Lucky Seven

Guy on the pier:  Are all of those kids yours?
Scott:  Yes.  We have seven kids!
Guy on the Pier:  Wow!  You didn't get shortchanged at all, didja!?
Scott:  Well, it depends on how you look at it.
Scott, Me and Guy on the Pier: {laughter}

I don't know about shortchanged.  All I know is, we hit the jackpot with our lucky seven!

Sunday Will Come

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlc5RvmWN4s&list=PLAD2B4B644506DFDB&index=8

Happy Easter From the Dopps

 Happy Easter from all of us, courtesy of Grandma Marlene's beautiful Easter eggs.  Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa!  We love you!

Catch ya on the flip side!

Silly Email

Dear Parent, Golda Cristine Dopp has received a grade of A+ in seminary this term. Please reply to this message or call the teacher at 801 555-2950 with any concerns.

Yes, I am very concerned. I must call right away.  Only an A+?  I'm going to march down there right now and tell someone how concerned I am.  Outraged, really.

Somewhere Between

My older kids and I watched a movie tonight that Scott and I saw in the theater, Somewhere Between.  Twenty minutes into it, Xanthe wandered out of bed and Ruby invited her to watch the movie.  I wasn't going to let her see it, but she was quiet and I started thinking she might be old enough.

After the movie, as I was tucking Xanthe in, I said, "So, what did you think that movie was about?"  Xanthe replied, "Chinese people."  I thought maybe she didn't pick up on much, but as I pulled the blankets up to her chin, Xanthe said in a small voice, "Mom, how many days did my birth mother keep me?"

"Four," I said out loud as I chanted in my head, "Hold it together, hold it together, hold it together..."  I didn't want to break down in the sobs that a moment like this deserves.  I wanted it to be about Xanthe and her processing her emotions, not mine.  But the way she phrased her question was so heartbreaking.

I began, not wanting to say anything that wasn't true, "Your birth mother kept you for four days, and she probably held you the whole time, you were so tiny and beautiful.  Then she or someone else took you someplace where they knew you would be safe, which was the orphanage."  We then moved on to a discussion about her "roommates," and how Xanthe hoped none of them were older than she was, because she wanted to be the oldest.

Xanthe wasn't found with a note, as far as we know.  Most babies are found with a note telling at least their birth date.  That leads me to believe that Xanthe's family was very poor and illiterate.  If we could find them, I would, in a heartbeat.  There is no question for me, I would want to know where Xanthe came from, and who her people are, if I had the choice.  I don't know how Xanthe will feel in the future, but I do know that we will probably never even have a scrap of information about her family.

It's enough to know that Xanthe is where she belongs, according to Heavenly Father's plan.  I have a feeling the future could be very interesting as God's plan unfolds for Xanthe.  She has amazing things in store for her, and I can't help but hope that some of them include the people who brought her into this world.

For tonight, I can only offer up my silent gratitude to Xanthe's birth parents, and promise them that Scott and I will take care of their - our - little girl.

You Win!

OK, since nobody wants my hot air balloon pictures, I am going to choose one lucky winner and drop them off at your house.  Stay tuned while I choose a victim winner!

Hot Air Balloons

Hey!  Anybody want these very nicely framed hot air balloon pictures?  They're about 2' by 3'.  I also have a twin bedspread to go with the hot air balloons.  The flower print is also cute, and I have two of them, I think.  If nobody claims them, they are going bye bye. 

Anyone redecorating?  The hot air balloons are cute, but the frames are super nice, if you have another idea for them.  Between one of you and Pinterest, you should be able to come up with a good use for these!

Anyone?...Buhler?...Buhler?...

Easter Shelter and the F. E. F.

 This year on Easter, we will most likely be enjoying leftover Seacoast Pizza at the beach, so I was thankful for the chance to put on a real Easter dinner today...twice!

For my turn to host Shelter, I fixed a ham, "funeral" potatoes, French onion soup, broccoli salad and sauteed Brussels sprouts...all those tried-and-true comfort foods you can make without a recipe.  I also had way too much fun collecting all the ladies' favorite Easter candy for Easter baskets.  Adults never get their very own Easter basket, and it's not fair!  Today, we all got our very own of everything, including a wiiiide slice of coconut cake.  I tried to take credit for making this beautiful cake, but Ptolemy blew my cover when he said, "You didn't make that.  You just put the jelly beans on top of it."

