Memorial Weekend fishing

Somebody remind me why we go fishing on Memorial Day weekend. I realize it's opening weekend at Henry's Lake, but is it really necessary to go on the coldest, wettest weekend of the season?

Luckily, we had lots to keep us occupied while we were busy not catching any fish.

Bekah, Ana and Miri checking out Big Springs.

Analee and Mack looking at books at Grandma and Grandpa Hendricks' cabin.

Seth and Miriam at Upper Mesa Falls. Miriam thought the waterfall was too loud.

Seth trying to show Miriam the bear hide at the Mesa Falls visitors' center while the big girls assure her it's safe.

Rebekah trying to catch a fish in the tide pool at Henry's Lake.

Miriam and Seth trying to catch fish. Nobody got a bite.

Analee throwing rocks in the lake.

Ana is 5

... And has been for almost three weeks. That's what happens when you've got two major deadlines (the annual Snowbird yearbook slide show we do and the upcoming Scroll reunion) coming up. I'm abysmally behind on blogging.

Anyway, here's the recap.

Ana turned 5 on Thursday, May 24. The poor girl had to wait all day to enjoy any of the festivities though ... what with Bekah's school and Seth's work and all. We did our usual routine in the morning (shopping, baby-sitting Bennet, naps for the wee ones), along with some party preparation (filling the piñata, making the cake, getting the paperware out).

At the appointed time, the guests showed up: Grandma and Grandpa Scott, Grandpa Dennis (Grandma Susan was/is in Washington, D.C.), Aunt Jessica, Uncle Jim, Mack and Tav. We ate dinner (Ana's choice of PB&J cut into shapes and some cheeseburgers we had ready for anyone who didn't want a sandwich), then whacked open the piñata she and I had so painstakingly made.

 Ana eating watermelon and listening to Grandma Susan tell her, "Happy birthday!"

 

Taking the first swing at her ballerina piñata.

Ana with her party blower.

Miriam with her party blower. (Those are my feet and my dad's feet, in case you were wondering. And a random pool toy.)

Once we had gathered all the prizes and candy, we went back inside (thank goodness ... it was dang chilly out there) to unwrap presents and eat cake.

Aunt Jessica and Rebekah helping Ana unwrap a present from Grandma and Grandpa Scott. 

Analee blowing out the candles on her ballet slipper cake.

Which was followed by the unscripted portion of the birthday party.

Analee modeling the princess dress Grandma Scott made for her birthday.

The sad antelope

This is the story of how Bob the antelope suffered through great trauma. Don't worry though ... the story has a happy ending.

Yesterday my wonderful father was over at our house helping us with the remodeling of Rebekah's future bedroom in the basement. This is the bedroom that was previously plastered with fishing reel and lure wallpaper (applied directly to the sheetrock) and finished with rough wooden planks (to hide the fact that nothing had been taped or mudded ... and yes, that is a word I'm apparently making up).

As the aforementioned handyman was banging on the wall, Analee and I heard a banging of a different sort in the family room.

This guy (minus the Christmas decor) was on the floor.

Apparently the banging had bumped the nail loose, because we found it on the floor next to the head. I rushed over and picked the antelope up, gave it a quick once-over and gently laid it on the floor.

It wasn't until Dad was gone that Analee noticed the crack. Yes, the crack. The CRACK in the horn of the beautiful antelope Seth proudly harvested nearly three years ago.

My first thought: "I hope I don't lose my lunch. Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Okay ... let's think this through. Seth will flip when he finds out. What can I do to fix it so he won't have as much reason to flip out?"

My initial answer: Google "how to fix cracked antler." As you can guess, that was a bad choice. (Especially since, I just learned, antelope have horns and not antlers.)

Once my mind was in a more reasonable state, I thought, "I don't have the expertise or materials to fix this. If I screw it up, that would be worse than having a cracked horn. What was the name of the guy that stuffed this head in the first place? 'John' or something ..."

I tried looking up a John or Jon taxidermist in the area, and knew I hadn't found the right guy. So I hacked Seth's email. And by "hacked," I mean I logged in as him. (I couldn't actually hack something if I tried. It's easier to login as somebody when you already know his password.)

I searched his email for "taxidermist" and found the guy's name (it was Jay, by the way). Then it was a simple matter of looking him up on Google, calling him to see if he could fix it, and dropping it off at his place in Rigby. My exact words when I met Jay: "Hi. I'm Andrea Grover, and this is my sad antelope."

