To the Super Heroes

Dear Scott, Jerry, Karl, Dad, Grandpa, Uncle Jimmy, Uncle Randy, Uncle Mike,

I love you. And today I want to say thank you. Thank you for believing in this gorgeous, amazing country enough to want to defend it. Thank you for believing in our constitution and freedoms enough to want to defend them. Thank you for putting yourself on the line time and time again so that I can sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labors. It is no small task to serve in the armed forces. Leaving behind loved ones to go fight in a war or conflict simply because your country is requesting it of you is nothing short of heroic. Though, it is cool that some of you can literally fly. Let's be honest here.

To the wives of the above (Christy, Sara, Chrysta, Mom, et. al),

Maybe a bigger thank you? It's hard to decide who deserves it the most. The men who put their lives in harms way or the women who bravely stand aside and let them do what they feel is their duty. The women who manage to keep house and home together so that when The Soldier returns he has a soft place to fall. I've been blessed to watch some of you through these days, weeks, months and years of deployments. I've seen as you've come through them with grace and, most astonishingly, a deeper conviction of the rightness of your partner's path. The days are certainly not easy, and the nights are absolutely harder. The questions from children, the tears of goodbyes. You bear it all because YOU BELIEVE. You believe in your spouses' ability to effect real change in the lives of others. The sacrifice you make is equal in greatness, and I just don't think you will ever receive enough thanks.

To the Armed Forces at Large,

Thank you. I don't know you and you don't know me. But we have this great country in common. And when I see you in the airport I have to hold myself back from hugging you, my gratitude is so overwhelming. And, you know, that would probably be awkward for everyone. But really, if I could send each you a pan of brownies (and I make REALLY good brownies) I would do it. Because you deserve it.

In my home we really believe in super heroes. Some wear capes, and some just happen to wear Camo.

Edited to add: You can see some great pics of my military family at my SIL Christy's (aka SUPER TROOPER MOM) blog here. She's got my bros, bro-in-law and dad. All current or former military.

Hoo-yah!

Oh, and another thing...

These guys are going to be huge one day. I just feel it. I stumbled on their "single ladies" cover one day and fell in love. You heard it here first. (maybe)

We're camping this weekend...

But all I actually want to do is sit around in a thick cable-knit sweater, sipping herbal tea and listening to this.

TWO WEEKS.

Just wanted to get that out there. That is all. Go about your day.

*Where's my Team Emmett shirt?

Halloween!!!!!!!!!!

 

We trick-or-treated for a full 90 minutes. Sophie walked every stinkin' step of the way. And I'll be honest and say that I was kinda hoping she was going to get bored/tired/distracted by candy after the first couple of houses so that I could just take her back to the house. But no. Sophie wanted to prove her mettle and she would SHRIEK every time I tried to pick her up. She was SO tired but just wouldn't give up. By the end she was struggling to walk up the ramp parts of the sidewalk (you know, where it slopes up from the street), her legs were so tired! But would she let me hold her? Nope. Her little pumpkin got so full because people were letting her grab as much candy as she wanted. We had to keep emptying it out because it was too heavy for her to lift. She screamed every time we emptied it and kept screaming until more candy was put back in it. By the end of the night she was a MONSTER. (how fitting) She would walk up to a house and people would duck down so she could pick the candy she wanted and she would literally SCOWL IN THEIR FACE and belligerently  grab as much candy as she wanted. It was both hilarious and horrendous.

As for the boys, they are seasoned trick-or-treaters. They rocked the neighborhood. At one point Miles did embarrass us by looking at the proffered candy bowl and saying, "Um no. I don't like that." And then staring at the man as if waiting for him to go find something else he would like. That was pleasant. Miles also wanted to stay at the door talking to everyone. I literally had to pull him away from almost every door. He's just a friendly kid...

