and otherwise unnecessary blather

merry christmas

2011-12-23T23:47:00.000-08:00

McWisecrack was in rare form.

McChuckles asking me how the heck he allowed himself to be suckered into this photoshoot.

That's right. Own it.

{all photos by the lovely Allison Tyler Jones}

our girl turns 11

2011-12-22T09:08:00.000-08:00

I worked for hours on this book from Paper Coterie. Love the quality.

And, as usual, thanks to cousin Delia for giving me the idea!

{Thank heavens it arrived just in time}.

{from Aunt Steph and Uncle Nathan}

gearing up...

2011-12-22T09:00:00.000-08:00

It would be impossible for me to live one more Christmas without these Peppermint Cupcakes that Caroline and her pal Syd whipped up on the fly. The recipe is as follows: Make a yellow cake mix, add crushed up candy canes. Bake as directed.

Frosting: your basic buttercream with a candy cane simple syrup, a titch of red food coloring, and a drop (or two) of peppermint extract.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

The neighbors are already asking when they will receive their traditional gift of pure spun creamed honey that we shipped from Marc's family's Meyer Honey Farm in South Dakota.

It's silky sweet perfection in a tub.

Round two.

This year I let the girls help with their teachers' crayon wreaths.

I'm glad I relinquished absolute control over this project because 1) it saved some serious time having their help, and 2) we had fun doing it together.

I did the hanging ribbons, though...

Remember last year's wreath odyssey? Good golly.

And, of course, the annual Wright Dynasty Christmas Caroling Extravaganza.

Do these darling grandparents look amused, or ready to employ their tasers?

you decide.

pretend it's October

2011-12-17T00:10:00.000-08:00

and we did especially give thanks for these folks:

2011-12-12T00:25:00.000-08:00

{it was my Aunt Nancy H}

a deep sigh of gratitude

2011-12-11T23:40:00.000-08:00

and so thanksgiving begins.

2011-11-24T00:56:00.001-08:00

why I am what I am.

2011-11-20T22:23:00.001-08:00

This took some introspection.

And, completely unrelated, there's the newfound fame issue...

Anyone need a book for Kiddie Book Club?

2011-11-16T22:50:00.001-08:00

Lucky for me, right on the heels of my pre-holiday breakdown, came some well-timed comic relief.

As I was putting Ellison to bed, she naturally wanted to read with me. I grabbed a chapter book off of her shelf called "The Higher Power of Lucky". It was a Newbery Medal Winner. Guh-reat! We hadn't read that one yet, and frankly I was a tad bored of mimicking what I thought Junie B. Jones' voice sounded like.

Here we come, warmth and fuzzies! Let us wind down together, darling daughter...

{An excerpt from Page 1}:

"Sammy told of the day when he had drunk half a gallon of rum listening to Johnny Cash all morning in his parked '62 Cadillac, then fallen out of the car when he saw a rattlesnake on the passenger seat biting his dog, Roy, on the scrotum."

So much for dewdrops and lollipops.

Too tired to discuss scrotal and/or alcoholic implications with my seven year old, I stared into her elfin-like face and mentally begged her just not to ask. Too tired. Too tired. Too tired.

Subsequently, my Junie B. Jones impersonation was dead-on.

2011-11-16T08:16:00.001-08:00

The "I'm overwhelmed" holiday breakdown came a little early this year.

Expectations of the morning pulverized. Kids hadn't practiced the piano before school.  Again. Scriptures not read over breakfast. Again. Lunches not made for kids. Again.  Gym clothes sidelined.

Again.

(For an outfit perhaps better suited for the school Book Fair).

Seven pounds gained.

A smattering of various other shortcomings magnified. Forgetting to pick up Ellison at piano lessons was a particular lowlight of the week. "Mom, are you ever coming to pick me up?" was the exact phraseology.

I was a puddle of tears sitting on the stepstool in my closet by 8:30am.

The tears were cathartic. The self-flogging over in five minutes.
[Twenty, tops].

The thought bubble over my head might have read:  "Maybe I will attempt to sausage myself into Caroline's spandex mermaid tail and go swimming. Then surely things would look up..."  (?)

Moving on.

Post edit: After deeming the morning utterly unsalvageable, I mumbled something under my breath in the general theme of "I quit" and went back to bed until noon.   Thankfully there was a Bubble Guppies marathon on for Charlotte.

I'm back.

you know you want one

2011-10-27T00:37:00.000-07:00

My girls' lifelong dreams of becoming mermaids have officially been realized!!

That, and some genius little grandma feverishly whipping these up on her sewing machine in Idaho is gonna be rich!

Even cousin Bridgette got in on the Mermaid Fever, as the girls pretended to "swim" around all day.

More like little slugs slugging around on the filthy floor.

Helps with the girls' butterfly kick too!

(Because that's all they can manage in these constricting getups).

And don't even try to run...running with your knees glued together hasn't played out so well for the girls.

We can't seem to get enough of these.

What the darn are we supposed to do when it's 95 degrees in AZ at the end of October?

Impersonate mermaids, that's what.

I will be getting one for myself.

{not kidding}.

For my own dreams of mermadia.

You know you want one.

fall break 2011

2011-10-15T22:34:00.000-07:00

Marc and I walked into our house tonight (at 11:19pm Texas time), looked at eachother, and muttered: "We pulled it off."

Then we did that fist-bump thing.

Now we are going to bed.

I will state that our trip with all four kids involved the following:

1700 miles (one way) in a rented mini-van across three states,

Five different hotel rooms, (only one gross enough to necessitate the wearing of Hartz 2-In-1 Flea and Tick Collars to bed),

and a fabulous time in the Lone Star State.

strictly for the sake of cuteness

2011-09-26T09:13:00.000-07:00

<--------------------------My Charlotte sure doesn't look like this anymore.
Need to change sidebar photos.

{more photos by Vicki Lynn Photography}

it's a good day when:

2011-09-20T22:04:00.000-07:00

1) It's a good day when you discover a housekeeping twofer.

When transferring towels to the dryer, I found a few plastic dishes in the washing machine amongst some towels that I'd just scooped up off the floor and thrown into the washer.

The dishes sure were clean [enough].

How, I ask you, HOW, have I overlooked the dishes/laundry chore combo?

(And who on earth wouldn't love to come over, plop right down, and have a little snack served on dishes that had just been washed with my kids' chonies?)

2) It's a good day when you learn how to make a new healthy dessert for the kids on Paula Deen {with that SNL Delta Delta Delta sorority twit}:

2011-09-13T00:04:00.000-07:00

I was helping my friend, Kim, at The Tomkat Studio, find a new personal assistant (she hired one of our old babysitters), as her business is skyrocketing. She happened to mention that she needed four-year olds for an upcoming photoshoot that will be appearing on HGTV.com. Would my Charlotte be interested in decorating some cupcakes for the shoot?

Gee, I don't know...YES. We will be there, I told her, just so long as it's not before 9:00am. (The last photoshoot we did with Kim was at 5:00am.)

{{I am allergic to early mornings}}.

Luckily it happened to be at 9:00am. Charlotte was shy around the other girls at first but then buddied right up.

I'm so happy for Kim's exploding business--but not as nearly as happy as I was to get to keep Charlotte's apron and black/white flower, plus half a dozen cupcakes plus three new punches so I can actually punch out some cupcake toppers from Kim's website!

Which should indeed advance my craftiness.

I did happen to mention that if someone actually marketed most of the things involved in this party (black/white polka dot favor boxes, cupcake liners, toppers, a basic pennant banner, maybe some aprons, and some cute cupcake decorating supplies) in one single package, I would be A LOT more likely to host a party like this for my kiddos. Kim said she's working on it...

Although, [should I say this?]: Kids really don't care about the fluff and stuff, it's mostly for the moms.

{yes, I was just struck by lightning}.

OH, and don't forget to enter to win the giveaway on Kim's blog--it ends Thursday...

{all photos by Vicki Lynn Photography}

lovely pinetop

2011-09-02T17:32:00.000-07:00

I spent many summer days in my youth at my Grandma and Grandpa Hoopes' cabin.
How I miss them.
I feel blessed that my children get to spend time here with their beloved grandparents as well.

Charlotte's best dith.guth.ted look

breaking the law

Barreling out of the truck.

dad building a swing

Gavin pretending that he's any help whatsoever.

Ellison testing the swing. It worked.

It doesn't look like they are having any fun here.

Deven, Anne Marie, and Sis Megan

Sister Sus and baby Noelle

Walking to the clubhouse. Five times a day.
Ellison did not let baby Noelle out of her sight (or arms).

The last time my dad, Susan and I hiked to the Mogollon Rim (around 1993) we got utterly lost. Dad prayed for help to find our way home, as it was getting dark.

