Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving is the most wonderful time of the year. It's the one day I love to cook as much as I love to eat. And it's the one day I get to sleep in until 7am. So much to be thankful for! Right now, we're all laying around watching Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, and it's Thursday so The Office will be on too. And Garrett is sick, so he is sitting still long enough for me to snuggle him. 

This morning Alan and Zach went off to play in the ward Turkey Bowl and I stayed home and scrubbed the kitchen floor. (Turkey tastes better when the kitchen floor is clean.)  I was going to scrub the floor yesterday, but I got busy grading research papers and watching Wyatt and Garrett win 2nd and 3rd place in the Turkey Trot and cheering at Tatum's soccer games. 

When Alan and Zach returned from the Turkey Bowl, Zach did the touchdown dance because the Young Men beat the Elders, and I did the touchdown dance because Alan didn't throw his back out during the game, (so we can still get up for Black Friday shopping at 3 a.m.)

Today I am giving thanks that my kids are healthy and happy, and young enough that I can still control them. But mostly I'm giving thanks for Alan because he is such a great dad, but also a great mom. He has saved the day many, many times this past month. He is consistent and persistent and resistant. I hope and pray I never have to go through a single Thanksgiving without him. If so, there will be puddles of tears in the gravy.

Alan and I worked away in the kitchen, side by side, for the better part of the morning and then we all sat down and worked away at our turkey for the better part of 15 minutes. We strategized this year and went to the beach before dinner rather than after. The plan was to release some serotonin before we consumed some tryptophan. We thought it might prevent the after-dinner crash. But it didn't. I actually nodded off twice during dinner, and I slept all the way through the clean-up and the pumpkin pie. (Next time I take a red-eye flight I'm going to hide a turkey in my carry on so I can sleep on the plane.)

During dinner we went around the table and said what we were thankful for. Garrett said he was thankful for Thanksgiving and Wyatt said he was thankful for the food. When it came to me, I said I was thankful for Tatum's soccer coach because she is really showing Tatum what she's made of. (She had to run and do drills on the beach for an hour today.) Tatum and Zach put the rest of us to shame when they said they were thankful for the gospel and for Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father and the Holy Ghost and the Prophet and the temple.

"Oh right, that too . . . " I added. 

Then Alan got all mushy and about being thankful for his beautiful wife. Then he said, "Just kidding." (just kidding. He didn't say just kidding.)

Overall is was a pretty boring day, but I love boring! Give me boring or give me death! We missed our families though, and I got happy/sad/envious watching the slideshow Eric put together of my family eating my piece of the pumpkin pie.

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving!

What a difference a coach makes!

Tonight Tatum came bounding up the stairs after her soccer game with a big gigantic smile on her face.   She had a black card in her hand with her name written across the front in gold glitter.  It was from her high school soccer coach.  She wrote a personal letter to each girl on her team. 

How nice is that?

The letter was direct and pointed and encouraging.  My jaw hit the floor when I read it because this insightful, supportive coach already recognizes Tatum's strengths, weaknesses and fears perfectly.   SHE is INSTILLING CONFIDENCE in my DAUGHTER.  That's my second dream come true tonight (second to having a musician in the house during the Christmas spirit.)    

Actually that's the best dream come, even better than having a muscian in the house at Christmas.  Nothing better than having someone help your child see how awesome they are.   Cause they don't believe US!

And Tatum is responding.  She's playing up!  

It's amazing what can happen when someone believes in you. 

Here Come the Holidays!

It's Friday night and Zach is practicing Christmas songs on his trombone. Right in my ear.

I love it! It's the first year we've had a musician in the house for the holidays. My dream come true. In my next life I will not be a writer, or a domestic goddess, or a teacher, or a Relief Society President. I will be a HARD CORE ROCK STAR! With a shaka tattoo!

For now I will live vicariously through my kids.

The twins are watching Holes and drinking hot chocolate because it's pouring rain. I almost turned on the oven today to warm up, but our utilities bill gave me a heart attack this month so I refrained.