And now we have 20 tons of candy. I've been trying to convince Chase to let me donate it to Operation Gratitude, but he's not buying it. He has some pretty incredible willpower and can limit himself to a specific number of candy pieces per day. I, on the other hand, have no such willpower. For me it's a simple math equation. Me + Giant Bags of  Halloween Candy = Gaining Forty Pounds in Two Weeks. So I'm going to keep working on him...I'll let you know how it goes.

PSA: Something Every Child Should Know

The front of your underwear is NOT an appropriate make-shift pocket.

Great Escape

So last week I hit the road for a girl's weekend in Washington DC with a good friend from my college days, Pittsburgh Sara. This was a totally unprecedented trip. Usually if I'm spending a night away from my children I come home with another child. On the whole, I'd say this was 8ooo times better than staying in a hospital for four nights.

I don't have pictures (I left the camera here so Chase could capture every moment of my absence). I'll just tell you that it was a lovely experience. My parents came down to see me (I grew up mainly in central PA, about 2.5 hours away from DC) and we visited the International Spy Museum and ate in Chinatown. That first day I kept feeling this weird sense of disconnect whenever I would look into my purse and not find wipes, diapers and action figures. Or when we got back to PSara's house at 7 and I didn't have to immediately start dashing around putting people in tubbies and getting jammies out. It was an odd sensation to say the least. But I soaked it in and just enjoyed it.

During my trip we also did Georgetown (complete with Georgetown Cupcakes which is the kind of place where people stand in line out the door and down the street IN THE RAIN. It's that good.), sushi, my lil sis Bird came down, we vegged in front of the TV, shared new favorite music, girl talked until the wee hours, and rolled over and went back to sleep every morning after waking up excruciatingly early just because that's what my body is trained to do. It. Was. Great.

I DID come home to find five staples in Miles' head. The story is that Cameron and Miles were fighting on Great Grandma's trampoline (after spending the night on it) and Cameron swung a backpack at Miles' head not thinking about the filled-to-the-brim metal water bottle in it. So he split Miles' head wide open (I do have pictures of that below...don't scroll down if you don't like gore). Chase managed to pack them all up and rush to Urgent Care. And AFTER that he managed to get them all home, tubbied and off to Church on time for him to speak. And apparently it was a great, not-to-be-missed talk...

Anyway, I just happened to have a friend, Michelle, who ALSO had a girl's weekend right before mine. Her husband, Jedd, had this to say about the business of Daddy Daycare. It made me laugh so I figured I should share. I did change their son's name for privacy purposes. But I kept it natural so you shouldn't be able to tell.

"As both Michelle and Anna skipped town recently to visit girlfriends/sisters and "recharge their batteries," I thought I'd make a few observations.

First, I'm all for some "me" time like that, as taught in the Book of Mormon and by Oprah.  You need some time away from your loving families, especially your loving children (the nightly cries of "where's my mommy?" and "why won't mommy come home?" were no trouble -- really.  They didn't last long at our home, as I kept forgetting to feed the kids so their energy levels were low and they quickly fell asleep.)

Anna, you missed a great talk by Chase.  I think I even heard our ward's resident general authority emeritus say he learned something new from the talk, which is really saying something for a GA.  (Too bad for you it was one of those singular, "too special to repeat" talks).  Also, I understand the well-stapled gash in Miles' head was caused by innocent roughhousing and will NOT result in any visit from CPS.  Chase said the Police Dept. assured him of this.  Oh, and Miles' adorable venture up to the podium during Chase's talk was handled expertly by Chase--he didn't miss a beat.  Everything was totally under control at all times.

Silly things happen while moms are away -- like My Child With XY Chromosomes almost lighting the house on fire, the kids "accidentally" watching Curious George 15 times in a row, Cheerios becoming a new food group, screaming about lunches that are "not how mommy makes them!", playing outside during lightning storms -- it's all very quaint, kind of how Tarzan might have experienced life in his early years.  I worry that thoughts of things like this going on while you're away will weigh on your minds, perhaps cause you to feel a tinge of guilt.  Don't let that happen!

