It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas!

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And I expect it will continue to do so for the next three weeks, or until we drop dead from exhaustion, whichever comes first.

Was Thanksgiving weekend just a week ago?  It seems much farther away, I suppose mainly becauJse we took down our few Thanksgiving decorations and put up the Christmas stuff so quickly.  My theory is: get the tree done as soon as possible, or it doesn’t happen at all.

Jeffrey was most interested in our creches — for the past several years, we have gone down to Ten Thousand Villages and picked out a nativity set from a different country.  So far, we have creches from Peru, Indonesia, Maylasia, and Germany (uh . . . we found that at a thrift store).  This year, we picked out a lovely one made of Kishi stone from Kenya.

All of this extra color and diversity must have inspired Jeffrey, because he immediately went to his room for a while before reemerging with a creche made of Legos.  Joseph is a little Lego person inside, but he couldn’t find any more Lego people for Mary and Joseph, so they are represented by a flower topped with a yellow brick.

A flower — I am especially fond of this detail, since one of my favorite Christmas carols is “Lo, How A Rose is Blooming.”

Speaking of which, Eleanor is delighting in dancing around to the various carols and yuletide melodies I plunk out at the piano after dinner most evenings.  When she isn’t dancing, she likes to sit on my lap and watch.  

Funny thing is, no matter what I play — from the Nutcracker Suite to “Go Tell It on the Mountain” — she points at the music and says, “When I was a little girl, I learned how to sing this song in Spanish at my preschool!”

Oh, when she was a little girl, indeed!

Twice Thanksgiving

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This was the first year that my parents told me not come to their house for Thanksgiving. 

Oh, yes.  But not out of spite or harpiness, but simply because my parents have decided that this was the year that all married children eat at their in-laws’ houses.  Next year, we’ll all be back at home.  (My mom said “we get the odd-numbered years, because we’re so odd.”)

So . . . dinner in Provo.  Brian and I were in charge of making my family’s luscious secret-recipe rolls, and acquiring a fancy cheese plate.  Oooh, fancy cheese!  My heart rejoiceth at the thought of thee!  Cheese is REALLY something to be thankful for, no?  Brian’s family had never had a cheese board as part of Thanksgiving; Brian and I got the idea beacause our friends from Pittsburgh, the Seppis, always began holiday meals with one.

Brian and I spent an evening sniffing wedges at the Harmon’s quite excellent cheese counter, and this is what we picked:

  • Morbier — this is a cheese with two layers, separated by a fine border of ash.  The bottom part is from the morning milking, and the top from the evening milking.  It was voted the favorite.
  • Mimolette — a carrot-orange, medium-strong hard cheese.  We bought it for color.
  • Onetic Tomme Noir — a mild white cheese with a black rind.  I found the day after that it makes the best turkey sandwiches.
  • Stilton — the classic British blue cheese.
  • Sage Darby — white and green cheese that we bought again for color.  I think the sage flavor was a little overpowering.
  • French Bouche — a creamy soft goat cheese
  • Barely Buzzed — a locally made cheese; the rind is rubbed with crushed espresso beans and lavender
  • Cahill’s Porter – a white cheese with chocolate-brown marbeling, it’s made with beer.  Its dramatic coloring is in weird contrast to its mild flavor; it was good, but we were disappointed.

And yeah — there was turkey, sweet potatoes, and whatnot.  We stayed up late playing “Sets & Runs,” which I believe is not so much a game as a way to torture your mind.

After that, came Thanksgiving Two: my mom called everyone up last-minute and invited us up to West Point on Friday night to eat leftovers together and play games.  Because all of my siblings were there, and we were eating a full Thanksgiving spread (oooh, heavenly shrimp salad!) it was like we just had two holidays in a row.  After eating, we all stayed up late playing Rock Band.  (I achieved a not-too-shabby 28 phrase streak with “Pinball Wizard.”)  Jeffrey had fun playing on a disconnected bass guitar.  Patrick and Erich rocked the guitar solos.  My 13 year old brother pronounced “Blitzkrieg Pop” as “Bla-gitz-krieg.” 

