The Preston Plague

For the grand finale of our two-week vacation, we went to Grandma and Grandpa's cabin in Idaho.  It was relaxing and wonderful...for a few hours.  This look on Jakey's face was the first foreshadowing that the Preston Parade wasn't going to go all that well.  It started out with hot foreheads all around and ended up with me crouched on the ground in "child's pose" retching into the weeds halfway between Logan and Brigham City.  And I wasn't the only one who cut their trip short due to the Preston Plague.  Quite a few of us headed home early, carrying buckets.

The whole parade was a blur of flying taffy and trips to the Arctic Circle bathroom.  That's the bad news.  The good news is that somewhere in the midst of all that revelry, The Best Dad in the World got suckered into buying a bargain puppy for the kids!  Normally, buying a puppy is ranks at the bottom of Scott's to-do list, right under having his fingernails pulled out with pliers.  But there was something about little "Preston Marigold Cutie Ellison Scotty Dopp's" face that made him fall in love a little bit.  I think it was the way she batted her ginger-colored eyelashes and snuggled up to Scott's chest.  Or maybe it was Ruby's look of benevolent pleading.  At any rate, Scott said there was no way he was ever going to buy a puppy, then waved me on ahead with the kids.  Freestone and I, on a mission to buy cotton candy, hid behind a tree to watch the transaction take place.  We saw Scott talk to the owner, hand her the cash and lift the puppy out of the box on the sidewalk, cradling her in his arms.  We followed him as he strode carefully down the street with a smile breaking his concentrated look.  We watched as Ruby spotted him.  Her whole body filled up with joy and she ran, carrying Ptolemy, toward Scott.  I swear, her face was glowing from the inside.  When Golda saw what was happening, she burst out in tears of happiness and covered her face.  Scott handing over the little puppy to Ruby was one of "those" moments.  His eyes were teary, but his smile was wide.  Once in awhile, there is a moment that you just have to grab, or the magic is gone.  Scott knows how to recognize those moments and go for them.  It's just one of the things that makes him a great dad.

There are other things that make Scott great, like cleaning kids' throw-up out of the car's drink holders and staying up all night with a crying puppy.  But those things aren't quite as magical!

Low Point

The careening minivan screeched to a halt at the side of the road.  A bedraggled woman with wet hair and a Janet Jackson-style wardrobe malfunction taking place jumped out of the driver's side.  She threw open the sliding door, engaged in some sort of ruckus inside the car and finally emerged, flinging a cupcake piled high with blue frosting into oncoming traffic.  As the dainty confection arced through the air, the wailing of countless angry and brokenhearted children poured out of the van's windows.  The woman threw the door shut and sped away, eyeballs wide, hands gripping the wheel.

Yes, I forgot to "put it away" after nursing Ptolemy, as anyone at the pool yesterday can probably attest.
Yes, my kids scored cupcakes poolside by loitering at a neighboring table looking hungry and neglected while the people at the table celebrated a birthday.
Yes, Freestone decided to save his cupcake to use as a weapon against Xanthe in the car.
Oh yes, she whined about it in frequencies that made dogs take cover.


But that woman by the side of the road couldn't have been me.  I'm not mean and angry and out of control.  Right?

The Blues!

We have Ari's formerly pink and brown room transformed to blue, green, aqua and turquoise, as per Ari's request. The metamorphosis included giving/throwing everything away, finding a fun curtain and ordering a new bedspread. Ari loves the new look, but now what? It needs a whole lot of je ne sais quois! Ideas???

The 24th

Josh struck a deal with the fireworks wizard. A box of fireworks in exchange for the right to put his blow-ups on the lawn of the law office. Ryan thought we should hang a sign on the wizard that said, "Felshaw." I agree.


HERE is a snippet of a pioneer song the girls sang in Sacrament meeting, at Nana's and at Grandma's house.  They worked hard on it, so it was fun to have a couple of chances to sing it for people.

As the family celebrated the 24th at Grandma and Grandpa's house, we started talking about our courtships.  Grandma jumped up and went to retrieve a big bag full of letters the boys had sent and received on their missions.  The sweetest letter was one from Ryan to Scott that said, "I'm going to prom with that hot girl in our ward, Jennie.  I can't believe she would go out with me, let alone call me her boyfriend!"  Awwww!  Golda went from being bored by the same old stories to being intrigued by the letters I had written to Scott.  It was bittersweet to revisit that time, the two years that Scott was in California on his mission and I was in college in Indiana, trying to find my way.  I wrote him at least once a week, even after I sent him the fateful "Dear John" letter.  It was a painful time in many ways, and I am still relieved to have made it through!  So many things could have gone wrong for us on the long road from high school sweethearts to engagement.  Actually, a lot of things did go wrong.  In retrospect, I wouldn't dare change a thing because all the detours and heartbreak eventually led to what I have now, which is a life that I love and the blessing of living it with Scott. 