My point?  You need to take MORE trips and worry less about what is going on at home.  Put that cell phone away, relax, watch "Pride & Prejudice" 67 times ("Jedd, see how he looks at her!?").  Because Chase and I already prepaid for a weeks' worth of babysitting at Going Bonkers for the next time this happens (that's the place with padded walls, right?).

But please come back.  On the earlier flight if possible."

Thanks for that, Jedd.

  Camping on the trampoline

 

Staples in the head below...Don't scroll if you can't handle it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ahhhh sucka!

Leaving on a jet plane...

Today I embark on a girly weekend with my friend Pittsburgh Sara. Who doesn't live in Pittsburgh. So anyone trying to stalk me in either Pittsburgh or Chi-town this weekend is straight outta luck. THAT"S why I kept the CHI-TOWN reference in my blog. Confuse the stalkers!

Anywho, I'm looking forward to my little vacay but have to admit I'm kinda sad. This morning Chase went in to grab Sophers out of bed and she only wanted mommy. Like, I had to go in there and get her. She wasn't budging for anyone but the REAL THING. So that made me sad right away because I don't want to think of her starting off each day for the next couple of days sad at the world because I had to go off and be selfish.

But, really, it's going to be great for all of us, right? Because come Monday night guess who is going to get the Daddy Treatment (ie. children screaming like you're the beatles when you walk through the door - Chase gets this every. day. must be nice to have your own personal fan club. i wouldn't know.). Yeah, that's right. ME! I'm already picturing the frantic screaming when they pick me up curbside at the airport that shall not be named.

Ooh, goody.

Anna's Advice For Making Every Day a Great Day

Doesn't matter who you are, this advice is for you! I would add my testimony that when we dedicate our time, efforts, thoughts and all our strength to the Lord something miraculous happens; we are blessed with abilities beyond our own. It's something that must be experienced to fully understand. When we turn our will over to the Lord - giving back that tiny part that is truly ours to give, for all other blessings are His already - He blesses us beyond our capacity to receive. For this, and so many other reasons, I love the Lord.

Can a werewolf imprint on a cougar?

I stole that line from a clip I saw online. Some chick in her 30's was interviewing Chaske Spencer(? that's his name, right?), who plays Sam The Werewolf in New Moon...I thought it was humorous.

Anyway, here's a cool rundown with clips from each song on the New Moon soundtrack. Also too, I've included Entertainment Weekly's review of the soundtrack. Oct. 20 will be a good day for me.

"After the success of the first installment, music supervisor Alexandra Patsavas (Gossip Girl, Grey’s Anatomy) gets her pick of the alt litter here, with each contributing original, previously unreleased material: From the opening chords of Death Cab for Cutie’s dusky guitar rapture ”Meet Me on the Equinox” to the spooky robot-ennui of Thom Yorke’s ”Hearing Damage” and Grizzly Bear’s gorgeous folk-pop pastoral ”Slow Life,” New Moon rarely falters. A peacocking remix of Muse’s shamelessly operatic ”I Belong to You” becomes a Bowie-esque glam-rock stomper. In its wake, Bon Iver and St. Vincent quietly unfurl ”Rosyln,” a duet of hushed, almost church-like beauty.

Moon (due in stores Oct. 20) yields several happy revelations from its lower-marquee names: Nordic songstress Lykke Li’s nearly a cappella ”Possibility” is a lovely little Swedish snowflake, and jokey rockers OK Go achieve an impressive sort of Flaming Lips-y quirk-gravitas on the sprawling, cinematic ”Shooting the Moon.” Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s acoustic campfire lament ”Done All Wrong” segues seamlessly into the jaunty, Strokes-ian guitar fuzz of Hurricane Bells’ ”Monsters.” Think of New Moon as a sort of survey course in new-now-next rock: a mixtape with teeth. A"

Tylenol Recall

If you haven't heard there was a massive children's and infants Tylenol recall. Check it out here and clear out your medicine cabinet!!