I'll never forget how my dad opened that prayer in 1993: "Heavenly Father, it looks like we are going to need some help here..."

Shortly thereafter we stumbled upon a house on the reservation and they let us use their phone.

Grandma Hoopes and my mom (who were very worried) picked us up on the Indian reservation near Hondah.

This time dad brought a compass on our hike.

OH the drama that ensued after this "injury".
My nephew Sam

My mom and dad overlooking the Mogollon Rim.
You can see the smoky haze from remnants of the devastating Wallow Wildfires, which were only a few miles away.

The neighbor's dog would come over and get into our food. She ate an entire flat of strawberries that were in a cooler that was left open, plus a Costco-sized bag of snap peas. And then went back to the neighbor's house and yakked it all up on someone's bed.

We didn't see the dog off the leash too much after that.

Sis Megan and nephew Jeffrey

Deven and Raquel engaged in the mysterious plots of Nancy Drew.

An impromptu golf lesson from my dad.
Who doesn't golf.

Gavin grilled food for all 25 of us almost every night.

SIL Ashley and niece Shelby

Charlotte and Grandpa

surely you're kidding

2011-08-26T14:38:00.000-07:00

My sister Susan's new nursery.

{With the decorating prowess of Cami Wright.}

Can you even BELIEVE she wallpapered her ceiling?

Pure boldness.

Darling baby girl loves it.

Can you see her little self on her changing pad?

Let's be honest.

This little pixie could give a rip about her nursery.

All she cares about is sitting around looking cute all day long.

I can't get over this fun graphic wallpaper.

Or this lampshade from Anthro.We found the base at some secondhand store in Phoenix.

Oh, and my sister Sus?

She's a Shel Silverstein aficionada.

This is a mural of Shel Silverstein poems in her landing upstairs.

Sus would like to be a collector of cuckoo clocks.

This is her big girls' room. Not done yet, but almost!

I adore the blues palette with raspberry accents.

Let's talk about this balloon dog sculpture for a momentito.

I had to talk Sus into it at Home Goods but now she's a fan.

It's already been broken and glued back together.

something is missing around here...

2011-08-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

...like everyone's teeth!
[Melanie, Emma, Ellison]

A delightful last-minute summer party

[Kailyn, Melanie, Emma, Ellison]

[Charlotte]

Caroline and her friend Sydney set up a game that they appropriately named "What I'm Eating" (I suppose it was actually called "What I'm I eating" ?). They put random stuff in cups and had the girls taste it and see if they could guess what it was.

{There was the minor gag issue with the things they didn't like}.

midnight craft project #2

2011-08-15T22:03:00.000-07:00

We're well aware of my craftification gifts.

My superhumanly-motivated cousin Delia, (actually my cousin Jared's wife), posted this and I thought it would be a cute gift for a niece or nephew.   Glaring lack of common sense prevailed as I sacrificed precious sleep to paint rocks.

Sister Sus in Yuma: you won't be receiving this "gift". I am afraid my darling nephew Randall could potentially use these alphabetical missiles as ammunition against you, or Savannah, or your newborn, or that disturbing needs-to-be-deported-ice-cream-truck, or some other poor sap, or your new glass shower door in your recently-remodeled bathroom.

Just know that I'm seething mad at you if you ever receive a box from FedEx that sounds like it has rocks in it.

Randall is my favorite lil' guy. [That's what I call him--Lil' Guy].

As in I seriously have a weakness for this kid.

Does this face look like it could do any wrong?  [Rhetorical.]

With chocolate pudding seeping from his clenched fist?

For the sake of fairness, it was MY idea for the cousins to "fingerpaint" themselves and others with chocolate pudding. On my sister's patio.

{Stupidest idea in PARENTING Magazine E.V.E.R.}

Now I can't go to my deathbed with that "NO REGRETS" bumper sticker because this was a decision I deeply regret and my BIL Howard regretted even more as he was cleaning up glops of dried chocolate pudding off the window sunshades and scrubbing the concrete on his hands and knees with his metal BBQ brush.

[Sorry Howard.]

Back to the rocks--I used basic acrylic paints from Michaels, and cheapo paintbrushes. Yes I had to do a couple of coats. I didn't paint the lower-case alphabet on the back, but that would have been a good idea. I outlined them with a Sharpie, and sprayed them with an acrylic top-coat.

If I would do it over again, I would try to find colored paint PENS. I had a white paint pen and that's what I used for the white letters. It was infinitely easier than painting with a brush. My colored paint pens weren't vibrant enough colors to have any coverage--maybe they're out there but I haven't looked. Or maybe a few coats?

You can get the bag of rocks at the Dollar Store [fake floral aisle].

Or heck, go have your kids forage for some rocks outside, for heaven's sake.

[I loved this summer because]

2011-08-11T00:28:00.000-07:00

Jackson has been going to the gym with me.  I suckered him into going to my spinning class a few weeks ago.

He has explicitly refused to go back to that class.

So on Tuesdays and Thursdays we treadmill-ed, StairMaster-ed, did the elliptical machines, played around on the weight machines, and generally meandered around the gym.

Yesterday, on her last day of unencumbered liberation, (school started today), I introduced Caroline to my sacred sanctum--Pizzeria Bianco.

Marc and I had our first date there in 1997 when they were located in the Town and Country Mall on Camelback Road.  We haven't been back thanks to Oprah's endorsement as Pizzeria Bianco being one of the best pizzerias in the country.

No food, I repeat, no food, is worth a two hour wait.

Since they have recently decided to open for lunch, I've decided to brave it again. I went once by myself in April, and I plan on lunching there more often when I'm downtown (which is never).

I've been counting the days until one of my children could have some modicum of appreciation for fine pizza. (Take a flying leap, Hot-N-Ready). She genuinely appreciated our handmade mozzerella, fresh basil, fennel sausage, ricotta cheese, and arugula pizza.

I tell you, this girl has a sophisticated palate for a ten year old.

Then we blew over $100 on "required" school supplies which made me mad as spit.

Yesterday morning (at around 9:00, a grand sleep-in to celebrate the last day of summer), Ellison came into bed with me and we hugged and gabbed and lazed around together and my heart was full of gratitude that all was just about perfect with me and my girl.

Until an hour later when she screamed at me that I should teach a class on "How to be a Horrible Mother".

[offered MWF from 2-3pm].

Charlotte remarked today when I was doing her hair in my bathroom: "You never have any fun, mom. You never play with stuff and you just drive around."

Pretty much.

She obviously thinks I'm a pitiful sack.   So we colored in her circus coloring book. And did some puzzles. [Proof positive that I'm not always driving around].

I hereby recommit to playing with my darling girl.

We've been working on Summer Goals again. Caroline is close to finishing hers. We tried to pick goals that were deep, meaningful, and that would ultimately improve our lives and/or the lives of others.

Like being able to name all 19 of the Duggar kids.

Ellison "lost" her list of goals (and her motivation), and Jackson blatantly refused to do his. {He is, however, working hard on his Scouting stuff}. I shouldn't talk--I haven't even completed one out of my five goals. I think I'll extend the date until August 31st...

Our friends who we knew in Iowa, the Graffs, my cousins Jeff and Laura Fuller and their kids, who were visiting from Alabama, and a good measure of the 85201 zip code {yes, the Wright Family Dynasty}, came over last night for a "Farewell to Summer" pool and pizza party.

2011-08-02T23:40:00.000-07:00

McNotAFrolicker letting me have a moment.

This photo epitomizes our relationship.

Mouthing off to my sister Susan.

At this point my sister wants to beat me senseless with my own camera.

And I'm pretty sure McBeenAGoodSport is just about ready to jump into the ocean with an anvil tied around his neck.

I count four chins.

Finally hunkering down for a respectable photo.
[And, as usual, overusing the soft focus in Photoshop]

31st year at the Beach Cottages.
More soft focus magic.

Just a few of the kazillion photos I took of my gorgeous nieces on the beach

2011-07-29T23:50:00.000-07:00

Deven, my sister Megan's oldest daughter

Raquel, my older brother John's oldest daughter

will you love me or hate me?

2011-07-20T21:16:00.000-07:00

Since we are {unapologetically} watching an inordinate amount of television this summer, we have become quite fond of the

Cupcake Wars.

The natural sequence of events would obviously include a few baking sprees (mostly of cupcakes). I ran across this recipe on a blog yesterday. It had to be reckoned with.