We joke sometimes that our future children were watching us from heaven during our college years saying, "NOOOO!  Come ON, Mom!  You're supposed to end up with Scott Dopp!"  And for Scott, "Dad, tell her how you feel!  Hurry, before it's too late!" If that's the case, those little spirits must have gotten through somehow.  Jeremy reminded us that when he left on his mission (three and a half years after Scott got back from his), a renewed relationship between Scott and me wasn't even a possibility, since we had gone our separate ways.  We somehow remained friends after breaking each others' hearts, though, and when Jeremy got home, we were married.  I can only think of three decisions in my life that I knew were right:  moving back to Utah after college (instead of attending violin making school in Chicago or pursuing violin performance in Prague), marrying Scott,  and then not taking a job I had been offered at a violin shop on Staten Island after we got married.  I don't know why I have been so blessed when there were times I did everything wrong, both intentionally and through sheer stupidity, but I am so thankful to have the honor of carrying on my ancestors' legacy with Scott and all these sweet little children who must have been rooting for our success all along.  Thanks, kids.  You did it!

The Vacation is...

...Great!  The kids have had lots of time to play with friends, watch TV, play video games, watch movies, go to the pool, lie around like sea lions and essentially do whatever they want.  There is no practicing allowed and no chores to speak of.  The whole point of the break is to accomplish as little as possible.

We may be on vacation, but we managed to learn some new vocabulary today.  I taught Freestone the meaning of "copious amounts," as in, "Let's eat copious amounts of cookie dough."  Even after copious amounts were consumed, Freestone said, "I don't think I've eaten a sufficient amount of cookie dough."  Impressive vocab!  We may never learn the meaning of moderation or restraint when there's cookie dough around, but this batch was THE best cookie dough we've ever made.  Almond extract and kosher salt were the secret ingredients.

All this inactivity finally got to Scott and he fell off the wagon big time!  Friday, while the girls were stocking up on dancewear at Pat's and visiting Nana, he took Freestone on a date to Boondocks for mini golf and games. Then nabbed Ari and Xanthe for an afternoon movie (Ramona and Beezus) and finally rounded out the day by taking Golda and Ruby shopping at the Gateway and dining at Thaiphoon.  I was lounging at the pool with the other kids and kept getting texts that included pictures of the food they were eating.  After all that, Scott and I went out to dinner and Yogo Togo.  A very relaxing day!

Xanthe's Plans

Xanthe informed me that she's really going to miss me when I'm a grandma.  She agreed to visit me, though, when she has kids.  She says she's going to have six kids, just like me, and their names are going to be Johnny, Brownie, Blackie, Carrie, Pinky and Spotty.  It sounds more like a litter of puppies to me.  Hey, I like puppies.  And depending on how soon she plans to introduce Johnnie, Brownie, Blackie, Carrie, Pinky and Spotty to the family, puppies might be a better way to go than grandchildren!

Planting

I keep a book of haiku around because I like to open it at random and read an 18 syllable poem.  Oftentimes, I am amazed by how much richness there can be in such a short poem, and translated from Japanese, too.  Yesterday I read this one by Kobayashi Issa:

Her row veering off,
the peasant woman plants
toward her crying child.

Those few sparse lines have given me enough to think about for two days, in regards to motherhood.  No matter where a mother is, her body and soul are pulled toward her child.  As I sit alone in my kitchen, I am cognizant of each of mine;  Ptolemy asleep on my bed, the older girls chatting in the cool basement, Xanthe and Freestone gone, playing with cousins.  There is a radar on which each child registers, six red dots on a map.  But there is also a less physical sphere of awareness, one in which my mind is constantly working.  In the poem, the peasant mother is doing her work, perhaps unaware of her body's instinct toward her child.  Likewise, my mind is relentlessly engaged in evaluation of each child's needs, especially if there is a pressing concern.  In the physical world, the results of a mother's intuition manifest in countless ways that keep the child safe and well.  Food, shelter, a hug, comfort, a decision, a guiding hand, a listening moment, a timely suggestion.  With my new favorite haiku in mind, my hope is to turn my maternal instinct into action that gives each of our little ones just what they need to be healthy. 

Cribs of the Wasatch Front

Sleeping anywhere but his crib.



Freestone had a question the other day.

"Mom, remember when daddy used to sleep in your bed before Ptolemy was born?  Why did he do that?" 
"That's how it works.  He sometimes just doesn't sleep in the bed because he's afraid of squishing Ptolemy."
"Oh.  So, when babies are born, dads sleep on couches?"
"Well, no.  A lot of babies sleep in their cribs."
Freestone looked very skeptical and alarmed and said, "All alone?!  When they're tiny?!"
"Yep."

"Whoaaaaa."