Eye candy

Even with a dirty post-cookie-consumption face she's crazy cute. How's this for an outfit? I kinda feel like she's channeling Mary J. Blige here.

What do you think?

She just...you know...GETS me.

So I have this friend. She's basically awesome. So one day this friend (let's call her Stephanie Bean) shows up to my house with a little pink bag and says, "I don't care if you like it. I just had to make it for you."

When I opened the bag I found this:

Yes, that WOULD be an Edward fan shirt with blood dripping from the heart. I literally almost fell over when I opened it and then starting laughing really loudly. Like, make-the-kids-stare-in-panic loud. This shirt is fanfreakingtastic. Will I wear it to the mall? Probably not. But that's beside the point. The point is she gets me. She loves me and she gets me. It's like I said, "Hey Steph. How much do you love me?" And she said, "This shirt much." I mean, she cut out the little letters and blood drops and sewed them individually. That's love, folks.

The best part of this shirt was Steph's explanation of how the shirt came to be. She said she was just laying in bed one night and it came to her, in detail, exactly how she should make this shirt. I mean, it's not quite the same as hitting your head on the toilet and coming up with a flux capacitor, but considering it's a Meyer-based shirt it probably makes sense. 

Oh, Pat. You slay me.

Just to prove that my dad really does believe in the power of a good lecture (and that I get my sense of humor from him and mom equally), I have to share the following email we got from my dad after he read my last blog.

"Chase, congratulations on your lecture complete with flow chart as seen on Anna's blog.  A couple of suggestions:  

• Make sure you save the material.  I always used manila folders but that was before computers were in wide use so you may want to do it electronically.
• Start a numbering system.  You can simply number them sequentially or you may want to develop categories for your lectures using alpha characters and then use numbers as you have to issue subsequent lectures within the category.  For example, S-1 could be the first lecture in the series related to behavior at school and so on.

If you are diligent, you will not have to do nearly as much preparation when Miles, Sophie and subsequent children are in need of the same lecture.

The numbering system will not only enable rapid recall of the lecture material when needed, but when one of your children requires repeated re-issues of the same lecture (as Anna did) you will eventually be able to simply ask them to reflect on the required lecture by referring to its number and save both of you a lot of time.

You are becoming a very efficient father.  That's a good thing.  Keep up the good work."

And it should be duly noted that Chase's reply to this email was, "Thanks for the "Pat" on the back."

I can't tell anymore where he ends and I begin.

My dad would be proud. Of Chase.

At Cameron's school they use the stop light system for behavior. When you're being good you're on "green." Misbehaving gets you moved to "yellow." Continue on and you're on "red." Cameron has been on green every day of his school career thus far - we're so proud. But today as I arrived to pick him up he rushed out to me with a very serious look on his face and blurted, "I'm on yellow. I had to move my clip to yellow." He was riddled with pure guilt...I just said, "uh oh" and looked to his teacher for some explanation. She said that Cam had been pretty sassy with his P.E. teacher.

After getting in the car I immediately called Chase for a consultation. Cam wasn't sharing details, claiming he "forgot" what had happened. I couldn't decide if he needed a time-out, if he needed a firm talking to or what. So Chase just said to wait and let him deal with it. Fine by me!

So I had to run out and finish up some errands this evening and I arrive home to this:

My dad would be so proud. Chase was in full-on lecture mode. And what's a lecture without...

yeah. a flow chart. Where you at now, Cameron? Huh? Huh?

As you can see, Cameron was talking to Tristen and the coach asked him to stop talking. Cameron didn't stop talking and missed out on getting a sticker. He was mad so he told the coach he was never coming back to P.E. and never coming back to school. The coach's "feelings were hurt" (I'm sure he's at home nursing a pint of Ben and Jerry's right now), and thus we see how Cameron landed on yellow.

Sometimes I just LOVE being married to a CPA.