Lindt Truffle Chocolate Cupcakes
(originally posted by The Sisters Cafe)

1 box Devils Food cake mix
1 box instant vanilla pudding (small box)
4 eggs
1/2 c. oil
1/2 c. water
1 cup sour cream
24 Milk chocolate Lindor truffles by Lindt (the red ones)

Unwrap milk chocolate Lindt truffles and place in a bowl for later use.
[If you don't eat them all first].
In a separate bowl, add all ingredients and mix well. Fill cupcake liners 2/3 full. Bake at 350 for FIVE minutes. After five minutes, lightly press a Lindt truffle into each partially baked cupcake.
NOW, I would not have pushed the truffles in so hard next time.
They ended up at the bottom of the cupcake kinda smushed.
Let the cupcakes bake an additional 13 minutes (for a total of 18-19 minutes).
Cool completely, then frost with cream cheese frosting.
I wanted to use chocolate ganache frosting, but as you can see some of the cupcakes fell a little, and the ganache wouldn't have worked so well.

Cream Cheese Frosting:
1/2 c. softened butter
1 brick Philly cream cheese
1 t. vanilla (I like the Madagascar vanilla from Williams Sonoma)
1 box powdered sugar (abt 3 cups)
1-2 T. milk

diamondbacks

2011-07-20T10:10:00.000-07:00

favorite summer game

2011-07-19T14:24:00.000-07:00

If you buy just one game for your kids

to whittle away the remaining summer days,

look into this one.

RUSH HOUR.

It'll help your brain matter solidify again

from the summer mush

that it's been since June.

Charlotte has mastered the Beginner level.

Caroline is in the kitchen wrestling with an Expert card right now.

I had to call Jackson in to help me with my traffic jam last night.

He figured it out.

McWillDenyIt has been known to tinker with it after dinner himself.

beautiful apocalypse

2011-07-10T00:47:00.000-07:00

Good thing my folks drove in from CA when they did.

They beat this gorgeous mess by about an hour.

It's technically called a "haboob" which in Arabic means an intense sandstorm [ours was dirt] commonly seen in the Sahara Desert.

Mom and I decided to go watch the kids swim outside.

It was hot.

We went outside anyways.

We both love the golden glow of twilight.

I started to scrub the bird poop off our chaise lounges.

Caroline pushed Marc into the pool.

Mom kept insisting that there was smoke on the horizon.

"Look at that smoke!" she said.

I didn't look.

Finally I sat down and looked.

I grabbed my mom's hand and we looked at eachother.

I mentally tabulated the amount of time I might need for some rapido deathbed repentance.

[mom needed none].

The tidal wave of dust instantly permeated every pore.

We yelled at the kids to get in the house.

My dad yelled at my mom to find the car keys so he could roll the windows up.

This freak weather anomaly was breathtaking and frightening.

But not so fun to clean up.

Which is why I made Jackson sweep the patio and porch and clean the pool.

We are still getting the grit out of our teeth.

god shed his grace on thee

2011-07-04T10:35:00.000-07:00

[on why dad is the preferred parent]

2011-06-17T14:06:00.000-07:00

Because he watches his little girl's favorite show with her.

I try to watch. Honest.

But somewhere between the map and backpack songs,

I've been known to get myself out on parole

and do something more fun.

Like scrub the toilet seat hinges.

Which haven't been cleaned since the Clinton Administration.

HAPPY FATHERS DAY.

photos jackson took in SLC

2011-06-14T00:46:00.000-07:00

more SLC

2011-06-10T13:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes trips are perfect.

Like this one, for example.

We got to see my bro Gavin and SIL Ashley and their family.

Whom I adore.

[A relaxing meal here with Ashley].

I couldn't have ordered more perfect weather.

I loved my zippy rental car (seriously).

I caught up with my cousins Randy and Marilyn Oveson.

Hiked a gorgeous hike in the foothills with them.

And saw my Aunt Dixie and Uncle Steve.

Watched the South African Boys Choir perform with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Mostly importantly I got to hang out by myself with Jax.

Perfect, I tell you.

my brother Gavin and nephew Garrett

Niece Shelby

Garrett

If you don't own one of these 20 Questions Balls (pictured above), RUN, don't walk, to your nearest Target or Walmart.
It's $10.00 and makes a spiffy birthday gift.
For girls. For boys. Young. And old.
My kids love it.
Marc and I occasionally steal it for ourselves.
My niece Shelby was enthralled with this game.
[I just reminded myself that I must get another one before our long drive to Pinetop].

so what if we got a little Jimmered

2011-06-07T00:25:00.000-07:00

I couldn't tell you the first thing about basketball.

Ironic for a girl who grew up with the last name Hoopes.

Yet any self-respecting BYU alum knows who Jimmer Fredette is.

When we found out Jimmer (and Jackson Emery--as well as the entire BYU basketball team) were giving a basketball camp in Utah--Jackson knew immediately what he wanted for his 12th birthday.

So we flew to SLC. Just me and the only [not foster] son.

"What could be so great about watching a short-ish pasty slightly dorky white guy play basketball?" {methinks}. Then Jimmer played a little basketball. Not a dork. Recant.

Now slightly starstruck, I amused myself by snapping shots here and there, videotaping Jimmer doing his drills in front of 400 mesmerized kids until I was politely asked to stop taking photos and go upstairs where the parents were supposed to be sitting.

the boy turns twelve

2011-06-06T23:47:00.000-07:00

Our only son turned twelve last month.

His father conferred the priesthood on him. Grandpa and Grandma Hoopes were able to come and witness the special occasion, as were Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Nathan.

Love that Jackson/Jax/BigGuy.

[I suppose I'll need to stop calling him "Sweet Pea" soon].

royal wedding

2011-06-06T23:22:00.000-07:00

I caught the girls playing "Royal Wedding" the other day.

Charlotte got to be Princess Kate.

Ellison then claimed Pippa.
(As they both have cute bums).

Cousin Bridgette was relegated to "Pippa's little sister".

Then they had tea.

For hours and hours of pompous Brits

and the accompanying fanfare,

rush to Costco to get this BBC edition of the wedding.

{For only $5.99}

Jolly good, indeed.

only one week left

2011-05-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

No I did not make these.

[Don't feign surprise].

Even though there was a time when my blog should have been renamed
Karen's Kraftee Korner of Kool Krafts.

SHE, however, did make them.

Only $15. (pencils included!)

Perfect for end-of-the-year teacher gifts, don't you think?
{Thanks for the idea, PattyBob}

paging dr. awesome

2011-04-17T00:22:00.000-07:00

I didn't bury it.

The good doctor busted me working on this post and informed me that I could only mention his recent accolade "casually--buried in another post or something..."

Not super buried...but his mother will love this post.

This guy is not just a great dad with a killer jump shot.

[Here's a snippet of his nomination]:

"We would like to nominate Dr. Marc Tobler for the Physician Golden Thread Award. Dr. Tobler consistently demonstrates radical loving care. It's hard to think of one single incident where Dr. Tobler has given excellent patient care, because he demonstrates it on every patient whose care he partakes in."

Aside from the atrocious writing, (can't help it-I'm a former English teacher) I was left scratching my head as to what "radical loving care" meant. Surely my image of the good doctor smothering his patients with radical loving care right before stuffing them into the MRI machine couldn't be entirely accurate.

Whatever "radical loving care" is, apparently he demonstrates it, and demonstrates it well.

And if you thought this was his first stint as Physician of the Month...well, you'd be Frank Lloyd Wrong.

feel free to stick around, springtime. I love alliteration.

2011-04-16T23:34:00.000-07:00

Now if you'll excuse me while I carpe my diem.

sunny with a chance of sunny

2011-03-28T14:39:00.000-07:00

health care reform

2011-02-22T22:59:00.000-08:00

Enjoy this awkward text between my BIL Howard and another medical professional.

I know I did.

thanks, auto spell check.

uncle.

2011-02-22T22:38:00.000-08:00

You win, Influenza B. We give up. We're broken down.

My poor Jax is on his 7th day of misery. Everyone but McFlorence Nightengale has it. I'm sensing that he's getting a little weary of managing the entire household and attending to us whiny sickies. We're a lot of work.

Thanks to the friends who have brought in meals (thx Dalee and Tiff/Janie) and thanks to friends who have offered to bring me everything from magazines to Vitamin D capsules to Sonic Cherry Limeades. So kind. Honestly.

Anybody who will kindly shoot me in the upper-left flank with a big-game tranquilizer gun will receive some free barf bags [featured below].

So very miserable am I.

Tamiflu? Give me a break. They may as well give me a bag of Skittles and tell me to take two and see if they help. Not working.

[ergonomically designed vomit bags {pilfered from ER sometime in '09} modeled by my ellison. I actually gave some to friends for christmas this year--they'll thank me later]

almost ready

2011-02-13T22:49:00.000-08:00

My Caroline (now in the refusing-to-be-photographed-stage) is getting to be quite the crafty little bugger. Probably gets it from that krafty mother of hers...
[push "snickering under breath" button on computer]

Conversely, my Charlotte just prefers to tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape. And tape.