I never intended on keeping the antelope horn mishap from Seth (I think he would have noticed the gaping blank spot on the family room wall directly above the entertainment center anyway), but I thought it would be better to deliver the bad news in person rather than over the phone. The only thing I hadn't planned for was early visitors.

See, last night we were scheduled to feed the sister missionaries. I told them we'd eat at 5:30, and they said they'd be there right in time for the grub. Seth usually leaves work at 5 p.m. and arrives home at 5:15 or so. I figured there would be enough time between his arrival and the sisters' to let him know the sad scoop.

Then it started raining. Hard. So the sisters gave up on knocking doors and came over early.

That meant that as soon as Seth walked in the house, I ushered him upstairs to Miriam's room, told him what had happened in whispers (the baby monitor's in her room, and since my aim was to have a private conversation with him, I thought it best to not have the sisters pick up what I was saying via the speaker in the kitchen), and explain that it would be fixed in a day or two.

Seth was aghast that his antelope had gotten hurt (understandably), but didn't place blame on anyone.

Today Jay called. I ran up to Rigby to pick up the head, and he showed me what he had done to fix it. When I returned it home and Seth checked it over, he couldn't even tell where the crack had been. All I can say is, "Phew!"

So Seth's trophy is now back on the wall where it belongs. But no more nails for us. It's going to take a 7.2 magnitude earthquake to knock that puppy off the wall. Thank goodness for screws mounted in studs.

Ostrich

As Miriam gets older and starts to assert her independence, she has taken on some new habits. The most obvious one is her tendency to cover her eyes with her fists. This is sometimes accompanied by her curling up in a ball on the floor. It doesn't matter where she is, if she feels like she's been wronged, she'll assume her "I don't like this and I'm not taking part in this" position. At Target. Outside the Civic Auditorium. At Grandpa Wirkus' house.

I guess she thinks that if she can't see you, you can't see her, like the proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand.

The other day, she took this to a whole new level. I don't remember what set her off, but when everybody else was sitting up at the table ready to eat dinner, Miriam was pouting in her usual way.

However, the 2-year-old was still hungry, so she compromised her feelings of hunger and letting us know she was still upset.

She ate with her eyes closed.

I kid you not (and no, I don't have pictures to back me up), this kid felt around on her plate for every bite of blueberry pancakes and eggs. When she couldn't feel anything left, she asked for more. When I asked her which kind of syrup she wanted (the regular maple or a fantastic new recipe for buttermilk caramel syrup that I found on Pinterest), she reached out her hands, felt both bottles, and identified the one she wanted by touch.

I hope she grows out of this phase soon, because if she doesn't, we might want to enroll her in some braille-reading classes.

Dance recital

Bekah wasn't so sure the extra dance practices leading up to her recital on the 19th were worth the time ("I don't have as much time to read!"), but once she got her costume and had the dress rehearsal, she was happy and excited once more.

Last year, Rebekah wore her tiger outfit and was instructed to have her hair curly with the sides pulled up. That was a problem because her hair doesn't take curl very well. Now that I've figured out how to help her hair become/stay relatively curly (tiny-barreled curling iron turned up as high as it can go with the "turbo boost" button activated), I was hoping her class would be asked to do the same thing this year.

No such luck. She was supposed to have her hair in two braids behind the ears with the part over the left eye. Problem #1: Bekah's hair is ALWAYS parted over the right eye. When I parted it over the left eye, her hair rebelled by lying funny. Problem #2: Bekah's hair isn't long enough to just put it in two braids and have it stay. Problem #3: The obvious solution to Problem #2 would be to French braid her hair, but I'm horrible at French braiding. (I'm gonna go ahead and blame that on an older sister who refused to teach me how to do it. Sure, I've since had a couple of decades to teach myself, but it's still easier to blame Jessica than myself.)

I tried in vain to French braid it (the bottom half looked great, but the top half look atrocious), so I came up with a creative solution:

Rebekah's dance recital hair: pulled into ponytails at the top to keep the wispies in place, then braided down to the next elastic, etc. That description doesn't make any sense. Click on the picture to see it bigger if you really care.

Bekah was super-cute both at the rehearsal that morning and the recital that night. She even remembered to smile a few times. :-) 

Bekah with other girls from her class during the rehearsal. It's a heck of a lot easier to get pictures of the dance during the rehearsal when there are relatively few people there than at the recital when everybody's uncles, aunts, grandparents, friends, neighbors and acquaintances attend.

