Family Outing

Last Saturday the Norths decided to have a Family Outing. 

in the van, ready to go

Bruce and I have been thinking that since we've never taken any kind of family vacation away from home together—not even camping—that maybe it was about time we took our family camping this summer.  But we have no camping gear.  Well, almost none; my scouts have sleeping bags and mess kits.  My sister and my mom have both told me what a cool store Cabela's is (although they say you can't afford to do more than look), and I wanted an excuse to break in my new camera. So for our big North Family Outing we decided to go to Cabela's. 

I'd thought we'd leave between 10:00 and noon, but instead we were piling into the van around 2:30.  This is kind of typical.  And we were hungry, so the first thing we did was go to Smiths and buy some sandwich stuff.  Since this was a Family Outing, we took all the kids into the store to help choose lunch stuff—this is not nearly as stressful as it was about five years ago. Then we ate in the van as we drove to the library to drop off some stuff, and then to another Smiths store for more bread and some cookies. (OK, and to go to the bank inside their store, too, which is another story.)  And then we were really on our way.

waiting for cookies in the van

 

on the drive

 First we drove down to Provo to look at an old car.

well, it was a little cooler in person

It's a 1965 Chrysler Newport—a cool-looking car, in its way, but with a NOISY engine, and needing some work.

 

We are not really the "restore an old car" type; it sounds like fun, but it also sounds like more time and $$ than we can invest right now.  But the little girls enjoyed taking it for a drive with their dad.

Then we back-tracked to Cabela's, and it is a pretty cool store.

We got there just about the same time they'd fed the trout in their big aquarium.  We walked into the aquarium place where we heard lots of children hollering and squealing.  There was one poor goldfish left, being chased around by those great big trout; finally one of them ate it and all the kids left. 

Lindsey says, "Mmmmm, trout!"

Well, our kids stayed and looked at the fish for a while.  Let me tell you, catfish are plain, old ugly.  Why would you ever see one of those and want to eat it? There was some other, even uglier kind of fish there too.

looking at ugly catfish

When we finished looking at ugly fish, we went to the Savana and saw a bunch of stuffed animals leaping about.  Taxidermy is kind of weird, don't you think?

Then we headed right on upstairs to look at camping gear. 


chillin' in the camp chairs

Rachel tries out an air mattress inside a tent.

Jessica tries out the air mattress.

Ryan and I try out the table inside the tent.
Right now we are pretty evenly matched—not for long, I bet!

Hmm.  Bruce and I look rather portly.
What does Bruce see up there?

We ended up spending about two hours at Cabela's.  Then we were hungry again (at 8 p.m.) so we drove back to Salt Lake, went to Harmons to buy some dinner, and headed home for a very late meal.

We did not buy any camping gear—just looked. But we are planning on a camping trip this summer. So I guess we'd better get ourselves in gear!

In Today's News . . .

Here is some real Leap-Day silliness:  After four months of the mildest winter in years (very cold, but almost no snow), we got dumped on for a couple hours on Leap Day, and now have about six inches of snow. 

Yesterday was Michael's birthday!  He is twenty years old. Here's to another sixty to eighty! 

Today is my wedding anniversary!  My marriage is twenty-two years old. 

Here's to another forty to sixty years!

Pedals for Hope

If you are someone who reads my blog regularly (there's about six of you), then you might remember that I write about Pedals for Hope every year in May.  Pedals for Hope is one of my very favorite things about Entheos Academy—I find it very exciting.  But after last year's ride, I heard a nasty rumor that they may not do it again. And, truthfully, last year's assembly fell a little flat, and I never did find out how much money the kids raised.  I wonder if the problem is that it has become more a school project, rather than a student project. I think it would be very sad if they dropped this activity, and I believe that the excitement could be revived if they wanted to do it.  But what do you think it would take to bring back their enthusiasm?