Midway through a delightful feast and rousing conversation about the Russian Revolution and medical malpractice, Ptolemy took off and went to Abe's house.  Later, he justified it by saying, "Well, MY party was OVER."  He just makes stuff up, this kid...except when he tells the truth about Sam's Club cakes.  :)

Since the table was already set so nicely, I had planned a family dinner that I touted as "FEF."  Family Easter Feast.  I was afraid FEF would be a bust, with everyone's varied schedules and the fact that nobody believes me when I say that there's going to be food.  To my delight, everyone was there ready when I got home from ballet, and the Family Easter Feast was Norman-Rockwell-perfect.  If you've ever tried to sit nine people down to an Easter Feast on a Wednesday night between ballet, scouts and Young Women's, you know I wouldn't be remiss in calling the success of FEF a miracle.

Maybe I'm going overboard.  Maybe it wasn't THAT great, but if I were going to die next week (another lunch topic), this is the kind of day I would want every day to be like, right down to the cake I made bought.  I still have some left if anyone wants to come over...

late and uptight

So I spent a good five-to-seven minutes berating Golda and Ruby the other day because I couldn't find them at a church activity, and now I was going to be late to teach after dropping them off at dance.  I hate being late; don't even get me started!  Being late strikes me as arrogant, or at the very least, disorganized.  I could analyze the compulsion to be on time, but I'll just tell you what happened.

Despite my high level of annoyance, the girls were on time for their dance class and I was ONE minute late for my violin lesson.  Still enough late to cause my vision to blur in frustration, but I still got there before my student, so I relaxed a little.  Then I waited for 24 minutes.  25 minutes into a 30 minute lesson, my darling little student arrived.  Her mom apologized and we went on to have a very nice five-minute violin lesson.  My student and her mom were relaxed and laughing and not the least bit upset at being late.  They were fine!  I thought back to my own reaction at the possibility of being late, and thought, "Geez!  I need to lighten up!"

I'm not going to, but it's something to think about.

Stan the Knife Man

My friend Jennifer gave me the info for the knife man.  She was smart enough to keep his card!  Kenzie and whoever else asked, yes, please copy!  ;)

801-403-7103
stan@wisdomforwellbeing.com

Ptolemy

 

Ptolemy is small, but his personality radiates beyond his body.  His spirit is so strong, we felt his presence even before he was born!  Now that's he's here, he is a force to be reckoned with.  If I wrote down every funny thing Tolly said, I'd be writing all day.  He likes to watch Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, but some things about the show don't really check out for Ptolemy.  He whispered to me,  like it was a dangerous conspiracy theory, "Danwell Tiger doesn't really have any neighbors."  Then he complained, "Danwell Tiger calls me 'neighbor,' but my name is Chip."  Yes, it's frustrating when televised, animated versions of puppets don't get your name right.  Life can be so upsetting!

And confusing!  We had a discussion yesterday about how old Ptolemy is.  For some reason, he has decided not to be three or eight anymore.  Now he's two, except when he wants three treats because he's three.  I asked him, "What about eight?"  He whined, "I already BEEN eight!"  Then he did his trademark weary sigh, as if to say, "You people are all idiots."  At least he didn't actually say, "You people are all idiots," because sometimes he does call people names.  He said Daddy's not handsome, he's bald, and "smart" doesn't mean gwills, "pretty" means gwills.  Smart means boys.  Yikes!  Where did that come from!?  The world according to a three-year-old who changes his age to suit his whims.  I hope he gets it all straightened out before some smart girl beats him up for saying girls are pretty, not smart.

And I think bald is handsome, just for the record!  :D

The Easter Bunny's Special Trip

 The Easter Bunny Came early to our house.  He didn't think he would be able to find us at the beach next week, so he made a special trip to fill our baskets.  He is a good Easter Bunny who knows the merits of chocolate and new, spring clothes.  We love him!  Just look at these faces!  Ptolemy has been so excited for Easter to come, so that he could have "those plastic eggs that are filled with candy!"

