Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Remember Father's Day?

Growing up in my family we had a saying "We spread out the fun". Usually it had to do with birthdays. It meant your birthday party was going to be a few days after your birthday, or your card was coming a little late, or your present wasn't quite "ready". I always kind of loved it.

My mom made me feel special, even (or maybe especially) when we were spreading out the fun. I have been accused of spreading out my fun a little too long. Like the year I used the "You Are Special Today" plate through my brother Alex's birthday- nine days after my own. I don't remember how I ended up with the plate, but my sister Elizabeth remembers and in her version of the story I was still using it on her birthday- six weeks after mine.

Now that I'm a mom, I appreciate the various benefits of spreading out the fun. I like the idea of literally celebrating birthdays for weeks or graduations for months. As someone who has a lot on her plate, I also need the quick forgiveness that comes when celebrations happen a little slower than I'd like.

But with all that said, I recognize the deep satisfaction when the stars align and the catastrophes halt to allow things to come together just in time for one perfect day. A day to recognize GK the father, the husband and the man. I guess that's why I feel okay that this post is about three days late.

I love giving gifts. Correction: I love knowing what people love. Once I do, I can't help myself. I like to take note of random clues and unintentional hints and when the opportunity arises, make them a reality.

Since Van was born, he's had a plethora of soft comfy pants with horizontal stripes. On many occasions, GK said, "I wish they made pants like this in my size." Hint number one.

One day getting dressed for church, GK put on a blue silk tie only to pull it back off grumbling something that contained the words spot, stupid and ruined. Hint number two.

Last year after teaching seminary for several months, GK started taking some inexpensive paperback scriptures instead of the ones from his mission, afraid they had become too tattered and fragile. Hint number three.

With a little crafty magic and some brilliant book binding buddies, GK's celebration exceeded expectation (something we all know I have a problem with). But to stay with tradition, the pictures are yet to come. Just to spread out the fun.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

No Big Surprise




Although we are sad to leave behind what we have come to love: good people, great culture and a unique way of life, it comes as no surprise to those who know us well that we are officially moving.

We put in our notice for our apartment and have been researching moving trucks and car tows, and as of August 31, we'll be saying adios to our two year home. We're off to seek our fortune in the West.

There have been moments over the past couple of years when I thought this day couldn't come too soon.

Like the time GK found someone's dirty underpants in our windowsill and another pair stuffed in our radiator
Or like the time our upstairs neighbor's illegal whirlpool tub flooded all over our bed
Or like the times we got parking tickets for not moving the car for street sweeping
Or like the hour (plus) it takes to get anywhere
Or like paying triple our Denver rent

But as the time of our departure gets nearer I think about how sad I am to leave.

I think about the time we brought our first little boy home from the hospital and our crazy little apartment turned into a home
Or the times we met our friends at the park for a visit or a picnic or a concert or a rainstorm
Or the times we walked out our front door and watched the fireworks over Lady Liberty
Or the times we sat on the train and listened to live performers and gave them a buck
Or the times we went to church and saw one face we loved after another after another
Or the times we laid in bed talking about what a good life we have

I am a bit surprised that it will be so hard to leave. But now this city will always feel a bit like home.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Blogging Irony


Sometimes I just feel like writing. Blogging I mean. I think, "What could I write about that might be fun to share?" And I rack my brains for things to write about.


Then I think about things like the time in 7th grade when my friend Kara had a Caruso Steam Curler and we curled our hair and made up a song called "Peace in the World Through Ringlets"... only the entire song was based on our belief that ringlet was actually spelled wringlet.


But then, when truly significant things happen (like the graduation of my sweet husband and the cross-country visit of 8 family members simultaneously), it seems like such a daunting task that it takes me weeks to muster up the courage to attempt it. That is obviously dramatic (I have a couple of degrees in that), but not far from the truth.


I guess you could say I have a small problem with expectations. I have very high ones of most things. I am also often hopeful long beyond when others aren't. This often works out well. At other times it only procrastinates the day of my disappointment. For example in high school when I wasn't selected to attend a leadership conference called HOBY, I was still hopeful til the day it started that something would work out and I could go. I didn't go and was really bummed at the time.

That may not make sense. GK certainly doesn't understand it and many would call it naive. But it remains a part of my character as one of my double edged swords.


I want the record of events to match their importance. But just when I'm about to feel up to the task, something else of extreme (thought not as extreme) importance happens--like a haircut-- and I don't know what to do. So until I figure it out, here are a couple of pictures to whet your appetite (is there an h in whet? or is that just my imagination, like that silly w in ringlet?)


Pictures of the graduation, not the haircut, since my expectations once again have bitten me in the fanny.

GK's Mom and Dad (proof that Kyle and Kayla came, yet to come)

GK and his Dean Andrea.

The Florence/Risser/Ashdown Clan



Every one of these images was stolen from the Risser Blog. I'm pretty sure we took some too.

Maybe when I start liking my new haircut for more than five minutes at a time, I'll post some pictures of that as well.