. But...that didn't keep me from looking up basic facts about him just before the concert so that I could toss them around if anyone wanted me to prove anything. :)

And...I was duly impressed. Bon Jovi is really good in concert, for anyone who's on the fence about going. And I knew quite a few more songs than I thought. Spencer could hardly contain himself upon seeing all the gadgets the band used for the show (fancy screens, etc.), and kept on exclaiming things like, "Whoever engineered those things is a genius!" and "Whoa, he's using them as steps now?!" or "Do you have any idea how much those probably cost?!" Fancy technology is always the way to Spencer's heart.

Dinner at the North Market before the show

We didn't get the memo that rock stars apparently start their concerts

whenever they're good and ready. We had a lot of time to chill in our seats.

Our View:

All in all, we had a great night. We danced (badly), we sang (off-key), and we fit in perfectly with everyone else who was doing the exact same thing. Could we now be called Bon Jovi fans? I don't know for sure, but I will say this: when "Wanted, Dead or Alive" came on the radio the other day, I didn't change it. :)

Guilt-Free Parenting

This week has just been one of those weeks. One of those weeks where I felt the need to check two parenting books out from the library, but probably should have checked out ten. One of those weeks where I read said parenting books in two days. One of those weeks where I made Spencer listen to hours of "are we even fit to be parents!?" rants. One of those weeks where I spent hours feeling guilt over my own insecurities, failings, and weaknesses as a parent. One of those weeks where I wondered if my daughter would really make it to her third birthday without being thrown out the window by her crazed mommy first...

But then came our nightly ritual.

Either Spencer or I wake up Grace every night before we go to bed in order to take her to the bathroom. Now, do I feel like this is fantastic, award-worthy parenting? Not really. Do I worry that, by doing this, she will never learn how to stay dry overnight on her own? Sometimes. Do I feel guilty about possibly impeding her urinary competence? But of course! It's me we're talking about here. I am the Queen of Guilt! But...do I care?

Not really.

As I picked Grace up out of her bed tonight and she cuddled comfortably into my chest, I felt nothing but happiness. As she clung to my neck, leaned against me for support, and kissed my cheek, I couldn't help but cry a little. As she smiled at me and laughed out loud about something that only sleepy delusion can make funny, I just felt lucky. Lucky to have this moment, every night, with my sweet little girl. As she told me she loved me "so much" and cuddled back into her covers happily, I couldn't help but stay there by her side for a little while.

This is how I get through those nasty tantrums. This is how I remember how much I love my daughter after she screams and screams about nothing in particular. This is how I remember why I chose to be a mother. Come what may, as long as she permits, I will wake her up and share those sweet, amazing moments with my imperfect, fantastic little girl.

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

-Robert Munsch

Beauty School Drop-Out

About three weeks ago, I decided to cut Grace's hair

...while she was in the tub

...without Spencer around

...with dollar store scissors.

About .5 seconds into the haircut (after a good two inches of hair was floating around in the tub...), I realized it was a mistake.

You see, sometimes I just want to do something drastic. Sometimes, I need something (however small) to change in my life. And sometimes...I make emotional, irrational decisions.

Sure, I'd been thinking about evening out her hair for a while to get rid of that "baby hair" look she had. But, in those thoughts, she was sitting up straight-ish in a chair, I was using our nice scissors, and Spencer was there to give feedback. Sigh...

So, I cut. And re-cut. And re-cut again. Until the poor little girl needed a good neck-shaving. Which I can't bring myself to do.

So, here's to the fact that toddlers are very forgiving. And forgetful. And unaware of social norms. And very, very suggestible. :) And here's to a lot of really nice people who have assured me that her hair looks just fine. (while chuckling to themselves inside, no doubt...)

Sorry, Grace. I did my best. Next time, we're takin' the plunge and heading to a beauty parlor.

Day Trippers

Spencer's spring break was the past couple of weeks so we decided to check out some of the local highlights. We gassed up our rarely working car (okay, that's a little bit of a exaggeration, but...) and headed west to the exotic city of....Newark, OH. Yeah, trip funds were a little tight this year. But honestly, we had a great time. It was right up our alley and just what we were hoping for.

Our first stop was the Newark Earthworks site. These are large mounds of earth built by an indigenous group referred to as the Hopewell culture between 100 BC and 500 AD. They look like...very nicely shaped hills. But the formations they make (creating perfect circles, parallel lines, octagons, etc.) stretch(ed) for miles and are remarkable in the way they correspond to the moon and the stars. They describe the mounds as "part cathedral, part cemetery, and part astronomical observatory." Not that we could see any of that, but they had it nicely displayed and explained in the museum. :)

We only visited the "Great Circle" because...most of the original structures are either destroyed or currently part of a golf course. You know how it is. But we're glad we went. You can see part of the "Great Circle" in the above picture with Spencer and Grace.

Descending from an earthwork.

Conquering an earthwork. Grace loved climbing up and down these and kept saying we needed to get to the "big red hill." Dora the Explorer, anyone?

We thought these might have been vultures. Gross.
I just liked this one.

The huge, broken tree that we probably were not supposed to climb on...but did. :)

After a picnic lunch, we headed to yet another fantastic Newark landmark: the Longaberger building. AKA...the World's Largest Basket. Appropriately, the Longaberger company specializes in making hand-crafted baskets. Baskets like unto this one:

At the end of the day, we felt like this:

But we're so glad we went. Thank you roadsideamerica.com.

Back to my Roots

Growing, up my parents had a huge garden that occupied our entire side yard. My grandparents had an even more gigantic garden in their backyard (still do). I can't say that all the memories I have of working in those gardens with my family were positive, BUT...some of them were.

Shelling fresh peas was always a bright spot. Early, summer morning weeding sessions---not so much. But, at one point, I did happily plant and cultivate my own little bunch of radishes. I've always loved a good radish. :)

With that semblance of success in mind, I have begun my own miniature herb garden. I figured I should start small, and see where we can go from there. Last summer I "herb-sat" for a neighbor friend of mine while she went on vacation and her herbs didn't completely wither up and die, so...here's hoping. I also "herb-sat" for my sister, Ellie. Her basil developed some kind of white, sticky mucus gunk under my watch, so...I just won't focus on that. :)

Here's what I have so far (basil, parsley, cilantro, and chives):

My chives are still MIA. But look at all that basil!

I'm excited for a summer full of fresh herbs.