 Who, me?

 Scott loves holidays!  He always makes sure they are special.

 A sunset over the water

Some of Golda's eggs

Knight in Stainless Steel Armor

We have recently had some beautiful, warm evenings here.  One one such lovely evening, the Dopps were eating pizza for dinner in the front yard when an elderly traveling salesman reached our home.  I had seem him in the neighborhood, knew he was selling knives, and felt rather sorry for him.  I didn't need any overpriced knives, but I also couldn't let him get away without sharing a couple of slices of pizza with us.

After graciously accepting my offer for pizza, he said, "But first let me tell you why I'm here."  Long story short, I bought three overpriced knives from an 80-year-old man going door to door, parking his beat-up minivan in an inconspicuous spot as he carefully canvassed each neighborhood.  The knives were only ten bucks each, but still...overpriced.  Nevertheless, I was happy to pay.  The deal closed, our new friend started in on his pizza.  He kept saying, "Oh, this is the best pizza I've ever had.  This is so good.  And I haven't eaten for so long!"  He was so grateful, I very nearly bought the rest of his little red knives.  As we ate, he told us about his wife and their children, lavishing praise on his wife, saying how remarkable she is, and what a good mother.  He told how he once visited his daughter in South Carolina and had a box of knives shipped there beforehand so he could "do a little work" while he was on vacation.

I wish I had kept the business card he gave me, in case any of you were on the market for a cute little wedding gift.  I know it's not much, but I put each knife in a cellophane bag with a note that says, "Pointers on a happy marriage:  Stay sharp, avoid cutting remarks, don't be afraid to live on the edge, steel yourselves for challenges and never let your relationship get dull."

Here's another pointer for a happy marriage, men:  When you're eighty years old, and your marriage has maybe reached the half-century mark and the retirement money isn't what you hoped for, that's when it could be your time to really shine.  Your moment of glory could be carrying a box of paring knives, knocking on doors, telling the world that you are in love with a queen, and that you intend to do right by her no matter what.  No matter what.

Exchanges

Every day, I have a goal to book something.  Something geographically remote from me, way in the future, virtually inconceivable and also, non-refundable.  Scary!  A flight from Venice to Lisbon in July.  Really?  Doesn't that seem a little far-fetched?  A hotel room in Omaha?  What if we change our minds?  D. C. Metro passes?  We don't even live there!

It's all part of Preposterous Plan 2013.  Golda asked me why I have to have these dumb names for everything.  It's because I have to mentally put all of these preparations under the same umbrella, making them pieces of a whole.  It's not fun to say, "I'm booking a hotel room in Cleveland."  Whoop-de-doo.  I'd rather proclaim (preferably after a loud trumpet fanfare), "Well, another piece of P. P. 2013 has fallen perfectly into place!  My master plan is taking shape!"

It's like creating a piece of art, except you don't need any skills.  You start with the large brushstrokes, again in the form of dramatic proclamations:  "THIS is the summer we are going to do a long road trip," or "Our daughters will be fine in Europe for five weeks without us!"  Then you take the canvas and start filling in the lines and details of a grand adventure.  I have a stack of travel books by my bed, and I use them to enter information into my brain where it can eventually be distilled into a decision and then further distilled into a reservation.  I can only do a little bit at a time because it is kinda stressful to turn these ideas into realities.  I mean, what if it doesn't work out?

And then there's the money factor.  I worked all morning on a violin so I could turn my time into two e-tickets from Lyon to Venice.  So that piece of the puzzle is in place, in exchange for a day of my life.  I'm also turning most of Scott's hard work into various reservations!  It's safe to say that I have a history of this kind of behavior, as do my parents, and I'm afraid it's contagious.  Scott has definitely caught it.  Golda and Ruby earned the money for their airline tickets and brought the money to us in fives and ones.  It was a thrilling night when we all counted the money and their flights were booked.  They had typed up a proposal, listing all the things they were willing to give up in return for this opportunity.  It brought tears to our eyes that they have wanted this so much.  When Scott gave his final consent for the trip, they both burst into tears, and so did Scott and I!