Well, anyway, I wrote this paper for my English class last summer, and I've been meaning to post it here, since I never did write about last year's ride.  This is kind of a cumulation of my past years' Pedals for Hope writings, along with interviews of some of the people who got it going to begin with.  I hope you enjoy it. :-)

PEDALS FOR HOPE

Pedals for Hope assembly 2010
Jeffrey D. Allred, Deseret News

The air of Entheos academy is thick with anticipation and an eager buzz comes from the classrooms. In the large common room a few teachers wait, setting up chairs and making last-minute arrangements for the upcoming ceremony.  Soon children, teachers, and parents fill the room; the teachers are hard-pressed to keep their students quiet in this atmosphere of palpable excitement. When the main student body is seated, one teacher and twenty-three students, ranging from kindergarteners to ninth-graders, boldly march across the room and take their seats in front of the eagerly waiting crowd, where a man and a woman stand, their hands poised to slash with clean, sharp blades.  They are all about to witness human sacrifice.

Working quickly, the man and woman cut ten-inch ponytails from each girl's head; they shave the heads of three boys who have been growing their hair for a year in preparation for this day.  As they reach forward to cut the teacher's hair, an aide is in tears, "I can't believe Ms. Tere is cutting her beautiful hair—I love her hair!"  With each snip, with each shorn head, with each tail that is held high to the crowd's view, the room explodes with shrieking, chanting and cheering.

It is not a pagan ritual.  It is not an Entheos rite of passage.  It is the celebration of their annual cancer fundraiser, Pedals for Hope.

Entheos Academy lists Excellence, Service, and Leadership as its first values, and Pedals for Hope is their culminating service project every year.  In the past four years Entheos students have raised over $20,000 for cancer research at the Huntsman Cancer Foundation.  It is even more impressive that this annual fundraiser was spearheaded by sixth-graders and continues to be propelled by the students.

Pedals for Hope was conceived in 2008, when Entheos sixth-graders did an expedition—a two month long, in-depth study—about cancer.  Their teacher, Kathy Millar, had set up a similar program in Michigan, and wanted to encourage her Entheos students to start a cancer fundraiser.  She explains, ". . . even though I had the idea and the structure, part of that structure is giving kids the freedom and opportunity to own it.  I don't think it is possible for me to say, 'This is what we are doing,' and then [expect them to] do it.  Kids wouldn't buy in.  So . . . we started at ground zero and let the kids make the decisions."

Google Images

Ms. Millar arranged for field trips to the Huntsman Institute for Cancer where, besides learning about the progression of the disease, the students learned that 550,000 people will die of cancer in a year—literally a person every minute.  Visitors were invited to the school to tell kids of their experiences with cancer.  Lindsey North, an Entheos alumnus and one of those original sixth-graders recalls, "The thing that caught my attention the most was that people said they couldn't believe that it was their family member lying on the bed. It didn't look like the person they knew. 

"It surprised me, and made me want to help."

The more the children learned, the greater compassion they felt for cancer victims and their families.  "We wanted to learn more about how to help," Lindsey said.  "We didn't know how to do it, we just knew we wanted to do it. And our teacher, Kathy Millar—she told us about a place called the Make a Wish Foundation."  Ms. Millar took her students on a field trip to the foundation in Salt Lake City, where they were introduced to the magical fairy-tale room that Make a Wish uses to begin their process of granting one wish to children, up to eighteen years old, who have life-threatening diseases.

After that field trip the Entheos students really started brainstorming ideas to promote cancer awareness.  "We toyed with the idea of selling T-shirts, or bracelets, or necklaces," Lindsey said, "but it didn't seem like something that we could really go very far with.  We heard that other people did runs or bike-rides . . . and so we decided maybe we should do something like that instead.  We came up with the name [Pedals for Hope] because we wanted something to do with bikes, and we wanted to give hope."

That year the sixth grade set a goal to raise $3,000 for the Huntsman Cancer Foundation.