And much thankfulness was proclaimed by all.

Byeroid, Thyroid

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So, after long last, my thyroid is finally dying!  Hurrah!

For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been suffering from hyperthyroidism (Grave’s Disease) for the past two years.  It began during William’s pregnancy, and I’ve been waiting and waiting for him to be old enough for me to get the treatment: killing of the thyroid completely.  Why?  Here’s what hyperthyroidism gives you:

  • Rapid pulse (120 at rest is my personal all-time high)
  • Heart palpitations (I thought I was having a heart attack)
  • High body temperature (kicking the blankets off at night, even in winter)
  • High metabolism (always hungry)
  • Fatigue (zzzzz)

If you go too long without being treated, your eyes begin to bug out of your head, and it can lead to blindness.  Fortunately, I saw a doctor when I was just at the rapid pulse/palpitations stage.  The standard medication for hyperthyroidism has terrible long-term side effects (painful stiff joints, high chance of osteoporosis), so it’s better to kill the thyroid off and take the medicine for hypothyroidism, the medication for which has nary a side effect at all.

Here’s the treatment: you drink a dose of radioactive iodine.  Your thyroid is the only part of the body which absorbs iodine, so it’s the only tissue that is killed off by the radiation.  The excess radioactive stuff is excreted by the body, which means . . . you can’t be around small kids for a few days. 

See why I had to wait for William to reach toddlerhood?

I fianlly underwent this treatment last Tuesday.  I had to go off my regular medication for three weeks preceeding the treatment, which meant that all my symptoms came back.  I’ve been exhausted, hungry, and hot for a whole month, which is part of the reason why I haven’t blogged, or . . . well, done much of anything for the month of November.

The treatment was odd . . . did you know that many hospitals have a Department of Nuclear Medicine?  And they use a geiger counter to figure out how much radiation might be in your knee?  (At least, they did with me.  “Here, hold your leg still.”)  When it came time to down the iodine, I was lead to a lab hood where a big insulated steel can held a tiny glass vial with a straw inside.  I was given so little iodine that the lab tech had to mix it with tap water so I’d actually have something to slurp up.

The sainted grandmas took over childcare for a few days, and I holed myself up in my parents’ house for the duration.  My parents’ house is very nice, but it’s in West Point, where the most interesting thing to do depends on what books you brought to read with you.  My choices?  Karen Hesse’s Brookyln Bridge, Eva Ibbotson’s The Dragonfly Pool, and Nancy Werlin’s Impossible.  So . . . yeah, I read a book a day for three days.  (The best of the three?  The Dragonfly Pool, although Impossible had the smokin’ hot duct tape scene.)

It’s great to be back with the kidlets.  I missed William especially — I’m used to his constant physical presence, the cuddles, the loveys. 

It will take weeks before I notice any kind of effect from the treatment; my heart still jumps around from time to time.  But it will get better.  I hope.  The biggest question from family has been: with my exposure to radiation, what will my emerging superpower be?  My answer: if I had one, why would I tell you?  Isn’t it standard behavior to keep superpowers a secret?  Besides, I’m always wearing glasses.  You wouldn’t even recognize me in my superhero gear, from which glasses are excluded.

Ha.

We’ve Been Patriotic N’at

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Woop!  The election cycle finally came to a close this week!  And Barack Obama is our first African-American president!

How did people celebrate on election night?

In Michigan, my sister-in-law went to a giant spontaneous rave/nerd party in the middle of campus that lasted until 4 a.m.  It got cra-za-zy when a bunch of percussion majors began drumming, which resulted in all the students marching around town.  I’m sure the good citizens of Ann Arbor were thrilled.

