Every year, I swear I will never go again. And every Labor Day weekend, I collect my wallet and, unfortunately, gather up at least one of my children and follow the herds of glassy-eyed, frenzied Utah women making their way to the sheer madness that is known as Swiss Days. Now, if you're not familiar with this annual event, it is basically a bunch of vendors selling handicrafts like beaded jewelry, nightgowns, wrapping paper, hair accessories, magnet boards and carved wooden critters. At least I think that's what they're selling--it's impossible to see or get into most of the booths due to the swarms of people jamming them inside and spilling out into the walkways. You practically need military black ops training to get in and get out of those things. Seriously--it's ridiculous. But I can't help myself--and apparently, the entire female population of the Wasatch Front can't either. So I made the pilgrimage on Friday, fought the crowds, commented several times on how crazy it was and came home wondering again why I bothered to go.
In all reality, I don't want to go, but I don't want to stay away. I'm always afraid I'll miss the perfect centerpiece for my holiday tablescape or the best hair bow deal ever. So I'm sure I will continue the tradition of going to Swiss Days--I will just never take my husband (his worst nightmare) or a stroller (my worst nightmare). Stop me if you ever see me and point me toward the merch that'll make it all worthwhile.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
bear lake
Today, it's a travelogue from our relaxing, three-day getaway to Bear Lake last week. Tom was at scout camp up there so my friend, Crystal, invited us to stay at her family's "cabin" (otherwise known as a big, gorgeous house in a gated community overlooking the lake). I never turn that offer down so I packed up the kids and we headed up.
We spent Sunday hanging out at the house and going on a 4-wheeler ride. Monday was adventurous--as we were loading up Crystal's car to go down to the beach we noticed that one of the tires was totally flat. So we moved everything to my little Civic (I had Tom's commuter car because he needed my Sequoia to tow the scout trailer and take all the boys to camp) and one of the wheelers and made our way down to the beach. Everything was fine until I decided to try to drive my little car out onto the sand and promptly got stuck. After several pathetic attempts to remove it--and getting it further lodged into the sand in the process--three men finally took pity on us and came and pushed me out. Meanwhile, all the kids were down playing in the water totally unsupervised (oops!). We quickly shuttled everything from the car to the beach, set up our station and enjoyed several relaxing hours chatting, playing, swimming and picnicking. It was heavenly. After dinner in town at LaBeau's, we were ready to call it a day.
On Tuesday, we hung around the house in the morning and then took the kids to Minnetonka Cave in the afternoon. Cool, interesting, different experience for them--and for us. I was just impressed that we were able to do it with one 8-year-old, two 6-year-olds, two 2-year-olds and 2 infants. What were we thinking?!? To go through the whole thing, we had to go up and down 440 stairs on the way in and then do them all in reverse on the way out. It was a pretty good workout--especially because I was carrying Hudson and helping Ava through the entire way. Anyway, we all had a good time but we definitely ready to go have some pizza when we got out.
After dinner we packed up all our stuff and started for home--on the way we stopped at camp to visit Tom. We sat around the fire for a bit, the girls told their dad about all of our adventures and then it was time to bid the scouts farewell (and Tom good luck) and go home. It was our one vacation this whole summer, but it was a good one--low-key and no schedules which was just what we needed. Can't wait to go back!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
mad skills
One of my goals for this year was to learn how to use Photoshop. I've wanted to be able to enhance and correct my photos and start digital scrapbooking. So, I took a class a few months ago and have dabbled a little ever since whenever I have the chance.
Just before Hudson was born, I decided to take on a serious Photoshop challenge--to create his announcement from scratch. So Tom and I had another hot date night--this time technology-centered. We sat next to each other and I did some Photoshopping while he edited our video from Disney World on the iMac. I got everything ready except for the photo. All I had to do then was wait until he was born and I felt good enough to take some pictures, Photoshop the money shot and drop it in. I finally did it and here is the finished product. Not bad, eh? I'm not saying I'm awesome (yet), but I think it's a pretty good start.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
olympics fever
Are you watching them?
I have taken a break from the John Adams miniseries to watch anytime I can, day or night. And since Tom has been at scout camp all week and I'm somewhat housebound with the new babe, I've been able to watch a lot. The Olympics have been awesome, entertaining and so exciting! I've been especially obsessed with Michael Phelps (along with everyone else in the country)--loved him during the games in Athens, love him even more in Beijing--and just watched him win gold medal #8 tonight. All I can say is wow. He's super-human. I especially loved the race last night (100m butterfly)--what an incredible finish. Amazing.
So, as I've been watching some of the more obscure events--paddling and badminton to name a couple--I've decided that I could make it to the Olympics. I'm not talking in one of the high-profile sports like swimming or beach volleyball. I figure that all I have to do is find a sport that's not really popular here in the States (like the aforementioned two), practice and train for a couple of years, make the team (because no one else is really trying to) and go. I'm not saying I'm going to win a medal, but it would be pretty cool to tell the grandkids that I was an Olympian.