"After we chose [a bike tour] we started looking at, 'How can we get money for this?'  We heard that other groups just went out and found sponsors," Lindsey said.  So with help from their teachers, these eleven and twelve-year-olds began looking for supporters.  Together they composed a letter, which they sent to some local businesses.  Later they called those businesses, and some of the kids even visited them to ask for donations in person.  Kathy Millar recalls, "[The kids] got dressed up and went into town to solicit sponsors—this was their idea and they took it so seriously.  It was beautiful."

Other students spent extra hours after school to make more phone calls.  They followed up with their potential sponsors until the day of the bike ride.  They found a business that would donate T-shirts to Pedals for Hope, and they looked for others who would donate bikes and helmets to use for their tour.

But they had another obstacle to overcome: some of the kids didn't know how to ride bikes.

shutterstock.com

So the students made bi-weekly visits to the Salt Lake Bicycle Collective where they learned all about bicycles: what all the parts are called, how they work, how to make minor repairs, bike safety, and the students who didn't know how to ride learned how.  "We took our bikes to school to practice for the bike ride," Lindsey remembers.  "That year only the sixth grade [participated in the bike tour], so it was important that everyone knew how to [ride]."

The students did get discouraged, but at any given time there was a handful of kids who were excited enough to keep the project moving forward.  Lindsey relates, "As we got nearer to the bike ride everybody finally realized that, 'Yes, it's going to go well, and it's something to be proud of.' And everybody's attitude just changed."

The Entheos students planned a two-stage, two-day bike ride, with a campout on the interim night. But the race got rained out, and after a tumultuous night in the tents leaders decided it was too dangerous to continue; they had to go back home.  Ms. Millar said, "Virtually every kid said something to the effect of, 'I feel like we are letting cancer patients down,' or, 'They go through worse times than this.' At that point I knew they got it—it's not about getting out of school or riding the bike; it's about helping. Their empathy was true and their understanding genuine—I was so proud that day!"

Pedals for Hope assembly, 2009

The next day, May 21, 2008, the weather quieted and the Entheos sixth grade finished their tour on the Jordan River Parkway.  They rode their bikes fifteen miles, sporting bright yellow "Pedals for Hope" T-shirts to show their support for cancer research.  Nine girls had heard of Locks of Love, the organization that makes wigs for patients who have lost their hair.  These girls pledged to donate their hair if they reached their $3,000 goal.  They not only reached the goal, but almost doubled it, earning $5,411 that year.

The entire school was so excited by the success of Pedals for Hope that it has become an annual event.  They extended the bike-riding privileges to the whole middle school; now students have the choice of riding from ten to fifty miles, and several parents and teachers ride with them.  Some middle-schoolers who don't want to ride wait at posts along the trail to give small snacks, water, and, most of all, encouragement to their bike heroes.  The rest of the student body participates in the annual Penny Wars—a competition throughout the school to see which grade, K through 9, can collect the most pennies to contribute to the Huntsman Foundation.  The Penny Wars alone have earned more than $1,000 every year, and the Locks of Love donations have become a highlight of Entheos' annual celebration of Pedals for Hope.

"Beautiful things [happened] at Entheos," Ms. Millar remembers.  "[One year] the kindergarten class raised over $400 in our Penny Wars; they wheeled out two monstrous jars filled with pennies to surprise us after a day [of] riding—it was awesome.  I loved the way the whole school came out, built an arch with their hands, and gave the kids high fives as they returned from their riding day.  [The kids] could feel the contributions tangibly.  More important than what I feel about the money the kids raise is the way they feel—I will never forget the day we unrolled that first amount.  The sheer joy and pride on their faces was contagious—students believed in the cause, worked hard, and in the end . . . they felt empowered.  And that is what this is all about—empowering kids to do good."