My girls looking through the sooper-cool National Geographic photography coffee table book that I got for Christmas from Marco. (POLO!)
Seriously stunning photos.

They paused extra long to gawk at the photos of the African women in Namibia/Gambia/Mozambique with their bubs on display.
Ellison immediately dubbed the photos "inapwopwiate".
Yet still she gawked on.

Charlotte picked her nose a little.

And finally, Jackson's perfect valentine sentiment.

sure did have fun

2011-02-13T22:30:00.000-08:00

Unfortch, it was only for one night, instead of our originally planned TWO nights.

You see, I had to have my entire big toenail cruelly yet mercifully yanked by my pod[ihateyou]atrist.

Which rendered me essentially lame.

It hurt like stink.

But--you know me--I suffered through the weekend at a five star resort with aplomb and grace. We met our friends the Hoffmans for dinner here for some serious French food.

a new years resolution [or two]

2011-01-28T16:16:00.000-08:00

{like whisking McBurntOut away to this place this weekend, for example}

a few reasons why i bother:

2011-01-10T23:08:00.000-08:00

{photos courtesy of Cathy Jones}

P.S. I saw True Grit twice this weekend

Should I title this post: "Forget it" or "Why do I even bother?"

2010-12-21T23:07:00.000-08:00

[photos courtesy of my dear friend Cathy Jones]

merry christmas, anyhow.

a public apology on the blogisphere

2010-12-20T23:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Evie B, I apologize for branding you a liar in my last post.

I made the darling crayola wreaths you depicted on your blog, and they were dang cute. The teachers appropriately fawned over them. The students we walked past on the way to the classroom stared. The school nurse gave adequate adulation. The secretaries raved.

My daughters were class heroes.

I was finally that mom. For a day.

[That mom I'd wanted to throttle just yesterday].

I see how this could have taken you only 20 minutes total, Evie B., and maybe even cost you only five bucks.

Unfortunately they were out of foam wreaths at the Dollar Tree, and I wanted to use more than just the primary color crayons. I didn't really have any material I liked (that I could find in my randomly squirred away craft piles in various cabinets, at least).

My cost ended up being around $10 per wreath, which was still jim dandy, if you ask me.

I stayed up until 2:00am making these wreaths.

Something about the mindless task of hot glue gunning 137 crayons approximately 3 millimeters apart each was strangely calming.

I experienced a glimpse of spiritual clarity and elusive inner peace while listening to my MoTab christmas music in the crystal chill of the night.

I mentally stacked up my blessings.

I also ruined my gel nails, and my second degree burns are healing nicely.

There were pockets of sheer exhaustion--sure.  Occasional lapses into puddles of delirium.

For instance: I remember being spurred on by the unfettered delusion that I would be hoisted up onto the shoulders of the students/teachers alike after presenting this glorious rainbow of delight to the teacher...a la Ralphie in "A Christmas Story".

This kept me right on gluegunning.

Plus I decided I like my wreaths just a leetle better than yours, Evie B. I only gooped together one big fabric flower per wreath [held together by 17 pounds of glue], and I did not use pinking shears but I plan to look them up in the dictionary soon.

Total time spent on project: 2 hours and 27 minutes.

Don't hate me because I'm crafty.

what I would LIKE to make my kids' teachers...

2010-12-15T21:32:00.000-08:00

(photo/idea credit to Evie B.)

And what they will likely get. {again}.

The time I might have spent today ~~making~~ ruining these nifty crayon wreaths (I often fantasize about being that crafty mom) was instead spent finding the perfect jeggings (jeans/leggings) for Ellison. She wallowed around on the floor this morning before school bellowing that "her pants were so small that even a squirrel wouldn't fit into them!!"

[I did shrink them].

[And I did appreciate the rodent in jeggings imagery].

That's OK. The mom who made the wreath claimed it only cost $5.00 total and it only took her 20 minutes, which is a big fat lie.

Off to Target.

idle chatter at Costco

2010-11-29T21:01:00.000-08:00

Me: "Hop in the cart, Puffy, let's see if they still have any garland." (they didn't).

Puffy: "Mom, vampires don't like garland."

longest halloween ever

2010-10-31T23:46:00.000-07:00

I kinda got tired of Halloween lasting for four days this year.

diary of a gimpy kid

2010-09-22T14:26:00.000-07:00

2010-09-12T13:22:00.000-07:00

This photo was taken in September 2001. Our morning started in the usual fashion, with me resisting waking up and the kids watching Barney on TV. I lounged on the couch and contemplated any semblance of productivity in the day ahead. I got a call from Cindy Zielke (a woman in my ward) telling me to turn on the TV. The kids protested my changing the channel with incessant whining, but soon wandered/crawled around carte blanche while I tried to internalize the chaos I saw on almost every channel. Like every other person in the world I couldn't stop watching.

Trying to make any sense of the insanity, I called my brother John who worked in San Francisco for United Airlines and he told me that there were still other United Airlines planes yet unaccounted for.

Then the plane hit the Pentagon. How could anything breech the very symbol of the entire United States Military? I was terrified and called my mom crying. "Mom, they got the Pentagon!" This confirmed that no target was off-limits, and I was consumed with panic. We lived 15 minutes away from Fort Hood, TX, the biggest army base in the United States--what would preclude them from targeting that, too? We went outside and I paced around on the phone in the parking lot while the kids played in the grass and my mom calmed me down and we talked for a long time. Any real sense of security I felt before had been shattered.

Marc had just started an internal medicine rotation. I paged him and he was finally able to call me back. I begged him to come home to the kids and I. He really didn't even have details of what was going on, since obviously people kept continuing to need medical care even though the country was falling apart. No sitting in front of the TVs for these interns. He said there was no way he could come home but would call me back soon.

After a complete over-saturation of TV coverage, I remember finding solace in subsequent episodes of Barney, Bob the Builder, and Dora that day, holding my two babies close and praying for the people whose lives had changed forever, including ours.

2010-09-11T16:30:00.000-07:00

We had just moved to Temple, Texas, north of Austin. Marc was just starting his five year radiology residency at Scott and White Hospital. I was a young mother with two babies in a new apartment in Belton, [Chappell Oaks Apartments, I think].

I had just quit my job as a pharmaceutical sales rep with TAP Pharmaceuticals in Tucson because we had moved and was transitioning into my stay-at-home-mom role. I was lonely and hadn't established any friendships yet (but was starting a great one with Becky). I didn't know any of our neighbors yet. The bishop of our new ward (church congregation) and his wife had already been over to visit us and see how we were doing. I still love that Bishop and Julie Atwood for that warm welcome that I desperately needed.

I have a degree in International Relations from BYU. Which means I took many classes on geopolitics, geography, international policy, and my favorite, Terrorism 301. I was (and still am) fascinated by all the factions of global terrorists. This also meant that I obsessed occasionally over whether or not my life would ever be impacted by extremists whose goal is to saturate and debilitate a society with terror. Spending a semester in Madrid, Spain, opened my eyes to the power of the Basque Separatist terrorist organization, (called ETA) because my roommates were all Basque girls from Northern Spain.

To be continued...

the retro peach room

2010-09-09T22:44:00.000-07:00

This is clearly AFTER. Camilla Wright striked (striken? stroke? struck? has striked?) again. After a year of paralyzing indecision, guru Cami came on board and we had way more fun than we should have decorating the little girls' room. (maybe more fun than McWhatAboutRetirement? claimed we should).

The color palette was inspired by the Martha Stewart tissue paper hanging pom poms (in the corner over the bed) that I used for Ellison's birthday party. Why couldn't I use nudes, pinks, and corals together? With three girls I was getting a little weary of pink everything, so the neutral yet feminine wall color {Dunn Edwards Retro Peach}was the perfect jumping off point.

Cami recovered the cushion of this chair that we found at a retro store in Phoenix. I like a mix of different colored woods in a room.

The girls love it. As well they should. They'll grow into it, too, since it's not a "themed" room, so to speak.

My SIL Ashley turned me on to this bookcase. The girls can see the COVERS of all their books, not just the spines. It holds like 300 books--best purchase EVER. It came from an educational supply catalog that supplies school classrooms with bookcases.

This dark wood "whatnot" shelf was a Christmas gift from my dear Hoopes grandparents when I was about 10. I finally absconded with it from my old room in El Centro this year. I cherish it.

Cami found this dandelion light fixture from IKEA. It's perfect and modern and you just go ahead and TRY to snap on all 200 PAPER flowers around the edges. Which is why I tipped the electrician to do it.

Ellison's birthday pom poms set the color palette for the room. I may or may not take them down soon. Dust magnets, but fun.

Cami and I chose mostly Amy Butler and Heather Bailey fabrics for the pillows, with some standard burlap and velvets for texture. If you need a cheap and FABULOUS seamstress, let me know. She's a perfectionist with over 20 years of experience. {Denise Snyder}.