Hey, if Dara Torres can do it at 41, I figure I've got five or six years left to make it happen...
I have taken a break from the John Adams miniseries to watch anytime I can, day or night. And since Tom has been at scout camp all week and I'm somewhat housebound with the new babe, I've been able to watch a lot. The Olympics have been awesome, entertaining and so exciting! I've been especially obsessed with Michael Phelps (along with everyone else in the country)--loved him during the games in Athens, love him even more in Beijing--and just watched him win gold medal #8 tonight. All I can say is wow. He's super-human. I especially loved the race last night (100m butterfly)--what an incredible finish. Amazing.
So, as I've been watching some of the more obscure events--paddling and badminton to name a couple--I've decided that I could make it to the Olympics. I'm not talking in one of the high-profile sports like swimming or beach volleyball. I figure that all I have to do is find a sport that's not really popular here in the States (like the aforementioned two), practice and train for a couple of years, make the team (because no one else is really trying to) and go. I'm not saying I'm going to win a medal, but it would be pretty cool to tell the grandkids that I was an Olympian.
Hey, if Dara Torres can do it at 41, I figure I've got five or six years left to make it happen...
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
exhausted...
The other day I remembered a funny incident from my teenage years.
We had just returned from a long road trip to Expo '86 in Vancouver. Our cousins from California had also driven up, spent the week with us there and then driven back to Utah to vacation and visit family here. They were staying at our house and late one night, we girls (my sister, me and our cousins, Stephanie and Kristin) decided to transform ourselves into mid-century debutantes by dressing up in some of my mom's clothes from the 50's and making ourselves up. We got all gussied up, and, unsatisfied with just hanging around the house, we got the idea that we should go get doughnuts. By this time, my mom, completely exhausted from the trip and having a house full of guests, was fast asleep in bed. We tiptoed into her room, woke her up and asked if we could take the car to go out. She told us no because we didn't know where the doughnut place was. We did a little begging but she didn't budge. So, we sat around for a few more minutes in our fancy outfits and then went to bed. The next morning we asked her why she wouldn't let us go and she had no recollection of our conversation but probably told us no because she thought we were still in Vancouver and that we didn't know our way around.
I found her confusion hard to believe as a young, energetic teenager. But I really understand how it could happen as a worn out, tired, exhausted mother myself. Just the other day Ella asked me why I hadn't gotten her a Band-Aid for the cut on her finger that she had shown me--when she woke me up from my afternoon nap. Like my mom, I had no recollection of our conversation.
I've known for several weeks now that I'm not getting enough sleep (who does when they have a newborn, right?) but forgetting conversations is taking to an entirely new level. I just keep telling myself that this won't last forever and that I will eventually get a good night's sleep. For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time and getting a little shut-eye whenever possible. I've found that I can actually nap in some pretty strange places and positions. Speaking of sleep, it's bedtime for me (yea!) so until next time, zzzzzzzzzz...
We had just returned from a long road trip to Expo '86 in Vancouver. Our cousins from California had also driven up, spent the week with us there and then driven back to Utah to vacation and visit family here. They were staying at our house and late one night, we girls (my sister, me and our cousins, Stephanie and Kristin) decided to transform ourselves into mid-century debutantes by dressing up in some of my mom's clothes from the 50's and making ourselves up. We got all gussied up, and, unsatisfied with just hanging around the house, we got the idea that we should go get doughnuts. By this time, my mom, completely exhausted from the trip and having a house full of guests, was fast asleep in bed. We tiptoed into her room, woke her up and asked if we could take the car to go out. She told us no because we didn't know where the doughnut place was. We did a little begging but she didn't budge. So, we sat around for a few more minutes in our fancy outfits and then went to bed. The next morning we asked her why she wouldn't let us go and she had no recollection of our conversation but probably told us no because she thought we were still in Vancouver and that we didn't know our way around.
I found her confusion hard to believe as a young, energetic teenager. But I really understand how it could happen as a worn out, tired, exhausted mother myself. Just the other day Ella asked me why I hadn't gotten her a Band-Aid for the cut on her finger that she had shown me--when she woke me up from my afternoon nap. Like my mom, I had no recollection of our conversation.
I've known for several weeks now that I'm not getting enough sleep (who does when they have a newborn, right?) but forgetting conversations is taking to an entirely new level. I just keep telling myself that this won't last forever and that I will eventually get a good night's sleep. For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time and getting a little shut-eye whenever possible. I've found that I can actually nap in some pretty strange places and positions. Speaking of sleep, it's bedtime for me (yea!) so until next time, zzzzzzzzzz...
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