Pedals for Hope bike ride, 2011

It is a beautiful morning; there's a cool breeze, but the sun shines warm on the Jordan River Parkway.  Forty students in matching T-shirts stand by their bicycles, hands on the handlebars, ready to go.  They are getting instruction and encouragement from their teacher, Matthew Edvik.  "The other night the Huntsman Center held an awards ceremony to honor those who have helped them," he tells his kids.  "Entheos is one of only five organizations who received a special award from them."  And with cheering, high-fives, and high hopes, the bike ride begins.

Tell A Tall Tale

I am so happy! I just finished my book.
And it is sooooo cool!

When I was little I had this book called Tell A Tall Tale. It was my favorite book for years and years—I played with it all the time.  Now, in my dotage, I've been fondly reminiscing on those golden years of my childhood, affectionately thinking of the beloved playthings from days gone by. 

Well, not really. 

But this book has been on my mind  recently (for several months) because one day it occurred to me that I could make a book just like it.  So I did it.  About four months ago I gave the story formula to my family and asked them for some ideas.  Then I tweaked their stories, wrote some of my own, illustrated them all, scanned them onto the computer, had them printed, and put my little book together. 

a few of the pages

Cute, I think. But what makes this book really fun (and another item for my North Pole Toys store)  is that it is a puzzle, too.

I just finished it this afternoon, and my kids have already been playing with it a lot. :-)  Yay! It makes me happy!

I didn't plan it this way

If April Showers Bring May Flowers . . .

. . . What do May showers bring?

I still haven't taken any pictures of my fabulous, "A"-earning projects because I have no place with some good light in which to model them. And you're really missing out because I was going to model the fabulous muslin jeans too! If the rain ever stops, I'll still post the pics.

In the meantime, here's what's been happening around here:
Ryan was nominated for Student Council Treasurer at Entheos, and Brandon was nominated for Historian. Brandon made it through the preliminary election and is waiting the final election tomorrow—next Monday (the 23rd) we'll know who won.

Kaylie and the entire fourth grade have been rehearsing and rehearsing a play about pioneers; they are performing tomorrow night. (If you want to see their play, leave me a comment and I'll tell you when and where.)

Rachel's class has been reading The Tale of Despereaux; yesterday they had "Soup Day" in their classroom. All the kids donated something to put into their pot of soup (they made three crockpots full of different soups). Rachel really liked the "Courage Soup" that she helped to make.

Jessica's class went swimming yesterday.

And Brandon and Lindsey are gearing up for the annual Entheos cancer fundraiser, Pedals for Hope. They are still collecting donations, so if you want to help, leave me a comment. Lindsey will donate her hair for Locks of Love at the assembly tomorrow, and Saturday is the actual bike ride—hopefully the rain will stop before then!

In other news, at the beginning of April Bruce accepted a new job. On April 10 he and Michael drove away to Colorado to work for Vivint, selling home alarm systems. After two weeks in Colorado they moved on to Fort Wayne, Indiana, where they were supposed to spend the rest of the summer (until August 27). For reasons I won't go into here and now, we had no intention of telling our families about this job decision. But after one month of being very vague as to Bruce's whereabouts ("He's at work . . ." "He's working 24-7 these days . . .") I was wondering just how long I could really keep this a secret.

Michael decided the job really wasn't for him after about three weeks, and he came home via AMTRAK. He enjoyed the train ride; he said it was really interesting—especially crossing the Rocky Mountains. The downside of the 36-hour ride was that he couldn't afford any more than just a seat on the train, which meant he had to sleep in his chair. But it taking the train sounds pretty cool—I think we'll have to try it some day (except for the sleeping in the hard chair part).

In early May I was spared trying to come up with creative—yet still true—excuses for Bruce's continued absence. After much thought and prayer, he decided that working for Vivint in Indiana all summer was not what he should be doing. He was willing to stay there and work if it was the right thing to do; but he truly felt that it wasn't. So he came back home, arriving here on May 8. Yay!! I was pretty darn miserable with him gone, and at the prospect of a whole summer of him being gone still ahead of us.