In Brooklyn, my other sister-in-law and her husband noticed that a party was going on on the street corner that night, and they walked down to check it out.  They beat a hasty retreat however, when all the white hippies in attendance began singing “We Shall Overcome.”

(hahahahahahahaha)

At Retro Acres, we decided to host an election-night party.  Because we are indeed in Utah, we decided to keep the spirit of the event non-partisan.  However, this was kind of spoiled when the guests arrived to find our children jumping on the couch and chanting “ba-WOK o-BAMA!  ba-WOK o-BAMA!” 

Most of our friends were not particularly enthusastic about either presidential candidate, so Brian and I tried to restrain ourselves to only a few quiet “woo-hoos” when it was becoming evident that McCain was getting thumped.  And now that our friends are all out of the house, let me just say:

WOO HOOOOOOO!

How was the voting experience this year?  We voted early, at the student union of the University of Utah.  We arrived just before the polls closed, and there was quite a bit of a line.  But the kids were happy to fiddle around with the arcade games and pool tables while we waited.  Utah uses computers for its polls, and Brian and I both let our kids take turns pressing the buttons we wanted. 

After we were finished, we spent time walking around the campus and marvelling at what things had or hadn’t been altered in our absence.  (The Marriott Library looks so sleek and shiny now!  But the same dusty-book smell remains.) 

Change: it’s certainly something to believe in.  Ha!

The Gospel According to Eleanor

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Tonight, after finishing up trick-or-treating, we gathered the kids together for our evening family prayer.  It was Eleanor’s turn.

“Dear Heavenly Father,” she began  “Thank you for Halloween.  Please bless the candy that we got trick-or-treating, that it will be safe.”

A pause.

“And please bless the candy that I got in my goody bag at preschool that it will be safe, too.”

Ah, yes.  There’s nothing as fascinating as the flimflummery that erupts when you mix religion with toddlers.  Things have been especially interesting, Eleanor-wise, since we began sending her to a “Christian” preschool. 

“Christian” meaning: they have “chapel” twice a month, spend a short time every day doing “Jesus Time” (aka, they hear Bible stories), and all of the children have learned the dreaded Noah Song.  You know:

God said to No-ah, There’s gonna be a floody floody!

Errrrrrgh, I’ll stop right there.  However, it’s the “Jesus Time” that seems to be having the biggest influence on Ella’s worldview.  Namely, the way she percieves the New Testament to be.

Usually, during weekday breakfasts, I’ll have my own bit of scripture-storytelling with the kids, which usualyl means reading from the Book of Mormon Reader (yes!  With the illustration of a middle-aged, potbellied Ammon!  That’s the one!).  But lately Eleanor has insisted on telling the scripture story all by herself. 

This is the way it usually goes:

“Once upon a time, there was a wonderful man named Jesus.  He was very nice.  But then — BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!”

–here she pounds on the table–

“Some Romans came and tried to kill Jesus.  So he ran away —swoosh! and hid in a beautiful garden.  And those Romans could not find him!  The End!”

My transcript really doesn’t do justice to her interpretation, which usually involves a lot of gesturing and vocal inflection. 

I haven’t the heart to correct her story, and even if I tried, I doubt she’d take me seriously.  Eleanor’s the sort of kid who picks out a particular world-view and sticks with it, come what may.  Heaven help us if she ever becomes involved in politics.

Halloween at Retro Acres

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Awww.  Ain’t he cute?  I had the pleasure of witnessing the elementary school Halloween parade this morning, and Jeffrey was thrilled to walk with his class.

 

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s a centurion — or, as he puts it, “a Roman captain of the guards.”  Not some common foot soldier, oh no.  He became interested in the costume after recieving a Roman Playmobil set for his birthday.  Of course, yesterday he came home from school insisting that he had to change his costume to a mummy — or rather, “a Roman mummy” — but gave up once I told him that we didn’t have any “mummy wrapping stuff.”