The bedspreads are a standard khaki/white stripe ticking that I thought looked contemporary and neutral. I copied these bedspreads from some that I saw in a model home 3 years ago--I love how the skirt goes all the way to the floor--no need for traditional bedskirts. We'll see how they hold up....

I found these steel mini-stools at Domestic Bliss in Mesa for a bit of an industrial feel. We've had the Target table forever.

I took the doors off the closet (in Caroline's room, too), and added the curtain for more of a "dressing room" vibe.

My friend Jamie Kraus from TX sent this darling wood cube to me as a baby gift for Charlotte. Such an original keepsake.

Cami found these frames at Goodwill, antiquing, etc, and just spray painted them various colors. She found some great antique china and silver accents here and there.

This lamp is from Home Goods--I can't even express to you how much I adore Home Goods. Many of the knick-knacky things came from there as well. They have great prices and super-varied inventory.

The metal antique cream nightstand is a great contrast next to the white modern linear headboards [from West Elm]. I do love a mix of shabby-chic and modern.

The long white shelf on the left is standard IKEA fare, dressed up a tad with Anthropologie brackets underneath.

I love Charlotte's little angel watching over her--I can't help but say the prayer "Now I lay me down to sleep...."

Cami also found these fun modern Russian nesting doll prints on Etsy. Never underestimate the cool stuff on Etsy.

Eclectic. Warm. Unique. Modern.

And d.o.n.e.

i know what you did last summer

2010-09-02T23:35:00.000-07:00

Inspired by this book my friend Carol Fawson gave me (which her mom wrote), I decided before school got out that some summer goals were definitely in order. Frankly, I was surprised at how well this system worked for us.

If the kids even hinted at the "B word" {nope, not the one Ellison heard on the bus and blurted out at the dinner table}, I just scuttled them right over to their dandy summer goal sheets.

No Boredom Allowed.

The kids came up with most of their goals, but I had to put the kaibosh on a few ("get a pet lynx").

Incentives? You bet your overachieving deriere. They weren't buying my initial soliloquy on "achieving goals makes us feel proud and good about ourselves, etc etc etc etc etc" so we opted for Plan B.

Upon completion of ALL summer goals, they got to pick a family activity that we normally don't do, like bowling, laser tag, etc.   OH YES, we'll be doing a repeat of this program next summer.

My main summer goal was to stay out of the clink. Somehow I ran a yellow light (to be fair, it was a pretty flattering photo of me), somehow managed to miss driving school, and somehow just because of those two things the DMV saw fit to suspend my licence.  Boy howdy did I ever drive super carefully until I got that little plastic card reinstated [with the slightly fudged weight].

Silver Lining Alert--How many kids in the 4th grade can say they their Room Mom makes good cupcakes AND is out on bail?

Authority: 37    Karen: 0

Goals are good.

discombobulated

2010-08-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

Feeling unsettled. Missing my Caroline. She's off galavanting around with cousins in El Centro and Yuma. I'll pick her up tomorrow at halfway point--a rendezvous with my sister Sus in Dateland for the handoff. FIVE DAYS we've been without her. Everytime I walk past her [much-less-glorious-without-her] turquoise bedroom, I get a titch melancholy. Jax still claims he doesn't miss her.

I do.

because everybody loves a good before and after

2010-07-14T21:46:00.000-07:00

caroline's room.

the happiest room in the house.

thanks to my wildly talented decorator friend cami wright.

[of the wright family dynasty].

some days i fling myself onto Caroline's bed and just lay there,
lingering in aqua blue bliss.

We (only me, actually) wanted to incorporate Caroline's great-grandma Stoker's chair in the room. McSlightlyHorrified found one of grandma's old knee-high stockings between the cushions.

He's over it now.

photos courtesy of Cathy Jones

happy mother's day

2010-05-09T00:26:00.000-07:00

Lulu Belle's Animal Haven

2010-04-14T21:59:00.000-07:00

I can handle the dry-erase markers on my walls and the new ottoman.

I can handle the stealthy intrusion into my purse for a quick raid of my MAC Viva Glam lipstick. (plus a detour to the bandaid-rich zipper pouch of my purse).

I can even handle the minor infraction of an entire gallon of milk spilled, well, everywhere.

Note how she blithely continues eating her cracked wheat while the milk drips into the entire surface area of my kitchen. Naturally I blame myself for leaving the milk out.

But the urination pitstop on top of the drawers in the closet?

[narrowly avoiding Caroline's Minnie Mouse ears]

This blatant disregard for common decency almost bought Charlotte a one-way Greyhound ticket straight to Lulu Belle's Animal Shelter in beautiful Brawley, CA.

My dad used to threaten to send us there when he was fed up with us, and now my sisters and I throw this empty threat around on especially challenging days.

It was fortuitous for my little Puffy Sue that I had even a shred of perspective this week (thanks, General Conference!), and opted instead for some innocuous and probably meaningless time-outs. She's lucky I grabbed the camera and not the switch.

{Insert exhaustion}.

it's never too late for April Fool's pranks

2010-04-14T20:24:00.000-07:00

Marc got in his car last Thursday, as per usual, to drive to work at around 7:30am. Halfway down the driveway, Caroline popped up from the backseat in her pjs and scared the living McFreak out of him.

She came into my room and woke me up to tell me what she'd done, [all pert and proud], and for the ~~first~~ second time in the history of my life, I woke up laughing.

happy birthday, McSweets

2010-04-14T20:09:00.000-07:00

This Guy

2010-03-11T22:57:00.001-08:00

Nope, it's not Jackson's birthday.

It's just that poor old Jax never gets any airtime on the blog.

{Except perhaps in an occasional cameo as a foster child}.

Case in point--I never even posted about his killer laser tag birthday party from last May.

I also bet you didn't know that his basketball team won the championship game for their age division in the Phoenix Suns arena. Of course you didn't.

Occasionally he'll read my blog or have suggestions as to what I should put on it.

THIS post was his idea. THIS post was NOT his idea.

Tonight I was browsing through hundreds of photo files and was struck by these handsome photos of my only son.

The son who makes his bed first thing every single morning without being asked or threatened.

(his sisters don't).

He is so good to his sisters when some days

he has every excuse to give them a sound wholloping.
He is usually drowning in a sea of girlish drama.
Trademark quote: "Good thing I got dear old dad."

His sense of humor is dry.
He is a sports nut. (like his dad).
He wants to play college football. (like his dad).
He has awesome Tobler ears. (like his dad).
He plays a mean piano and baritone.

His heart is kind and good.
Now I am sounding like a certain aunt who we used to make fun of for bragging about her kids ad nauseum.
Too bad.
No apologies.

Lucky to know this guy.

confessional

2010-03-07T22:26:00.000-08:00

I may or may not have slightly played up a recent sinus infection so I could justify abdicating my duties as a parent to read in bed all day. I drove Charlotte to preschool in my bathrobe.

To be fair, the day started with a sinus headache that hurt like stink. I had the good doctor call in a z-pak. I was just yucked-up enough to not be totally miserable, yet not feeling sprightly enough to feel like doing anything productive. I love self-mandated bedrest for a day.

lovely.

now that's what I call a stimulus package

2010-03-07T21:36:00.000-08:00

a love litmus test:

Driving down the strip in Las Vegas.

a two-night getaway.

I see BARRY MANILOW flashing on the marquis sign.
A neon beacon.

I whip my head around to make sure it wasn't a mirage.

I think I might need the paddles. Heartrate stabilizes.

I tell McHopingIDidn'tSeeTheSign that I'm embarrassed at how excited I feel.

At the mere prospect of singing along to "Mandy".
Or whistling the intro to "Can't Smile Without You."
I honestly don't know what it is about that androgynous sap that I love so much.
I just know that I love him.

All at once, my entire Junior High choreography/lip synch career rewinds into vivid memory.

Betsy's dad's huge video camera capturing hours of various "dance" versions of Copacabana on horrifying video.

I got the "go ahead" resigned look.
Proof positive that he loves me.

We call for tix.

Sold out.

{Except for the $390 per seat scalped tix}.

Spit.

Marc was secretly relieved to retain his masculinity. And basic self-respect.

No having to endure the taunts of my brothers.
The same brothers (most likely Gavin) who scratched my Barry Manilow ONE VOICE album with a car key.
Rendering it unplayable on my Sanyo turntable.
[The desired result.]

That's OK . I've been promised a trip back to Vegas soon.

Just for Barry.

happy ending

2010-02-12T07:47:00.000-08:00

Marc hinted that he thought it was slightly unhealthy the way I was obsessed with baby Bronson's story. Actually he outright said it. What I explained to him was that every mother who read this story is deeply impacted by it because we have all taken unnecessary risks with our children and NOT had a tragic outcome. We could somehow relate to this mother, and her subsequent guilt for leaving her children in the bathtub to go get pjs for another child (or whatever we've chosen to do instead).