Oh, good grief.

It will require a TI-82 to figure out how many times I will likely see this movie.

Behold...

Stress blogging?

I have about 4.6 bajillion things on my "to-do" list right now. At the top of the list?

1. Procrastinate by blogging even though you jolly-well know better.

So. Some thoughts.

• Cameron is now six. For his birthday he got a new bike and a rad helmet that has skulls on it. Also too (and may I interject that I'm glad this Sarah Palin phrase has continued on all the UMC blogs...because she truly deserves to be mocked into the next century for using it repeatedly), it has been raining every day since Cam's b-day. Meaning his brand-new bike is sitting in my kitchen just waiting to be used. Cam comes home from school, puts his backpack on the table and then lovingly gazes at his bike and dreams of cruising around the neighborhood. It's a bittersweet experience for me. I'm glad he has the bike, he LOVES the thing, but it breaks my heart that the tires are still clean. It deserves to be out in the sunshine.
• And hey, speaking of school...I can't decide if I love it or hate it. I love that Cameron is having a good time. I hate that they send me notes requesting money every other day. Because my taxes aren't enough. I'm trying to figure out how they would feel about a pound of flesh being dropped in the mailbox with a note saying, "Now we're even. Sincerely, Anna."
• Sonic burgers. They're delicious. If you don't have a Sonic near you I simultaneously feel sorry and relieved for you.
• Smoking. My brother is quitting after smoking for nearly 20 years (I'm guessing here, but I think I'm close). He's also running and biking. So basically he's my new hero. I have a feeling he's going to kill the next Kilgore Reunion/Fanny Autrey Memorial 5K run. WOOT!
• MTV. I know it's not family programming but wowzers bowzers. It's just disgusting. Like, make me want to toss my delicious sonic burger disgusting. There should probably be hyphens in that last sentence. But really, I tried watching the VMAs on Sunday so that I could watch the New Moon trailer (because I'm 12 like that). My SIL was tivo'ing it and thank goodness she was because we were able to fast forward through pretty much every syllable Russell Brand uttered, Lady Gaga's weird lingerie-on-men's-faces performance, and much, much more. oh and we also were able to watch the new moon trailer over and over while certain people who are not me insisted on pausing on the scene where you can see rob pattinson shirtless but like i said that wasn't me. but for five bucks i'll tell you who it was. jeni. not me. jeni but not me.
• Kanye West. Just, yeah. (shakes head)
• Patrick Swayze is dead. And now Baby will spend the rest of her life in the corner.

A panther in the house of Joe...

Tonight as I sat in Parent Teacher night listening to my son's kindergarten teacher there was one thing that stuck out to me:
T-shirt days.

At our elementary school there are designated "days" when you wear specific t-shirts. I think this is probably pretty commonplace. Fridays are "Spirit days" and you wear the school shirt. The first Monday of the month is "USA DAY!" and you're encouraged to wear red, white, and blue or something patriotic.

But what I'm really excited for? Like, really, really, super-duper, crazy excited for?

Every other Monday is "College Day!" Kids get to wear the school shirt where mom and dad went to school. That's right, once a month or so I'll get to advertise Pitt Pride to the world as I send little Camstar to school. Yee-haw. I mean, I practically have my own travelling Oakland Zoo in the van already, right?

Leaving the school tonight I couldn't wait to run home and pick out a new Pitt shirt for my eldest. And in so doing I faced that old rush of feelings as I typed www.pitt.edu into the browser. Oh, man. I really loved Pitt. I mean, REALLY loved Pitt. When Chase was getting ready to enter recruiting interviews in his senior year we very seriously considered Pittsburgh because I have such lovely feelings about the place. I mean, Oakland is a filthy hole, but I just can't help myself. There's just too much to love.