Hmmm.  Do you think there ever were any Roman mummies?  You can see it — some Roman stationed at the garrison in Cairo, who converts to  . . . um, Ra-worship or whatever, and is embalmed after his death?  Eh?  Should I be staying away from the candy bowl?

And here’s Eleanor at her preschool this morning:

 

She is wearing the Raggedy Ann costume that my mother made for me when I was three years old.  My mom’s been saving it for decades, and now the granddaughter finally gets to wear it.  The striped kneesocks are, in my opinion, what elevates this costume from cute to awesome.  Awwwww!  There’s a homemade crepe paper wig that goes along with this costume, but I’m partial to the pigtails, myself.  (Truthfully, my only memory of wearing the costume as a three year old is the sensation of the crepe paper rattling around my face.  I didn’t like the wig, but Eleanor thinks it’s cool.)

William’s going to be a sheep for Halloween, but we don’t have any pictures of him in the costume yet.  It’s the costume that Jeffrey wore when he was one, featuring a hat that Brian knitted himself.

For supper tonight, we’re having sausage chowder in little pumpkin-shaped bread bowls that I found at the grocery store, and I’ve managed to obtain a box of the ever-adorable Halloween doughnuts from the Banbury Cross bakery.  It’s a box of doughnuts in the shape of cats, bats, ghosts, and pumpkins, complete with candy corn eyes and sprinkle decorations.  Squee!

Of course, the best part of the evening will be giving out candy to kids with our fake-hand bowl.

For those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s a big plastic bowl with a fake hand glued to the bottom.  You put your hand inside the fake one and find a secret black glove that is sewn to the inside of the bowl.  When the bowl is full of candy, the glove is obscured, and when kids reach in for their treat, you can reach up and grab them from the inside of the bowl. 

Little kids (like, age 4 and under) don’t think that this is scary, just confusing.  It’s the older kids who have learned to be scared, to expect a trick when told to take their own treat.  Some kids want to put their hands in the bowl and get grabbed over and over again (although I’m always careful that they only take one piece of candy). It’s fun.  And inbetween trick-or-treat visitors, I get to sit on the porch, eat doughnuts, and read a book.  What can be sweeter than that?

The Pictures Are Back!

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Yes!  The house is FINALLY under controll enough that I can once again blog without guilt!

Which means that I can add purty pictures to the blog!  Check it out:

Alpine Loop, 5 October 2008. PURTY!
Alpine Loop, 5 October 2008. PURTY!

Yesterday Brian and I spent the second half of General Conference driving the family down to the grandparents’ house in Provo.  We decided to take the scenic route, going out to Park City, then down through Midway and ending with the spectacular Alpine Loop, a winding road that takes you through the aspen-and-evergreen forests of Mt. Timpanogos.  We saw many, many scenic vistas, and many, many people taking photos of them.  Playing Spot-the-Tripod became something of a sport.  Alas, most of MY photos didn’t turn out so well, and the one above doesn’t quite capture the Beethoven’s-Ninth-Symphony-Esque-Grandiosity of it all.  Let’s just say that a few days ago I was moping about, missing autumn on the East Coast, but now I don’t feel that way at all.  Hurrah for snowcapped mountain peaks!

Here’s another spectacular photo, although you may not appreciate it as much as I do:

This is Eleanor’s first-ever attempt at writing her name!  Well, her first two attempts, really.  She’s very interested in reading and writing, which is a big change of pace compared to Jeffrey.  Jeffrey, at age six, still needs to be prodded with a hot iron just to pick up a pencil, while Ella’s diving into the whole alphabet thing full on. 

Eleanor and I were so excited about her name-writing that we had to celebrate with some Pumpkin Brains:

“Pumpkin Brains” is just the name we give on of my family’s favorite Halloween treats.  You mix dry-roasted peanuts and candy corn together, and eat them together in the same bite.  The resulting combination tastes a LOT like a Baby Ruth bar and is mega-addictive.  Before I discovered Pumpkin Brains, I simply could not understand the appeal of candy corn (on its own, it is rather oo-ugh) but nowadays I usually insist on hunting down the Brach’s brand candy corn.  (Oh, so far superior to every other brand.  I can only find it at Target.)  Getting the correct 2:1 peanut-to-candy ratio is, needless to say, essential.