Miraculously, this ending was a happy, albeit unlikely one. Read here for the follow-up story. Can't find the appropriate words to type that express how relieved I am for this mother.

rocked to the core

2010-02-10T23:57:00.000-08:00

Today I promised myself (again) that I would not be distracted by trivial things. I will try to listen to my kids more and embrace them and trace their faces with my fingertips at night when they are asleep.

Sometimes we get second chances to love and hold our kids. Sometimes we don't. This is Sara's story about second chances. (Sara is a neighbor of my friend Rachelle Szymanski who lives in Provo, UT.)

Seventh Sin (gluttony) on the Sabbath. At least we were watching some "Saints" play...

2010-02-10T13:52:00.001-08:00

2010-01-25T12:38:00.000-08:00

"The Worst Natural Disaster in the Western Hemisphere..."

Headlines like these and their accompanying images of hopelessness and misery in Haiti continue to be stupefyingly tragic.

Just one thought of my Jackson or Caroline or Ellison or Charlotte wandering the streets hungry, thirsty, crying, bleeding, freaked-out, or lonely sends me into an

insomniatic tailspin. I'm a haggard wreck.

At 2:00am I am wondering what desperate Haitian voodoo prayers are being uttered.

(98% of Haitians practice some form of voodoo...very interesting...I'm Wikipedia-ing it right now).

At 2:30am I wonder why basic supplies of food, water, medicine, aren't reaching the general population.

I silently obsess over the logistical nightmares.

When my kids are thirsty, I get them water. Almost immediately.

When they are hungry, they get food. Always.

While I believe that God's Plan of Salvation does not exempt

mankind from natural and physical laws and truths, it doesn't

make the idea of intense human suffering any more palatable.

Conversely, the compassion and charity shown by our fellowmen from

around the world to this beat-down country has been

miraculous and inspiring.

My friend Lonni has some interesting insights on Haiti, as

she spent some time there investigating some "death scams" when she worked for CBS.

Read her story and see some unbelieveable photos HERE.

This image below is particularly haunting.

(photo courtesy of Lonni's blog, taken in 1998)

Caroline and her pals Brooklyn and O'Reilly hosted a bake sale--$13.40 raised.$13.40 donated.

A few days later, humanitarian hygiene kits were assembled in our garage. Neighbors and friends flocked over to help assemble them and donated many of the items. The Dollar Store carries every item for these hygiene kits (soap, hand towels, toothbrushes, combs, toothpaste). I can't imagine what it would be like to not have access to a toothbrush or comb for weeks.
[My kids can].

Click here for information on making humanitarian hygiene kits.

your basic antics

2010-01-18T23:12:00.000-08:00

We were given a rental minivan while our car was in the shop for some bodywork (not my fault this time). When I was body wrestling Charlotte into her carseat, which I'm too old for, by the way, she was hollering that she didn't want a minivan.

Come to find out she wanted a mickeyvan.

Oh, and I also appreciated this one, courtesy of McPracticality:

"Kids! Get outside and entertain yourselves! Why do you think we had four kids?"

good one, babe.

::a touching sand dunes vignette::

2010-01-14T23:57:00.000-08:00

[to this my sister Susan would retort defiantly:

"Oh, it's been broughten!"]

Tobler Family Photo Shoot, Take 2

2009-12-26T22:58:00.001-08:00

I really should send out my Christmas cards. But I haven't ordered them yet. I was disappointed in Shutterfly's "Merry Martin Luther King Jr. Day" card selection. Because that's probably when I'll get around to mailing them, sometime in late January--Flag Day in June at the absolute latest. At what point is it just tacky to send out holiday cards?

Now off to E.C. to spend some quality time with the Hoopes Troops...

McQuippy says I had this photo taken of our feet expressly to show off my favorite shoes.

That man has me all figured out.

and the "Best Gift Award" goes to....

2009-12-26T22:45:00.000-08:00

Caroline! [to her doting father].

Runner Up.....Santa!

[For this bad-to-the-bone rickshaw trike.

Made in China or India, appropriately].

Yak not included.

what are the odds?

2009-12-26T22:42:00.000-08:00

This one goin out to jolly old St. Nicholas--

If I could have a horrific stomach flu ANY OTHER NIGHT OF THE YEAR besides Christmas Eve next year, it would be sheer fabulosity.

love,
karen

p.s. thanx for the Bose ipod docking station

the world according to caroline

2009-12-07T14:19:00.000-08:00

[5-year old daughter Ellison:]

"Mom, Caroline says if I don't obey her she'll

tell them to lock me up in jubi."

I don't know who "them" is.

How Caroline became the resident expert on

juvenile detention centers

still remains a mystery.

Probably just typical 3rd grade water cooler fodder...

it's still happy

2009-12-01T20:56:00.000-08:00

Just got back from here...

[this was taken last year]

where Caroline did a little of this...

and this...

with the Wright family entertainment dynasty.

(cousins Jenee Wright Prince and Ivan Prince)

We were also lucky enough to have a grandma, a grandpa, an aunt, an uncle, and a little cousin from the Tobler side along for good luck charms...photos to come!

Her

2009-11-16T23:55:00.000-08:00

{Grandma and Grandpa Stoker, c.1980s)

My Grandma Randall Sirrine Stoker died one year ago. Lately I've been remembering things she said to me that likely altered the course of my life. At least my life with Marc.

Example: She encouraged me to move beyond some 5th grade-style attitudes of pettiness my girlfriends and I had concerning the dating scene (and eachother). I was made to feel like I couldn't like or date anybody that any of my friends had ever liked or dated, which left about three men in the dating pool, all hopeless twits.

True Tidbit: The Mormon dating pool is just not that big when you're 29. Frankly, I was also quite complacent just going out to dinner and the movies every weekend with my roommates Michelle and Kristi, and occasionally going to some singles' parties. I'm smiling as I'm typing this right now--remembering her telling me: "Well, you don't marry your friends." Grandma reminisced about her first encounter with my Grandpa Randall, who died before I was born. She went on a double date with him, although she was with his friend, and his date was another girl. It was as if she were giving me permission to just go for Marc. Even though McLadiesMan had "dated" one of my former roomates, who remains one of my good friends today.

So I did just go for it.

My grandma was widowed three times. She grew up in the Great Depression and she struggled with some rare health issues. Her trials galvanized her strong spirit and her faith. How will I teach my daughters charity, compassion, and unwaivering faith that comes mostly from enduring hardship and sacrifice? Our world today is one of such ease and comfort.

Her white halo of hair literally made her face radiate with light. "How is life in your world?" was her trademark question, regardless of how she herself was feeling.

My Senior year in high school I needed a dress for a formal dance. I can't remember if I found the black crepe dress rummaging around in my mom's closet, or if my mom offered me the dress to wear, but I ended up wearing my Grandma Stoker's black dress with shoulder-to-floor rhinestone buttons down the side [and some gargantuan shoulder pads] from the 1940s. Not even one alteration was needed. The rhinestone buttons on the shoulder had fallen off, and we didn't have time to sew them on {or they were lost}. I felt like a million bucks. Although I felt like I lacked her grace and class, it was perfect.

Senior year 1986. Me wearing the same dress she wore in the 1940s.

{Thanks Aunt Jane for helping me find the photo of THE dress.}

Gravitas

2009-11-06T21:15:00.000-08:00

General Conference weekend.* Not all my days can be filled with pithy fun and fluff. Some days it's necessary to re-focus on the unwavering truths of life and our existence here on earth. Cousin Alice's five kids came to "camp out" for a couple of days [while they were off backpacking somewhere remote]. We were schooled in the art of Extreme Fort Building. Nine kids mulled about crafting various nests and hideouts for themselves.

These were powerful messages of hope, charity, and faith. To edify and recommit my mind and soul. And detox myself from the cynic I don't want to become. A rescue of sorts from my usual jaded self. Elder Holland's profound testimony of the Book of Mormon was among my favorites. Here are some highlights from several of the talks.

*General Conference is a bi-annual occurence wherein a living prophet and the twelve living apostles, as well as other men and women, deliver inspired messages about Jesus Christ. It is broadcast worldwide from Salt Lake City. It is interesting to note that these men/women are not paid/professional clergy. They are people who did not seek their callings, but who were plucked from their various professions as lawyers, surgeons, farmers, military personnel, pilots, engineers, etc., to tirelessly testify of the Living Christ, to all nations, kindreds, tongues, and peoples, much like the apostles of Biblical times.