Tatum and Alan are on their way home from town. She had a soccer game. Or did I tell you the big news? Tatum made the varsity soccer team. As a freshman. She was so worried she wouldn't make the J.V. team that she never had time to worry that she wouldn't make the varsity team.

She played the whole entire game tonight and Alan had a smile in his voice when he said "She played great!" so I think she played great.

Tomorrow all the kids have their final tennis match of the season. It looks like both teams will go the the sectionals because we're in 1st and 2nd place. I will upload photos of the season this weekend. I'm determined to catch up before Thanksgiving so I can enjoy the Turkey and the pies without any lingering guilt (or belated guilt).

Alan has been asked to coach Kahuku Intermediate basketball team, which works out peachy for Zach since this is his first year to shine on the court. It's a whole new ball game now that our world revolves around high school sports.

I guess I can always blog my brains out.

I'm nearly finished teaching my classes for the semester. Only 50 pages of literature, 35 essays, 80 research papers and 40 finals left to go. Plus a bunch of miscelleny.

And I'm ducking becomes . . . look out!

HERE COME THE HOLIDAYS!

(And BLACK FRIDAY!) (YaY!)

Belated Guilt

This morning Wyatt and Garrett were acting strange. Strange in a conspiratory way. At 7:39 they approached me, arm in arm, twin to twin and said, "Mom, we've decided we're not going to school today."

Which is strange considering they rarely have to go to school anyway. In Hawaii they have 1-2 days off a week and if they don't have a day off, they get out early. But the DOE has added an extra 5 minutes to every school day so it evens out.

In fact they are out of school tomorrow. Don't ask me why. I just do what the state tells me to do. Luckily tonight we are FINALLY having their birthday sleepover so I replied:

"Okay, I'd love to have you stay home. I need help scrubbing the bathrooms anyway, so it couldn't be a more perfect day for you to stay home. But, shucks, we'll have to cancel your birthday sleepover."

They were out the door by 7:41 a.m.

So today will be spent preparing, out of love and guilt, for their shamefully belated birthday party. They want to watch Get Smart the movie, plus Get Smart season one (Sooo funny, that Maxwell Smart) and Kung Fu Panda. They want rootbeer floats and Doritos and Cheetos. Sounds managable. If I didn't have so much guilt I would have just taken them to Ice Palace and had the whole thing over within 3 hours, but no use crying over spilt milk.

Alan has no guilt whatsoever. He'll be spending the evening locked in the bedroom watching Dancing with the Stars.

Smile and Be Happy (Birthday Tatum!)

Anyone who knows Tatum knows her motto for years and years and years (well she's barely turning 14 so maybe that's a bit overstated) is Smile and Be Happy!  

It's on a magnet on the fridge.  It's her answering machine message on her cell phone.  It's the name of her blog.  When she dies, I'll have it carved on her grave stone.  (Though that will seem a bit oxy-moronic won't it?) 

So today is not only her birthday, but it's also the 14th anniversary of my initiation into the secret society of women.  It's that private club where the password is epidural.  You can totally tell which women are members of this club by their reaction to the password.  If their eyes glaze over and their smile doesn't slip, you know they're an outsider.   

Since Tatum was my first born I was ignorant of the significance of the password, but after 18 hours of bone crushing labor, I will praise the holy name of epidural forever and ever, amen. 

My mom kept saying silly irritating things to me while I was weeping and wailing and gnashing my teeth.  Things like, "It will all be worth it when it's over!"  After I punched her I realized she was dead right.  And 14 years later it HAS been so worth it.  

We tried for several years to get Tatum into our life.  For this purpose we gave her a name that means One who brings joy to others.   She has lived up to her name in every sense.   Her middle name is my mom's, only in Hawaiian.  (Sheila, or Kila in Hawaiian).  It means Long awaited one!  After all the waiting and all the labor pain she finally arrived on October 19th, 1994, in the White Plains hospital in New York.   It was the most amazing moment of my life up to that point.  I felt her spirit enter the room immediately and Alan turned on the tears.  He held her and kept saying  "She's so beautiful" while I kept saying, "that HURT so bad!"   