 

 

 

 Pictures shot in our front yard before driving to the Civic for the recital.

 Differences from last year: 

• Rebekah HATED the makeup and even the idea of putting it on. Last year she was excited to have makeup, but after experiencing the pain of getting mascara off, she was much more wary this year. 
• I decided it wasn't worth having Seth or I being stuck in the auditorium for the entire day to save seats for the family, so we just sat in the balcony for the recital. Turns out, you can see great from up there.
• Rather than keeping the younger girls up late to watch the whole recital and come home after the finale, I took Ana and Miri home after the little girls' dance numbers and put them to bed. Seth and Bekah came home around 9:45 (the recital didn't go quite that late, but Seth treated Rebekah to a Frosty), and I scrubbed her face and took out her hair before she crashed in bed.

 

sometimes, it's worth it

After family home evening tonight, we watched a video (see below) from a talk by President Hinckley on Mormon Messages about two young boys who, when they found the shoes of a poor man working in a field, rather than hiding the shoes and laughing at his consternation, chose to hide a silver dollar in each of his shoes and watch his reaction. When the man returned from his work in the field, he broke down and thanked the Lord for the much needed blessing.

After watching the video, Analee walked up to her room. A few minutes later, she came down the stairs with her two little fists clenched tight. "Rebekah," she asked, "what shoes are you going to wear to school tomorrow?"

Andrea and I looked at each other with our hearts full. The coins were hidden (in her sister's school binder rather than her shoes, since flip-flops don't tend to contain coinage very well), and shortly thereafter the secret was discovered, both sisters beaming. Bekah hefted Ana into her arms and gave her a kiss on the head.

Often, it's crazy. Occasionally, we wonder, "What were we thinking?" But sometimes, it's worth it.

Ana-ism #19

While we were driving home from Sam's Club, I asked Analee if she would be my hiking buddy next summer.

Ana: Are 5-year-olds big enough to go on teeter-totters?
Andrea: (Confused at the apparent change of topic:) Teeter-totters? Like, at the playground?
Ana: No, teeter-totters. The mountains.
Andrea: (Thinking for a moment ...) Oh! You mean the Tetons?

The bug play

The 1st grade classes have a tradition of putting on a bug play near the end of the school year. They invite their parents and the kindergarteners to watch it. Rebekah told us about the "auditions" they had at least six weeks ago, and was so excited to tell us that she got the part of the STINK BUG! Woohoo!

Seth and I were a little skeptical that the role was as big of an honor as Rebekah made it sound, but she explained that the stink bug was the main role of the bug play. She got to walk across the stage several times while the rest of the children shouted, "Ew!" and held their noses, and she had the most lines to memorize. And boy ... I think she had those lines memorized the day she came home from school with them.

Here's our little stink bug:

Singing with the rest of the bugs on stage.

Saying one of her three parts.

The entire cast. I couldn't believe the costumes! They had a praying mantis, butterflies, army ants, bees, a maggot, ladybugs, beetles, etc. 

Buzzing around the stage. The kids were paired up and told to buzz around their partners, but Bekah was the odd one out, so she just buzzed by herself.

Miriam, Analee (playing with Bekah's costume), Bekah and Seth (that's his hand on the video camera) following the play.

Bekah showing us her stink bug report. Each kid got to research their bug and draw a picture to go with it.

Rebekah's reading goal

Our elementary school participates in the Accelerated Reading Program. After students read books, they take comprehension tests and are awarded points based on their test scores and the length and difficulty of the books. Bekah got her first taste of AR last year in kindergarten. She started participating in it about halfway through the year and accumulated more than 50 points by the end of the year by reading picture books (worth 0.5 points apiece).
Early on this year, it was apparent that Rebekah was going to smash last year's score. She rejoiced when she reached 300 points--more points than either first grade teacher could remember any of their students getting. And as the year's last AR assembly date drew near, she kicked it into high gear. In a single day, this kid took 16 tests to reach her goal of 400 points. But by golly, she did it.

Every quarter, the school holds an assembly to celebrate reading and those students who reach milestones: 100, 200, 300, 400 and 500 or more points. They show the kids' names and pictures on a PowerPoint to a gymful of rowdy students and proud parents. Then they have the students who have joined the 100, 200, 300, 400 or 500 and above point club stand up so everyone can cheer for them. Bekah enjoyed the clapping, yelling and general adulation that comes with our school's AR assemblies.