2009-10-31T23:32:00.000-07:00

All credit for me having a freaking amazing costume this year goes to the ol' sister Susan, who let me loot her costume bin(s). Seriously, that spider hat of mine was wicked, indeed.

{Ellison tormented by her itchy witch costume}

indian summer

2009-09-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

more peaches

2009-09-24T22:48:00.000-07:00

Day 8: CALLANETICS. Old school. An ex-ballerina named Callan Pinckney developed these exercises like a millenium ago. My high school girlfriends and I still make fun of the way she describes the "perfect little peach" one will attain by doing ballet-like moves. Whatever, dude.

Callan and I have quite a history. I have fond memories of doing CALLANETICS with my cousin Marilyn Oveson my Freshman year at BYU. I was battling the "Freshman 10" {and severe loneliness} and she was newly married with a new baby. I'd go over to her little newlywed house right off campus and we'd move our limbs ever-so-slightly "one-half inch" here and there. They really do tone you up quickly if you do them right. My mom still does these DVDs (actually I think they are VHS videos) and she looks like a million bucks.

Day 9: Cardio Kick Boxing. This class was extremely enjoyable. Mostly because my instructor looked and moved like Fergie. I'd never done a kick-boxing class before. New adventures people! This was the perfect mix of dance and boxing moves. I'll be going back to this little Monday morning gig.

Day 10: With my newly perceived coordination, I opted to try a class called "The Mixx" today. Taught by my new favorite instructor, Fergie. I showed up a little late and peered through the window in Studio 1. The slick moves I'd semi-mastered in Sparteens [my high school drill team] were no match for Fergie's Funk-A-Thon. I just couldn't bring myself to go in there. What a copout! I'm not intimidated by too many things, but I slunk away and be-bopped right on over to the Stairmaster instead. I lasted about 2 minutes on that puppy before I gave up entirely and drove to my alma mater, Dunkin Donuts. I was tempted to, at least. But I stuck it out on the treadmill. Two pounds lost!

I will be checking out the full-blown BOOT CAMP tomorrow. Variety. Accountability. We'll see.

Molly Mormon

2009-09-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

One may or may not be a stereotypical 40+ Mormon woman when:

*one begs one's sister Sus to haul her new Nutrimill wheat grinder over from Yuma so one can test it out on a new whole wheat bread recipe [ours came out more like biscotti. hard and flat].

*one begs long-suffering friend Molly (yes, Molly the Mormon) to come over and teach one how to can some of the 298756538 peaches one needs to use in the next 24 hours. A veritable Chinese army of peaches was canned (or bottled, technically).

*one begs friend Sarah C. to come over and make peach freezer jam with the remaining 38746 peaches. (it didn't set up--anybody need peach syrup? free shipping.) Next time one will use my cousin Molly's "use extra pectin powder" tip. [Cousin Molly not to be confused with Canning Molly.]

*one makes a killer peachy-keen cobbler recipe courtesy of Texas pal Patrice H. (made it four times)

*one signs up for pal Natalie's quilting courses.

*one is slightly obsessed with food storage.

*one is asked by a certain McSmartAleck when they turned 74 years old. No cobbler for you.

a room with a view

2009-09-15T21:28:00.000-07:00

{this was the view from my bed when I woke up this morning}

2009-09-14T18:13:00.000-07:00

Day 8: Quite strenuous hike at Tonto Natural Bridge. [more on that later]. We went camping with Marc's cousins Michael and Alice this weekend [more on that later].

We've been a little laid up around here with some sort of insidious stomach thing. Everybody but Marc and Caroline has had it. (thus far). Needless to say, there hasn't been a whole lot of exercising going on around here, unless my exercise in futility counts.

Now--what in the Sam Hill am I going to do with all these peaches?

Fitness Comittment Update

2009-09-08T12:45:00.000-07:00

Friday, Day 5: Spinning Class. It's crucial to have good music with a strong beat in spinning class. I can do anything to a rhythm for awhile. I love a good spinning class. This one had excellent music, a lot of 80s.

Saturday, Day 6: Susan (my sis) came into town from Yuma and we needed a break from our kids (eight total) so we loaded them into the car(s) and took them to the gym so we could have an uninterrupted conversation on the treadmills. This wasn't a repeat for me, since I wasn't running. I would call it power-walking with a steep incline. Susan might call it tripping on the treadmill every 10 steps.

Tuesday, Day 7: Vinyasa Flow Yoga. Adore is too tame a word to describe my feelings for yoga. Especially the group nap at the end with my new best friends/yoga homies under the guise of "breathing exercises". Little Miss-Contortionist-Yogi-Chick-Teacher got a little persnickety when I didn't want to wake up after class was over. I wanted to remind her in a gentle, Zen-like fashion that child care is for two hours in this gym, and that I still had one hour left before I had to pick up Charlotte [who wore her Cinderella getup to the gym today]. But I left before she called security.

McThrewHisBackOutLastWeek would be proud that I'm maximizing my gym membership.

This is going great! I do enjoy mixing it up a bit. Off to prep my Isagenix protein shake...

Favorite Photos of August

2009-09-04T22:06:00.000-07:00

{ Above: Cousin Lorin aka Lolo}

{Above: Cousin Bridgette}

Heaven help me

2009-09-04T21:51:00.000-07:00

and

equals these.

Luckily these were from last week's bake-off.

Recipe available upon request. Because I kinda don't want to get up and get it right now.

skinny genes and skinny jeans

2009-09-03T13:10:00.000-07:00

I only vent about my vexxing struggles with the scale maybe once, twice per year. [Eighteen times tops]. I don't like to dwell on the topic, and frankly it's boring. But sometimes it's like trying to avoid the elephant in the room {pun intended}.

It's been a fantastic summer. When you adopt laissez-faire eating habits, it's always a fantastic summer. As a direct result, my adipose cells proliferated faster than nukes under the Reagan Administration.

How could I have gone from "tri" to "pie" in three months flat? I'll tell ya how. My summer wardrobe of maxi-dresses and elastic waist flouncy skirts left me utterly unaccountable for my expanding waist-line (hey it still fits!) Baking in the kitchen almost daily didn't do me any favors, either. I just can't have that stuff around the house.

I always need some kind of ridiculous gimmick to jump start things. I tried the HcG diet for a few days but seemed to get stuck on the "load" days and never got around to the 500 calorie per day part. So I'm copying this idea from a friend. I'll do something NEW every day for 10 days. NO REPEATS.

Monday, day 1: I laboured on the elliptical.

Tuesday, day 2: Floor Pilates. Can't wait to try the Reformer.

Wednesday, day 3: sick kid at home. nada.

Thursday: day 4: ran on the treadmill. Literal tears of boredom running down my face.

open to ideas.

Gift Du Jour

2009-08-22T12:07:00.000-07:00

the cold hard stats:

Every Mormon chick in the western hemisphere owns a glue gun and feels compelled to goop together bows, flowers, clips, and small gardens on top of their babies' heads.

the Dilemma:

No darling spot to showcase the fruits of their glue-gunning.

Enter these little doo-hickeys.

Handmade by the ever-talented friend patty.

$15 for a custom made bow holder?

please.

Limitless fabrics and colors.

Your daughter might be getting one from us.

{Sorry if I ruined the surprise}

Oh, and Patty-Bob, I need some more.

I'm out.

28th Summer

2009-08-18T13:03:00.000-07:00

Two Grandparents (my parents). Five children (one is me) . Nineteen grandchildren.

Several aunts and uncles from Hoopes side. Numerous cousins and second cousins.

28 consecutive years at the iconic green and white Beach Cottages.

That are like 100 years old.
Room 210 {where my parents stay} hasn't changed much since I was 13.

(Above: Cousins and a little "Eenie Meenie Minie Mo")

Above: Aunt Nancy Killian and sis Megan parasailing. We also went with Aunt Cindy, cousins Beth, Bree, & Sarah, Sisters Meg and Sus, nieces Madeline, my Jax and Caroline, and my mom. My only regret is that I didn't smuggle a camera in my shirt pocket somehow to get some shots from the bird's eye view. It was so peaceful and surprisingly silent that high above the ocean. Worth every penny.

(Above: The Puffy Sue)

(Above: Caroline and I parasailing)

(Above: Bro Gav and SIL Ashley)

(Above: BIL Howard and Sis Susan)

They got rich finding all the Rolex watches and authentic Spanish gold dubloons with their metal detector.

(Above: Mom and Dad)

(Above: My Ellison)

(Above: Beautiful Sis Megan)

(Above: Jax and my mom)

(Above: My mom and Jax paragliding)

(Above: Dad)

(Above: Jax and Sammy)

(Above: Ale and Caroline @ San Diego Temple)

(Above: Jax, cousin Dalton, and Caroline in Surf Camp)

(Above: Cousins Dalton, Jeffrey, and Jax zoning out on Sunday afternoon)

Slurp it on Blurb

2009-08-13T10:18:00.000-07:00

If you are on the fence about transferring your blog posts to a tangible hardcover book, DO IT.