Even though Scott would rather sleep in a room where he can't hear me snore and vice versa, Ptolemy should probably be introduced to his crib at some point.  It still has the pristine, crisp sheets on it that I put on before he was born.  The few times we have stuck him in the crib, he has acted like it was a hideous betrayal.  The Pod is a cuddly little "people person!"  There are grundles of parenting books that say babies should learn to sleep by themselves, but there's plenty of time for that later.  I finally took the neglected crib out of Ari's room and put it in the laundry room.  (Remember when Xanthe lived there?)  Maybe the vertical stripes will hypnotize Tolly into falling asleep on his own.  Poor little guy, he has no idea that his co-sleeping days are numbered. 

Vacation, Day One

It's the first day of our two-week "vacation," and it's been a combination of obligations I failed to cancel and misguided attempts to entertain kids who have too much free time on their hands.  What I've learned so far is that the only person in the world who is worse at relaxing than I am is Xanthe.  And that while Golda's idea of fun is going to the mall, Freestone's idea of fun is staying home playing the Wii.  Ruby's idea of fun is quietly baking and Xanthe's idea of fun is having everybody using 100% of their resources to entertain her.  Ptolemy's idea of fun is dozing while he nurses and Araceli's idea of fun is cackling maniacally while spinning around on the floor in her jammies.

So this is never going to work.

I keep resisting the urge to set goals like, "I'm going to read a whole book every day" or "We have to spend at least two hours a day at the pool."  Really, maybe I have OCD.  Even when we're in total relaxation mode at the beach, I have it all structured.  It's like, "First, I'll take one kid a day to Starbucks for a little outing.  Then we'll go to the beach and relax for 90 minutes.  Then we'll relax at the pool for an hour.  Then we'll take a laid-back stroll along the beach, but we have to go at least one mile.  Lunch will be at 1:00, then we have to dig in the sand for at least two hours before we break open the Chips Ahoy."  What is wrong with me?

I am making progress, though.  On Saturday, I dropped Ari off at a cast party and sneaked to the pool all by myself.  I swam a couple of laps, then read my book, occasionally looking up to admire the mountains.  30 minutes was just enough time to cool off and slow down before diving back into life, which can seem like anything but a clear blue pool of liquid zen, but which is nonetheless heaven for me.  As delicious as relaxation is, it's best enjoyed in small portions, like dark chocolate.

Actually, the vacation isn't going too badly.  The kids are in the cool basement watching Aquamarine.  They have a goal to watch at least two movies every day.  And we made a list of acceptable vacations foods, limited to pizza, raw fruits and veggies and cookie dough.  Am I ruining these kids?

Last First Birthday

Ptolemy turned one!  I can't believe I've been packing this fun little guy around for a whole year.  It's gone by much too quickly.  I'm constantly thinking how thankful I am that he made it to our family.  We NEEDED him in so many ways!  He's a complete delight, and the perfect finishing touch to our family.  For his birthday, he took us all (except Free, who was at another birthday party) to the Indian place for lunch.  The food was great, but Tolly fell asleep before the main course!  When lunch was over, Xanthe said, "Let's go home and get ready for the party!"  I said, "This IS the party," she said, "But it has to have lots of people!"  The kids were outraged that there was no carnival of craziness planned to commemorate our favorite baby's very first birthday!

We reminded them that just last week, Grandma made him a cake and the Dopps had a party at Ryan and Jennie's to celebrate the July birthdays.  He got lots of great gifts and got to smash a tiny piece of his cake.  It  was so good, we decided to eat most of it rather than let him smash it.  Thanks, Grandma!

After Taste of India, the family sang Happy Birthday and had raspberry shakes.  It was too hot for cake!  Ptolemy was wary of the candle!  Still, the kids were unsatisfied with the level of commitment to celebration.

So later, the boys went to Yogo Togo for a birthday yogurt.  Freestone showed Tolly how to mix toppings for a very exciting treat!  I think he got some of every available topping.  But was that enough for The Golden Baby's First Birthday?  No!

Ruby made cupcakes, which we had for dinner Saturday night before Ari left for her play.  And Golda, not to be outdone in the loyal sister category, made The Lambie Cake.  Every one of our kids got a First Birthday cake shaped like a lamb.  It was a tradition.  After we celebrated Xanthe's first birthday, I gave away the lambie cake pan for obvious reasons.  We certainly didn't have any more first birthdays on the horizon!  So Golda had to improvise for Ptolemy with a frosting sheep.  The Kings came over after church Sunday for more Happy Birthdays and more candles.  This time, we let Tolly dig into his cake.  He loved it!  For now, I think the festivities are over.  Golda and Ruby keep saying, "He HAS friends!  We should have a party!  He has Kate and Landon and Isaac and Camden..."  Scott said to the girls, "You guys, Camden is away at college."  That cracked them up, since Camden is always one step ahead of Tolly!  (I thought you'd get a kick out of that, Marianne!)  

So until one of The Pod's siblings plans another soiree, this is a wrap for our last first birthday!  We love you, little Tolly!