Live Blogging the Presidential Debate!

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 . . or rather, keeping track of what my kids say while we watch the debate.

(Just so you know: today Jeffrey turned six, and we’re having fun putting together his new Star Wars Lego set while watching the show.)

7:25 —

“Mom!  Are you going to run for President?”  This is not the first time Jeffrey’s asked me.

But Jeffrey, who would take care of you while I’m doing that?

“Oh, I’ll just spend time cleaning up your office while you’re gone.”

And when I’m home?

“Then I’ll clean up the other rooms in the White House.”

Why would I make a good President?

“You would help people find a job.”  Hmm.

“And you would help get the wrecked ships out of the way.”

Okaaaay.

“And you would help George Washington gather up all of his cannons!”

(I make a long whistle.)

“And I’ll do anything for you, Mom!  I’ll do any task you want me to!”

I like that can-do spirit, kid!

7:41 —

Who are the people on the screen, Jeffrey?

“Bawak Obama and Sentator McCain!”

7:45 —

How would you solve the war in Iraq?

“I would get a bigger army and force those two other armies back to their own countries.”

If only it were that easy.

Just for the record, I can’t get Eleanor to say anything cute or clever about the debate.  Whenever I ask her what she thinks about say, government spending reform, she says “I don’t know!” and does a dance.  Three year olds!  Sheesh!

Well, the laptop battery’s getting low, so I’ll have to conclude my comments for the evening.  Ta!

Another Quick Note

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As we STILL have no internet access at Retro Acres, the posts are going to continue on the slim-to-non-existent side.  The new service is supposed to be installed on Sept. 8 (!)  (long wait!) so hold yer horses ’till then.

We’re visiting the grandparents for the weekend, which is why I was able to pop online and do a quick post.  More on what we’ve been up to later, but for now:

Last night Brian was videotaping the Democratic National Convention for his family while I was out at a storytelling concert.  The kids were running around the room while it was on, occasionally noticing what was onscreen.  Occasionally, that is, until Barack Obama appeared.  After viewing the barrage of inspirational speeches, campaign songs, and soft-focus life story, Jeffrey pointed at Barack and said in a hushed voice,

“Dad, is he going to save the world?”

(ha!)

I guess he does come off as a bit of a superhero-type for a five-year-old, what with the thronging crowds and all.

Brian’s response?

“Um, he’s going to try.”

Movin’ Out. . . Er, In

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Tomorrow is the day — Moving Day!

YES — almost two months to the day since Brian and I first arrived in Utah, our new house is, while still not 100% finished, livable and so we are moving into Retro Acres tomorrow.

Yeah.  That’s the nickname we’ve given the house.  It isn’t stately or charming or anything — I highly doubt we’ll be getting stationery with that embossed on the top — but it’s appropriate.  What else do you call the house with avocado kitchen appliances, a collection of high fluted tapioca glasses, and a “Florida Room”?

Did I mention the ever-awesome built-in sunburst clock?  Oh, Retro Acres, indeed.

The two months of construction have taken their toll, however.  My mother and I spent this entire week cleaning, cleaning, cleaning the kitchen, laundry room, and bathrooms.  (Floor scrubbing!  ACK!)  But it’s turned up some exciting discoveries, like an Ableskiver pan (mmmm, pancake balls), a hand-cranked kitchen gadget called a “Shred-O-Mat,” and a tiny brass fire extinguisher from what appears to be the 1940s.  Its packaging features a line drawing of a man putting out a flaming Studebaker.

Anyway, we haven’t arranged for an internet service provider in our new home yet, so it will be a while before I’m able to post again (unless I can sneak a trip up to the library or whatnot).