But who cares, because now we have TATUM!  She is the most incredible daughter in the world.  She's smart and she's gorgeous and she's a talented artist, writer, scrapbooker, singer, dancer, athlete.  And she's almost as funny as me, but not quite.  She'll get there.  

Best of all she has a super strong testimony of Jesus Christ and she consistently prays, writes in her journal and reads the BOM every night.  I couldn't be prouder.  

Yesterday she made her first goal of the season!  Happy Birthday to her!  But then she collided with someone's head and got a black eye.  

Then she had a crazy wild girl party with all her kooky friends


This morning Alan made her French toast. We always try to indulge her on her birthday by squeezing as many books and French toasts into her brain and body as we can.






Look even her cake says smile and be happy!

Happy Birthday my only girl. Tomorrow I'm going to take a photo walk down memory lane with you.

xox I love you!

Mom

Painful

Yesterday was an all overall painful day.

First, the twins both aced their tennis matches. Garrett played 1st doubles and they won 8-1. Wyatt played 2nd singles and won 8-0. But it looked a little something like this:

Oh, wait! Here's a good one:


Then we were off to soccer games where Tatum twisted her ankle in the first quarter of her MYSO game and was out for the rest of the day. Her team lost 8-0. No mercy!

Zach's team lost his first game and won his second. See my Crash Test Dummy Diaries for the photo story.

Zach came home from his games and immediately started his homework. (Did I not tell you the kid is annoying!)

And Tatum also did her homework.


She's making a film about Huck Finn and for some reason her group thought it would be hilarious to burn Twilight! They took an unhealthy pleasure in doing so, if you ask me, but then I'm not a book burner, by nature. (The only book I ever burned was Jack Weyland's Sam.)

So, yes, painful day, overall.

From the Frampton Front Lines

This week has given me some insights into my children:

Tatum has decided we should go on strike. She's making signs and petitions and fiercely protesting the inevitable, impending temple renovations that will begin in January, which will close the Hawaii temple for 18 months. She is livid. And she is even more livid that we are not quite AS livid. She is certain the spirit will withdraw from the community and chaos will reign as soon as the temple doors shut upon us. I confess I feel a bit uncomfortable about the closing, but can you imagine us picketing in front of the temple? What would our signs say . . . Keep Laie Holy!?

(Okay, she's not really to the sign-making point yet, but our ears are ringing from all the rampaging.)

***
Garrett sat me down this week and declared, "I want to get a job! I need a job! And not a job around here because it's boring."

"Okay," I told him, "What about the book reviews and your blog posts. There's a lot of untapped $$$ in that."

"Boring. I need a real job."

"Um, okay. . . like what?"

"I don't know. Like sweeping or something. But not sweeping here cause it's boring."

"Sweeping . . . like where?"

"I don't know . . . like sweeping at Pizza Hut or something."

So Garrett needs a job sweeping at Pizza Hut if anyone knows of a vacancy.

***
Wyatt and Garrett tested AT GRADE LEVEL on the GATES reading test! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Did I mention AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

So we have all been very busy shakin' our booty around our GATES reading test bonfire, with one thumb pressed to our nose, fingers extended in typical spirit finger fashion, while singing Nani nani boo boo!

Why on earth would we do that? We're still in the AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! stage.

***

Wyatt has figured out how to draw a figure. A person. A body.

"I can draw a body!" he declared the other night. "I figured out how to draw a body!"

Then later, "Look! I know how to draw a body running!" he shouted. He was amazed by the powers he was releasing within himself, and frankly so was I. But my amazement was soon replaced by eye rolling when he suddenly started giggling that giggle only he can giggle.

"What?" I said. He giggled all the way over to show me that he really could draw a human body (and he can, I confirm it).

Now he just needs to learn how to draw some clothes.

With great power comes great responsibility.

***

Zach never ceases to bewilder me. He's amazing and yet annoying all at once. With one hand he's reaching out and aggitating, no aggravating, everyone in his path, but with the other hand he's turning pages of books, scribbling note cards, playing his trombone . . .