For instance, how could I forget the place that (most likely) gave me heart disease? Or the best breakfast ever known to man? Or those days when I sat at the bottom of the Cathedral waiting for approximately four hours to get an elevator to the 30th floor for class? Or hanging out in Heinz chapel to study (is that sacrilegious?) because it was so amazingly peaceful? Or being lost in Hillman Library because it's enormous and I want to read everything in it? Then there's that super weird date I went on  between finals one time and the guy tried to impress me by telling me that he once brought a knife to school...in kindergarten. And I faked a final and left (ooh, look at the time!). Or the fact that I could take the bus anywhere, anytime. Or the greasy vendors set up on all the corners. Or the amazing parks and botanical gardens just minutes from my urban campus. The incredible architecture. Working for this guy and figuring out just how parties/people get elected (fill the potholes, get the votes). Pittsburgh-Sara, Jeanne, Melissa, Eileen, Kiersten and the entire Oakland Ward. The South Oakland Icon. My mom interrupting my upstairs neighbor/elders quorum president in the middle of his shower to help her hang curtains in the apartment that she didn't really approve of me living in all by myself but went along with because she's supportive like that. Sodas on the sofa - heck, just the fact that every student apartment had a nasty sofa on the front porch. Lugging groceries home from Giant Eagle. Learning the proper pronunciation of the word Steelers. Living in my dorm and then moving to 221 Coltart Ave, 15213 (you have to check it out on google maps so you can actually see it...it's the one on the right side. It's special to say the least). Sitting in my first honest-to-goodness journalism class and listening as my instructor (Marylynne Pitz, who just wrote this piece) called her editor on the morning of September 11 and whispered "Do they think it was Osama Bin Laden?". Returning home that afternoon to find frantic messages from my sister who was only getting news that a plane had gone down in Pittsburgh.

So many memories.

I could go on.

But you want to know what's funny? My attendance at Pitt is something of an anomaly in my family. In fact, it's a point of ridicule with my Nittany Lion siblings. They go on and on about Joe Pa and his amazing ability to coach while in a state of cryogenic freeze; and how Penn State is so forward-thinking because they actually allow cows to enroll; and some professors come straight to class from their organic farms and blah, blah, blah. And you know, hey. That's great. Good for them.

But in that great debate of culture vs. agriculture, you know where my loyalties lie.

 

p.s. I should be banned from blogging. The length of my posts and my inability to edit myself in any way is getting slightly out of hand. All apologies.

Head of the Class

So here are the shots of Cam last Monday at his first day of school. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of Cameron yesterday on his first sick day from school. He was irate that I dared keep him home from his beloved kindergarten. So irate, in fact, that at lunch he glared at me coldly and said, "If you don't let me go to school tomorrow I'm going to leave and go to Nana's. SHE'LL let me go to school."

So yeah, first day.

  Getting into Daddy's car! Cam has a booster in Daddy's car and he gets to ride to school with Daddy every day. Cameron thinks this is basically the best idea ever created.

Getting out of the car. Because it's important to catch EVERY MOMENT, right? Cameron will never again get out of daddy's car on the first day of his entire school career. I'm glad I have photographic evidence.

Us and Cam. Cameron is obviously trying to break free of our loving, adoring grasp. "Mom! There are PEOPLE watching!!"

The first thing you do when you arrive is head to the cafeteria and get in the line for your grade. We walked in and saw all those kids sitting there, the room humming with noise and activity. I looked down at Cam and saw his ghostly white face get even ghostlier. But he stayed strong. He walked to the back of the line and sat down. We stood to the side trying to find that balance between being close enough to make him feel safe and hovering.

Once the bell rings a teacher comes to take the kindergarten line to their classes. Again, we walked down the hallway trying to give the kid his space. As we got closer to his classroom Cam looked around and then made a grab for daddy's hand. This is the point where I very nearly burst into tears.

Cam showing off his sweet lunchbox (that broke on the first day).

The last thing I saw before I walked out of the classroom and left him to the care of his (totally rad) teacher. He was so brave! And trying to act pretty cool. I think he pulled it off, don't you?