 

Rebekah sitting with her class at the front of the gym before the assembly begins.

 

 The "400 Point Club" slide. 

 Rebekah's name and picture in the slide show.

 

Rebekah standing up with all the other 400 point clubbers. Notice how young she is compared to the other kids. She was the only 1st grader to reach 400 points this year. 

Waving after the assembly.

No more preschool for Analee

Analee has, once again, attended the high school's child development/parenting class preschool program. She's a super-duper senior, having attended the last four semesters. She wasn't sure she wanted to go yet again this spring, but when her good friend (and recent move-in) Olivia showed interest in preschool, Ana jumped on board.

But no more preschool for this big girl. She attended her very last class on Thursday, and from here on out, she's a bonafide kindergartener. This girl can't wait until she gets to attend Fairview in the fall.

 

Analee and Olivia getting ready to exit the van at the high school on their last day of preschool. Miriam and Bennet (the girls' cousin whom I baby-sit) supervise the drop-off.

Another wardrobe malfunction

Apparently, Miriam has a thing for wearing other people's underthings. Today she donned her biggest sister's (clean) underwear and was parading around the house telling me about her "piddy neckEES" ("pretty necklace").

Curiosity drenched the cat

Yesterday evening, I thought my toddler was dying.

You may think I'm exaggerating. But if you had been here and heard her blood-curdling scream, you would have thought the same thing.

Seth had started the water in the tub so Miriam could take a bath ... one of her absolute most favorite things to do. She was happily sitting in the tub playing with an Ariel while I was downstairs tidying up the books and toys that seem to congregate in the middle of the living room floor throughout the day.

That's when I heard the most ear-splitting, paralyzing scream I've ever heard from my 2-year-old.

In the two seconds it takes to bound up the stairs, my mind raced. Had the water turned boiling hot? (Don't worry ... our water heater is set at a safe 110 degrees.) Had she gotten a hold of my razor? (Which is a foot or two out of her reach.)

Gratefully, Seth made it to the bathroom a split-second before me and solved the problem that turned our sweet daughter into a terrified banshee.

He disengaged the shower that Miriam had started when she, out of sheer curiosity, had played with the shower pull on the tub spout.

I'm happy to report that despite her soggy, drippy head, she was a little scared, but otherwise fine.

Bekahism #46

Bekah: I'm working on becoming a ninja, dad. I have got the "swift" part down, but I have to work on the "silent" part. Ninja's are swift and silent. I am swift, but I jump around too much to be silent. It's hard to be silent when you're jumping around all the time.

Best friends/sisters

This morning the girls barreled into our room at 7 a.m. (with Seth imploring, "Why can't you let us sleep in?!") and then back out. Seth and I groggily lounged about in bed a while longer while the big girls busied themselves downstairs. When we finally emerged, we found this on the counter:

 

It seems like Bekah has been missing her younger sister and accomplice while she's been in school.

80's flashback

When Seth and I were invited to an 80's themed surprise birthday party, I decided we were going to go all out. I did all sorts of research to find out how to transform myself. (Yes, I was born in the 80s, but I wasn't old enough to wear makeup, buy my own clothes, wear earrings or style my own hair before the decade was gone, so I wanted to make sure I could do something authentic.) Bright colors? Check! (Thank you, D.I.) Bright makeup? Check! (Thank you, big sister). Big earrings? Check! (Thank you Fred Meyer clearance sale.) Big hair? Check! (Thanks, gallon of hairspray, triple-barrel curling iron and comb for ratting.)

Don't click on this to see the larger version unless you want to have nightmares tonight. Yes, that is blue glitter on my eyelids.

Seth was a harder case. What did guys wear in the 80s? We found a vintage-y looking shirt. Did my brothers wear something similar back in the day? And what can do you to hair that's been recently buzz-cut? Our solution:

That's right, peeps. Seth sported a mohawk.

It's a shame he couldn't wear some of his honkin' big glasses from the 80s.

In this state, we went to the party. Unfortunately, of the 14 people who came, we were the only ones who altered our looks to fit the theme. Even the hostess forgot to dress up.

Rather than crawling into a hole, I toughed it out during dinner and then utilized a comb and a wet wipe to try and transform myself into something more normal looking while we traveled from the birthday boy's home to go play dodgeball at a gym full of trampolines.

So if I show up at a costume party in my normal attire, you'll know that I chickened out because of my, like, totally bogus prior experience.