You probably can't decipher this, but it's a four-page itinerary from 1996, for two newlyweds, one of whom thought it would be reasonable to spend all summer traveling, since we were poor students and all.  These pages are well-worn, soft and floppy and stained with various drop of hot chocolate and bread crumb grease.  We referred to them daily during our two months in Europe and our drives to and from New York.  It sounds fun to get a Eurrail pass and just wing it all summer, but it's a lot less exhausting to have a plan when you're too tired to think.  And believe me, when I get this summer sorted out, I'm definitely going to be too tired to think.  Good thing I'll have an itinerary to tell me what to do next!

So here's the plan, the Preposterous Plan 2013:  Golda, Scott and Ruby are going to New York for Golda's 16th birthday.  From there, Scott will put them on a plane to France (via Iceland!) where they will stay with my friends in Lille and Lyon for a month.  Then they'll spend a long weekend in Venice with some FOAF's, followed by 10 days in Spain with my dear friend Gema.

Meanwhile, four kids (only 4?!) and I will be making our way across the country in the Preposterous Plan Van, arriving in D. C. in time to pick up Golda and Ruby at the airport on their way home from Lisbon.  Scott is flying with Tzioprah and joining us in D.C. for a week of sightseeing, while we stay in my cousin's house.  If you have any must-see items in the area, please tell me.  I'm so excited to show the kids all the monuments and spend time in some of the Smithsonians!  At the end of the trip, some of us will get home in under 8 hours.  Some, well, a few days longer.  We have some fun stops planned for the route home.  (More cousins!!)

When P.P. 2013 was but an inkling, I didn't know how we would ever pay for it.  Get this:  all the kids are taking the summer off from all their music lessons!  And that's how we are funding the Stateside part of Preposterous Plan 2013.  In fact, it is in some ways the most preposterous part of it all.  It may not seem like a big deal, but to me it is.  I absolutely love the kids playing instruments, but we do it for a lot of other reasons too.  (Ex: every single one of Golda's teacher's students have gotten full-ride scholarships to Weber.)  When I first entertained the idea of reallocating that lesson money, it seemed like too much to give up.  But just as important as the music lessons are the crazy things you think you can't do, but then you find a way.  Golda and Ruby found a way to stay in Europe all summer, virtually for free, and then they found a way to earn the money to get there.  (Next summer, our house may be packed with European kids cashing in on the exchanges we have set up!)

Traveling might not be your thing, but whatever your thing is, you can get it if you're willing to sacrifice enough other things.  The trick in life is to sacrifice the right things, and sometimes you don't know if you're making a good bargain until later.  Here are some vintage pictures of a bargain Scott and I made sixteen years ago that turned out to be worth every dollar in table-waiting tips we spent.

 World Trade Center...a classic picture, and sad.

 Portugal...we spent a week in the Algarve, renting a room in someone's house right on the beach for 10 bucks and a liter of Fanta Orange a night.  Scott and I had gone crazy in New York and dyed our hair.  I then apparently colored my eyebrows to match with some sort of industrial-strength magic marker.

 Venice

 We met my dad in Rome where he saved Scott's life with a "Metamucil Cocktail."  We won't go into details!  We also surprised my mom in Austria, where she was leading a group of students on a trip.  She didn't recognize us with our new hair colors!

 I love this picture of us on the Spanish Steps.

 The day we met our lifelong friends, Zeljko and his family, when we impulsively jumped off a train in Greece.  Then we thought it was by chance that we met the Mijatovic family.  It wasn't.

 Istanbul, caught between two continents overlooking the Bosphorus.

Worn out!  It was great to be back in the States.  We brought two of my young cousins and an injured cat named Lucky with us from Pennsylvania when we drove home, then we just continued on to Imperial Beach with my family, to relax on the beach and recover from all those overnight trains!

On the other hand, we have also given up countless trips to stay home and have (countless) kids.  "You are my blue Italian lake, you are my bit of foreign sky," and all that.  Of course, that turned out to be a good bargain, too, since we now have built-in traveling buddies as well as people to stay home with whenever our travel plans extend only as far as the Redbox and Kaysville Theater for a bag of popcorn to go.