After he got back home he got another job offer so quickly that we are certain this was the right decision. Yay!

As for me, I had an entire week-and-a-half off from school, and now I'm back at it again. This semester's agenda is Math 1010 (algebra), English 2010, Cardio Fitness, Flexibility for Fitness, Zumba, and Corset-Making. And yes, I have to make the corsets for myself (I need a model to fit them to every week). We are each making two corsets, and I really don't know what I'll ever do with them after the class is done. Hang them on the wall as art? That will be a busy class, but fun. Algebra will be a busy class, but I don't know about fun.

Well, that's about all. Soon (I hope) I'll post the pictures of last semester's projects, and I'll post about Pedals for Hope, too! Fun stuff!!

Easter 2011

We've had a busy Easter weekend!

Friday night we colored our—raw—eggs.  We only broke three of them!

Yesterday morning we all got up and drove to High Bluff Park for an Easter egg hunt.  They had areas sectioned off for all age groups, so all of my kids got to hunt for goodies.



Jessica hunts



Lindsey and Brandon hunt



What is Ryan doing?

NOW what is Ryan doing?

That afternoon we went to Marilyn and James' house for a barbecue.  We had a nice time visiting with Bruce's family.

And today we took swell pictures so you could see our Easter eggs—or some of them, anyway.  Lots of them went into yesterday's potato salad and tonight's angel-food cake.



Check out Kaylie's long, blond hair!  I didn't notice Jessica sitting in the chair right behind her!



HAPPY EASTER!

  

Mother on Strike!

This Mom has gone on strike.

Actually, I got the idea from my Advanced Sewing teacher. I was talking to my friend, Cherylene (who is a mom of five) about how frustrated I've been with the housework. This semester has seemed more difficult than last semester to begin with; and on top of that, I can't do my homework at home without doing two hours of housework first just so I'll have space to do the homework. Toward the end of class Helen, the teacher, often sits and chats with us older ladies in the class as we work. She told me that one of her neighbors put a sign in the yard, "The mother of this house is on strike!" We all laughed.

Fast-forward to Thursday, March 9. I was sick and headachey all day, and I had my evening class to go to. And I had to take the bus besides, which meant I had to rush to get out of the house, leave just as dinner was ready to eat, and leave the house in rather a state (the house and I were both in a state). I told all the kids who were within earshot that after dinner they needed to clean the kitchen and the living room. I said this to them twice. As I ran to the bus- stop I remembered that we had a package of cookies on top of the fridge that the kids had been coveting. So I called the house, and told Lindsey that after they cleaned the kitchen and living room they could have that package of cookies. And then, for good measure, I texted Michael and told him that after dinner the kids all needed to clean the kitchen and living room and after the rooms were clean they could all have the cookies. I think I made myself perfectly clear.

When I got home at 10:35 that night I was tired and starving, so at first I didn't completely notice the state of things. I did see that the dinner dishes had been washed—yay, kids! But after I had my very late dinner I saw that the stove had dried up rice, hard, oily bits of cheese, oil, and grit all over it, and that it was covered with unwashed pans. The counters were not cleaned, the floor was not swept, the sink was filthy and had some dishes piled in it. The living room was untouched. And, adding insult to injury, the empty cookie package was sitting on the kitchen table!!

not my kitchen, but you get the idea

The next day was Friday. No school for me. By the time the kids had gotten ready for school the kitchen sink was heaped with dirty dishes, and the counters were still piled with stuff too. I could get the house whipped into shape, although it would take me the entire time that the kids were in school to do it. But I just plain-old didn't want to. I was wavering on whether or not I should clean up because, after a month with no oven, that very Friday I decided it was worth calling a repair man to at least look at it. (Turns out it was very much worth having the repair man come.) I would die of embarrassment if this guy came in to check out my oven and the kitchen (and particularly the range) was as filthy as it was.