It's called slurping your blog. It's how I justify blogging these days. At least my posterity will have something of perceived wit and self-aggrandizing charm from their Great Great Great Grandma Karen Louise Hoopes Tobler. Either that or they will think I was some useless fluffhead.

I would have loved to know more of my ancestors' insights/perspectives/challenges/thoughts. About anything.

McFullOfSurprises slurped my blog for Mother's Day. Love that guy. He and sidekick Jax had a great time choosing the posts and photos for it. I love the format, and the weight/quality of the paper is heavy. first class. I have no idea how they actually did it, but there's more info here.

Charlotte needed very little convincing as to the wit/charm of her mother.

Schoolhouse Rock

2009-08-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

My sister Susan answered the phone this morning with a resounding "Woo Hoo!" And it was loud and hurt my ear. School had apparently started in Yuma, too.

I found myself cheerfully whistling "Conjunction, junction, what's your function?" all morning. Yeah, I know what your function is, alright.

To keep my kids happily learning all day so I can catch a nap and perhaps run get a dark chocolate Sprinkles cupcake and read a book on the couch all day! How about for one day at least?

In preparation for her elementary school debut, my darling Kindergarten girl, Ellison, lovingly laid out the outfit she would wear that first exciting day. It took me almost an hour to talk her out of the Dora pajama set she'd chosen. She's also chosen to wow the future class of 2021 with a hot pink patent leather belt--worn as a hair accessory.

Ellison's quote of the week: [after she almost had to get stitches from a head gash from a picture frame falling off the mantle onto her head Sunday]: "Mom! I get to have red highlights in my hair for kindergarten!"

From the blood.

Caroline has been very anxious for the past few days. After all, this is her third school in four years, bless her heart. I give her a week to be friends with almost everyone. After she found her teacher {who very much resembles Tipper Gore} on the playground, she stoicly whispered: "Bye mom. Your work here is done."

Dismissed by my 8 year old. Happily so, frankly. I had stuff to do!!

And I don't know how Jackson actually felt because he never verbalized much. When I asked him "How was your first day of school?" he replied "Mom, that's like my least favorite question." So I tried different angles. "Tell me your favorite thing about your first day of school." "Tell me ANYTHING about your first day of school." "Grunt if you liked your teacher." or "Blink your eyes once if you liked the hot lunch, twice if it was lame." We'll get to do our talking later tonight when I get some one-on-one time before bedtime. Fifth grade boys are awesome.

I suppose I can't blame him after the whole "Foster Child" incident.

The Back-to-School photo op was dead in the water from the get-go. Jax would rather tie a cinderblock around his neck and jump in the pool than endure such abject humiliation. The next day at the bus stop, I was thus forced to whip out the telephoto lens and strategically position myself behind large shrubs. Hey, I don't make the rules.

Lastly, I dropped my carefree Puffy Sue off at preschool, happy and ready to attack the fingerpaints/glitter/playdough that awaited her.

THE KICKER--The euphoria and freedom quickly turned to melancholy. As soon as I was sans offspring, I immediately wished I could see their sweaty little red faces again. I miss my little chickens. Think I'll get over it?

[A grand thanks to my friend natalie for showing me how to use Photobucket!]

This one's for you, lady.

2009-08-05T21:43:00.000-07:00

(Top photo: Anita, me, Lonni, Sherri and baby Charlotte, Maria [sitting], last April)

{Me and Lonni}

My pal Lonni is laid up. In the hospital. For 70 days now. On bedrest. Pregnant. Unexpectedly. At 43 years old. Enduring a trial she'd probably rather not endure. Anticipating her baby boy (she has three girls), who is currently dubbed Spartacus for his tenacity. Who will arrive via induction on Monday. I wish I could teleport myself to Boise to talk to her in person. And eat some of the desserts her friends have been bringing her in a failed attempt to get her to put on some weight. And partake of blessed "Massage Day Thursday."

My p.m. girlfriends (pre-Marc, pre-marriage, or pre-McThanksForRescuingMeFromSinglesWardPurgatory) came over today with their kids for a playdate. Stacy, Sherri, Maria, Anita, Camille. We were talking tons about a certain conspicuously absent girlfriend. Who was laid up in a hospital somewhere in Boise. Maria even tried to call this girl Lonni so we could all reminisce a tad. (she was probably off galavanting around at her 75th ultrasound).

After they left, I was musing about the many things that we women have collectively gone through since becoming friends almost 15 years ago: marriages, divorce, miscarriages, infertility, adoption, years of schooling, loss of employment, physical ailments, surgeries, loss of a parent, disappointment, financial hardships, many moves across the country, agonizing over which school to send our children to, the joy of our children. We don't get together often, yet when we do, it's as if not a day has passed. We pick up right where we left off.

I practically begged my friends not to leave today. Stay a little while longer. I was just starting to get caught up over Diet Coke, deviled eggs, hummus, Sherri's cream cheese pineapple bars, and pigs in a blanket, but alas, naptimes and whines ultimately trumped adult conversation.

On an entirely unrelated tangent, it's entertaining to note that every single one of this group of girlfriends got married in our thirties (OK I was 29), which is like 72 years old in Mormon Girl years, or 11 years in dog years. We are all older moms, and occasionally find ourselves lost in a sea of stereotypical 25-year old energetic Barbie-esque moms at our childrens' schools. I get tired just watching them hop their lithe little top-heavy bodies into their Hummers with lift kits. Ho hum. [bitter spell is...over].

Our experiences weave a strong and unbreakable cord of commonality among us "vintage moms".

Random memories:

I was always impressed that Lonni was an investigative reporter for NBC (?) I loved hearing through the grapevine about her stories/stings/undercover stuff she was working on. Very Nancy Drew. For example, going down to Haiti (?) to blow some scam wide open about people faking their deaths and buying a body to bury and somehow pocketing the life insurance. I probably jacked up every detail about that story.

Lonni threw a birthday party at Anita's house for Teresa R. This is where I first met McDidn'tKnowHowLuckyHe'dTurnOutToBe.

I was insanely jealous of Lonni at Rebecca Reese's birthday party at Rosa's Mexican Cantina because she platonically leaned over and smelled Marc's aftershave at the table the night I set my sights on him. I almost beat her up.

Lonni hosted a ton of people (including my SIL Maren who wasn't my SIL Maren at the time) at her parent's house in Vegas one New Year's Eve, circa 1996.

Beautiful tall blonde Lonni.

With squawky hair.

We love ya, girl. I miss you. Can't get you off our minds. We're worried with you about your impending blessing/challenge/adventures.

Now if this video clip doesn't cheer you up a smidge, I got nothin'.

If at first you don't [or do] succeed...

2009-07-15T14:31:00.000-07:00

Tri, tri again. Last year I suffered through a highly-overrated regimented training process for the SHEROX "Sprint" {800 m swim/13 mi bike/5K--like anybody sprints that} Triathlon in Tempe. This year, not too much! I was surprised that I even finished the race. But I managed. I hollered at Megan so much during the run that she finally waited for me and we crossed the finish line together. That was the fantasy that I'd had in my head. To finish with one of my sisters.

Disclaimer: Megan had a head start on me because they started her heat (age 35-39) before mine (the awesome 40-45 year old heat). She kicked my bootay in the bike, though.

This tri was way more fun--(if sweating yourself to oblivion can be considered "fun"). Maybe because I had my two sisters [Megan and Susan] and SIL Maren along for the gig. Maybe because I had such low expectations? Maybe because I had nothing to prove this time. Maybe because I knew what to expect since this was my 2nd tri.

Nobody looks good in a swim cap. No one. Ever.

Some things I had to think about to keep me from repeating last year's panic attack(s) in the water: the Kentucky Derby, for one. [was anyone else inspired at how the underdog $7,000 horse with a hick of an owner beat the million dollar thoroughbreds owned by all the Saudis?] I also kept thinking about how I really shouldn't even be here because I hadn't trained very much, and how lucky I felt to be with my sisters and how proud I was of my sisters and then I got a little choked up and had to get it together and then I thought about my rhythm of strokes and breathing, and so on, so on. I even managed to notice the blueness of the sky and the airplanes overhead during my breaths. This was my stream of conscienceness. The water was nastily fetid.

{the woman above swimming on her back deserves some kudos--I did my fair share of breast stroke to catch my breath. Swimming in Tempe Town Lake takes some grit.}

I'm pretty sure my "twin" subsequently filed a restraining order against McDon'tEvenKnowWhoMyWifeIs for taking 300 close-up shots of her.

Megan and her kids, Deven and Jeffrey. (above)

Over. Till next year?