Which dog will he feed? That's the million dollar question.

But for the record, WOW! He really impresses me with his persistance. The kid is almost stunning me on a daily basis. Not only does he know how to do his own research and copy paste photos and design and mount them and cite his sources and write note cards and record bibliographies, but he actually DOES it, and all by himself.

It's like he's turned into Tatum!

Like Mother Like Daughter

Tatum found this photo of me at about her age.



It made her feel a lot better about herself. ;)

And here's a cute poem Zach wrote today for his English class. Can you guess who the narrator is? He was bummed because Wyatt and Garrett thought it was Alan and Tatum thought it was a booger? How to you spell booger? (The stuff we get in our noses when we go to Utah).

And keep Wyatt and Garrett in your prayers today. Send out all your positive vibes. Call upon the universe and help them finally test at grade level on their GATES reading test. They can read, I know they can! I hear them every night. Wyatt just finished White Fang tonight! HOORAY!

I Love Soccer Saturdays!

I know you think I'm being sarcastic, and normally I would be, but today I really mean it. After a week of the day-in-and-out grind, it's such a pleasure to spend the day in town, in the sun, among friends, watching our kids kick soccer balls around.

This Saturday was particularly pleasurable because the kids started their tennis season too. Today was the twins first match of their life and I could hardly keep my heart in my chest it was so swollen up with pride. How can I explain how cute they were?

Even the photos can't quite capture it:





It was just so weird to see my babies out there officially smacking that ball around and keeping score. They were so good at it, it almost amazed me.

Garrett played 2nd singles in the 2.5 division and won 8-4. Wyatt played 1st doubles in the 2.5 division and lost in a tie breaker 7-8

Zach played 1st doubles in the 3.0 division and won 8-4.

Tatum played 1st singles and won 8-0. She was outstanding.

(Here's a shout out to our awesome coach and neighbor and follower of this blog, Martha!)

Our schedule today was as fragile as a house of cards. We had to stack 4 tennis matches and 3 soccer games on top of each other just so. This is how we started out.

(We pulled the day off without a hitch, (except, just between you and me, I took a few wrong turns trying to get to Costco to buy pizza for Tatum's team snack, but shhhh. . . there's a certain someone in my family who doesn't know about that).

I got to watch Tatum and Zach play and win their soccer games, and Alan got to watch the twins play and win their game. (Hence no photos of the twins).




In other news: On the movie front, Alan and I saw Ghost Town last night. It was a definite thumbs up. Quite funny in a quirky sort of way, but I will probably be blogging about that on my Crash Test Dummy sight soon, so I'll abstain for now.

And Zach has been working hard on his science project. We were inspired with the idea after Tatum's soccer coach gave her a water vs. Coke study that claimed Coke will eat through a bone and nail in 4 days. Well, don't believe everything you read because it ain't true folks. Classic, Diet, Cherry, Vanilla, Zero, Plus . . . Not a one of them do more than rust the tip.



And for those of you who read my CTD post last week, here's my new computer chair. My back is much happier).

Mommy (by Tatum)

This blog goes out to my mom!!! She forces me to do this, but she has no idea I'm doing this right now!! She loves to write and I'm glad! She's the best mom in the world and I'm sorry for being so mean about the whole weird blogging thing! 

I love you a lot! Thanks for everything!

That's Pretty Much Our Week

This week the Beehives learned beauty secrets. I only know this because I was asked to teach them the secret of inner beauty, (probably because I was always that girl with the nice personality. You know that girl.)

This week Zach taught himself his first song on the trombone by watching Youtube videos, so we've heard every (and I do mean every) rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. He also figured out that the trombone, when manipulated correctly, sounds an awful lot like f-a-r-t-i-n-g. He's been cracking himself up right and left.

Zach was also asked out on a date. Yes, by a girl. An eighth-grade girl. A stupid  eighth-grade girl, according to him. We've probably only got another year before he drops stupid as a modifier for girls and I'm clinging to every second of it. 