And then I remembered the mom on strike. So I made a sign and hung it in my yard. And I made a list of grievances and proposed solutions and posted it on the front door. I felt a little qualm about it—I knew that it could be embarrassing for the family. But I thought I'd rather let them be embarrassed than be totally mortified—as well as over-worked—myself. So. I am on strike.

Bruce got home before the kids were out of school that afternoon, and he was quite willing to support me and play my game. He said that if I was on strike I'd better not go pick the kids up from school; so he did it. And he made them come in through the front door (instead of through the garage) and he made them all stand around on the front porch and read my STRIKE notice that was posted there before they came in. (Which, I found out later, made the neighbors wonder what was going on.) Then he divvied out the housework—including laundry—amongst them and told them to consider the strike as a permanent thing.

They got the house to look fairly decent that afternoon—not to my standard of perfection, but not so bad. And they did OK on Saturday—especially considering that our stupid plumbing backed up that day (Bruce fixed that—My Hero!).

By Sunday afternoon the house was looking pretty disastrous again. As I worked on fixing dinner (I was going to stop cooking too, but reconsidered since I still want to eat good stuff) . . . As I fixed dinner on Sunday, I thought how nice it was that my spring break was starting this week and I could get the house looking the way I want it to. And then I realized that, no, I can't do that. I want my kids to learn this lesson: There is no slave of the lamp, no magical being that comes to our house to clean up, cook, shop, do laundry, etc. And Mom isn't magical either; she is tired.

So I'm leaving all the housework—except for what I use just for myself—to be done by my family. It might kill me!

Or maybe the kids will step up. I hope so!

Hunger

I miss having babies. Can you believe that? I mean, really believe it?

If I really stop and think about it, I remember that I hated being pregnant. Being sick non-stop for several months; gagging every time I brushed my teeth; and enduring a pinched nerve that would stop me dead in my tracks several times a day—if I was able to get started at all (and that problem has never completely gone away from me). Joints so loose that I thought I was falling apart; an emotional wreck; feeling heavy; thinking I looked awful all the time. Yeah. I did not like that. Labor was no picnic either—especially my intense dread of labor and delivery; and not just with the first one or two—I was afraid to the point of tears every time. And then a baby that keeps you up all hours of the night; huge, swollen (and leaky) breasts; dirty clothes all the time—not the just baby's, mine too.

Really, it sounds like no fun at all.

But lately I see women with new babies and have a twinge of envy; a little bit of, "Oh, I want one!" And I even see pregnant women and think they look lovely, and miss it—being pregnant. Not the being sick, of course. But the growing of a new life inside me. Feeling a baby move within me; having a little someone to talk to (so I don't just look like I'm talking to myself). And then that sweet, amazing someone who is mine and more incredible than any other being in existence.

It is kind of sad that I didn't appreciate it more when I was going through it. Well, I always appreciated the babies; just not the being pregnant. I don't really blame myself for feeling that way—not at all. I was sick and miserable, and my babies all came in quick succession: eight kids in eleven years—and the last three of those eight (Kaylie, Rachel and Jessica) were born in three years (2001, 2002, 2003). I was pretty worn out, and it really did take years for the pinched nerve to not bother me daily; sometimes it still does sneak up on me.

I do think that now—after a long break—I would appreciate it more. But having a new baby of my own is in my past; I am not having any more. This doesn't really make me feel sad because I can remember all the busy, hard stuff about those little babies, and I don't think I really want to tackle it now, in my dotage. ;-)

But most of all, I love my family; all my kids are amazing and it is so fun to see them grow up. And whoever spread that nasty rumor about teenagers—I don't know what their problem was. Teenagers are terrific! A little willful sometimes, yes; but lots of fun.

So, no; no more babies for me. Just delighting in the family I have. And, I hear that grandchildren are even better than your own kids. Just a few more years from now—like five to eight. Now there's something to look forward to!