Long Run Jitters

So tomorrow it begins...my feet have never before carried me as far as they will tomorrow. And from now on until September, my Saturdays will be full of uncharted territory.

I know I shouldn't really be nervous. After all, there's nothing really riding on me actually making it 14-16 miles tomorrow. If I have to walk a few steps, no one's life will be in danger. If I do 14 instead of 16, I won't have to pay anyone large sums of money. My children will have enough food to eat regardless of what pace I run.

So I need to take some deep breaths and remember that all is well, spending time talking to good friends is nothing to dread, and that if I'm too slow for Liz, I can just send her on her way. My iPod has a new This American Life episode, a downloaded audiobook and plenty of music, so I won't be lonely. And spending time alone with my thoughts would be welcome, too.

OK, mission accomplished. I'm feeling a little more zen about the whole "run a really long time tomorrow" thing. Now if I can only convince myself to go to bed on time...

Curse You, Nancy Drew!

Once upon a time, I was a little redheaded bookworm. I even had lovely brown glasses to better fit the book-loving profile. I read and read and read and read. My uncles teased me. I remember being forced out of the van (away from my book!) on a family camping trip to hike with my cousins. And of course, as with any mystery-loving bookworm of a certain age, Nancy Drew was one of my best friends. I had a set of the first 20 Nancy Drews (a gift from my piano teacher. She also gave us the first 20 Hardy Boys) and I read all of those in no time flat, and then devoured every one on the shelf at the library.

It's been years since I've spent time with Nancy, her roadster, Bess, George, and Hannah, but I've recently remade her acquaintance, thanks to my sweet Sophie and her choice of books on CD. We have to drive to Bountiful a couple of times a week for soccer practice for Josh (because we thought we'd better let him try out for comp soccer both here AND by the new house just to cover our bases) and so we're listening to a lot of audiobooks, among which have been The Hidden Staircase and The Mystery at Lilac Inn.

Ahhhh, Nancy. Listening to your books reminds me of some of my life's little disappointments, including:

I've never been able to solve a mystery based on a typewriter's idiosyncrasies (as in, "Oh, look! The "a" on this note is noticeably lighter than the other letters. If we can find this typewriter, we'll find our thief!").

My dad never bought me a cute little blue roadster.

I didn't get to just take off for weekends (in said blue roadster) to hang out with my vast number of dear dear friends who happen to live in really cool old mansions.

Real life crimes are so much dirtier than stolen diamonds and pretend ghosts.

I have no Hannah waiting at home to cook me lunch or dinner or snacks or to worry about me and take care of all of my household needs.

And truly worst of all, no place I've EVER lived has had secret passageways or hidden rooms. I'm very devastated about this. It's always been a desire of mine to have a secret staircase, and NOW I KNOW WHY!

It's all those Nancy Drew books I read. They've spoiled my view of the world forever. So curse you, Nancy Drew, you and your sleuthing upper-middle class hobby-filled ways.

Oh well. At least we share titian hair...

Midsummer Day's Musings

It must be said: It's been a lovely summer so far. We've had lots of little pleasures (neighborhood barbecues, swimming, trips to the library) and some big pleasures (the Wasatch Back, staying at Stein Eriksen in Park City last weekend, having visiting family (Bri, Celia, Brent), the Green reunion, and Kurt and Ash moving to SLC).

And then my neighbor Joni said this morning that school starts four weeks from yesterday. Four weeks? Four? As in FOUR? First of all, this week is nearly OVER. Then we have next week. Then Josh goes to Scout Camp for the following week. Then we go to California for my tenth (OK, my 20th) high school reunion. Then SCHOOL STARTS.

School starting has its charms. Monday was one of those days that I thought would put me under. If you read my blog on Google Reader, you already know that after my very honest post about my very loud screaming. I think my chest still hurts from screaming. I deleted the post, because I think it was just a little too much information. I know that none of you pictures that life is perfect around the GreenHouse, but still... Let's just say, there are days that I think summer can't end too soon.

But there are many more days that I think summer should just keep on spinning its lazy charms. I want more downtime, less time pushing the kids to "PLEASE GET YOUR WORK DONE." I want more reading outside on a blanket, less trying to keep the house ready to show at any time. I want more happy children playing with friends and less bickering children whining about this or that or this again. So I have decided that we will take some time off of the schedule I've been forcing us all to stick to. Two and a half weeks without music lessons or practicing won't hurt too much. Two and a half weeks with less planning, less screaming, less structure...I'm breathing easier just considering it.

So here is what I hope for the rest of summer: More concerts, more friends, more pool time, more park time, more bored time, more relaxing time, more reading time. Less yelling, less fighting (As If), fewer rules, less stress. Will it salve our souls? I hope. Will it give my children some lovely memories? I hope.

(And underlying all of these plans, there is that constant hum in my brain: Will the house sell? Will we have to move? What do we do if the house doesn't sell in time? What will happen by this time next month?...I can't wait to know the answers...)

Heaven Help Us. There's a Teenager in the House.

Josh is THIRTEEN today. He really truly is. And just to make matters worse, he got a CELL PHONE for his birthday.

A teenager with a cellphone.

He wasn't always a teenager. Once he was a little tiny blond boy with curls who played with imaginary friends, loved puddles, and ate quesadillas, eggnog, pancakes, and not much else. We went to the library twice a week. He loved hanging out with his friend Mathew. He loved work trucks of all varieties.

And now he's a teenager. He loves hamburgers (they used to make him gag), pizza, and pie. He plays the cello and the piano. He likes tennis and skiing. He adores soccer. He loves little children, especially babies, and they love him. He reads too late at night. He sometimes gives us attitude. He often makes us laugh. And did I mention he now has a cell phone?

My mother-in-law tells me that she loved having teenagers, that she missed them when they grew up and moved out of the house. She also tells me that she was terribly sad at the end of summer vacation when they went back to school. Here's hoping that I'll feel the same way for the next six years. I really really really love this kid. I hope he maneuvers his way through these tricky years with grace, good friends, a lot of fun, and few major mistakes. I hope we're all living at the end of it. And I hope he doesn't go over his text message limit.

My Beautiful Sisters, Take Two

I have not yet been convinced that taking down the previous pictures I posted is necessary (bribes still accepted...) but I think you should see my sisters in their more natural settings...



It's true, they don't look as glamorous as they did in my last post. Hope you'll forgive me, girls.

I'm a Little Disturbed

I know. I'm 37. I'm not totally fashion-forward. But I'm afraid I really don't get this.

I didn't get the Native American Headband look either, but apparently it's still pretty hot.

I guess I'm better off not trying to make fashion forecasts, because most of what I think looks funny ends up being tres tres chic.

My Beautiful Sisters

You know, I have really lovely sisters. It's a good thing they aren't closer to my age, because I would have been mad all the time that they were taller than me AND get lovely tans AND are so darned pretty.

Anyway, I think you'll see the family resemblance. Aren't they just gorgeous?



Seriously. Can you see why I have a complex?

Dude, Bri, you look crazily possessed. Man. Don't let your daughter see this picture or she may have nightmares. And Chelsea, your jaw just kind of disappeared. How did that happen?

Darling sisters, I'll accept bribes of many kinds (babysitting, food, cold hard cash) to take this post down. If I receive NO offers, however, these get posted on Facebook and tagged (and retagged if you untag it. And retagged. And retagged.)

My mailbox will be waiting for your email...

(I love you guys! I've had a blast hanging with you the last little while. Can't wait for more sister time!)