I'm also clinging to every second of the twins boyhood. I love love love that they still get a kick out of Gak and Goo and those retractable sticky hands.

Please don't let this feeling end . . . It might not come again . . . (Someone should write a song like that).

That's pretty much our week, plus a bit of extra emotion over 9/11.

(P.S. 15 years later self here: That kid on the left is Alohi Gilman. He became a professional football player for the San Diego Chargers.)

Isn't that My Job?

Zach has all A's on his report card, but have I created a monster? 

Zach comes home and instead of me pestering him about his homework he pesters me. 

Isn't that my job?

"Mom, set the timer I'm going to do my times tables." 

"Mom what does acquaintance mean?" 

"Mom, read these three pages of questions for me so I can review for my test. C'mom Mom, I'm ready! 

"Mom! Mom! Mom! Again mom." 

 But you have it memorized word for word. "Again mom!" But . . . 

(This is an unfinished draft I found in the post edit feed. I have no idea how I intended to finish it, but it's a pretty impressive reflection on Zach's conscientiousness, so I am publishing it as is. It made me think about when he was in middle school and I had to pick him up every day and rush him to Varsity basketball practice at the high school. He would call or text me a few times each day to remind me how important it was that I was on time.so he could be on time. Once I was late, and he had to run ladders until he threw up. It still makes me cringe to think that he had to pay for my mistake. He must have been so stressed all the time.)

The Saddest Thing in the History of the World

I documented the saddest thing in the history of the world (besides terrorism, poverty, world hunger, disease, war and the price of gas. Oh, and possibly hurricane Ike). 

These are the actual basketball rims at our elementary school. (It's more than just a shame, it's a crime, don't you think?)

T.G.I. (aloha) F.

You know you've finally lost your grasp on domestic order when you roll out of bed just in time to shout to your children from your bedroom window, Have a nice day at school!

Only half of that is true. I have lost my grasp on domestic order, but today I was actually up at 5 a.m., as usual, to get Tatum off to Seminary by 6 a.m. My friends think I'm lame because I help her curl or straighten her hair almost every morning. They don't say you're lame, of course, they say, Wow, I could never be such a good mom! which is code for, Get-a-life!

What they don't understand is the mystical power beauticians (and bar tenders) have over the human soul. The only time Tatum talks to me is when I'm doing her hair (or pouring her a drink). I look forward to the daily witching hour, between 5-6 a.m., to catch a peak into my daughter's head.

Around here our mornings are organized into 3 waves. Once Tatum is out the door, Zach pops up, eats, showers, watches ESPN with Alan for 45 minutes, then catches the bus by 7 a.m. Easy Breezy.

Then comes the final wave--the twins. There's no popping up involved in the twin's morning ritual. Garrett requires a piggy back to get down the stairs and Wyatt won't budge unless there's a spray bottle involved and everyone has cleared the room. They also require music to shake them up--mostly Wyatt, as he's only got one speed in the morning: catatonic.

So this morning was just like every other morning, except we made a few candy leis for the Super Citizen assembly. Garrett was voted Super Citizen of the month by his classmates (which, according to Wyatt, doesn't count).

After the assembly I dropped Alan off at work, came home, crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head.
 
That's not true either. It was tempting, but it's Friday, and Friday is my day. Before I pay the overdue utilites bill or wash my hair or wipe the spilled frosted flakes off the counter, I will sit down and write. 

First things first, after all! 

Terrorism 101: Physics for Dummies

Who likes drudging up painful memories?

So let's not drudge them up. Let's talk psychology or philosophy instead. Let's talk physics. How about Newton's third law? To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Cause and effect.

After 9-11 I cringed and ducked every time I saw a low flying plane, I fixated on taking photos of flags, and I bought flour and sugar by the truckload and sealed it up in mylar bags.

I went to candle-light vigils, tossed coins into fountains and prayers into the universe. I even started listening to country music.

Funny what you do when you don't know what to do.

Even Tatum, who was only six years old, went from drawing pictures like this