What is it?

What is this? Yes, I'm being coy. I'm also in the middle of chronicling the last week. It has been a doozy. Between getting ready for Spencer, him arriving, our fiasco of a weekend, how we mended it and so forth; it has been one for the books. I'm writing. Just be patient. It'll be worth the wait. In the mean time, what is this??

Millions of boxes . . .

Boxes for me. Millions of boxes. Boxes for free. No, not really. They aren't 'for free'. They're for me. For me to unpack, sort through and toss. I am struggling through the slog of apathy and overwhelming urges to crawl under a rock and wait for it all to go away. Hmmm, can we say 'avoidance' anyone??

Here it is, the 12th of October, 6 months after we said goodbye to Cairo, and I am still stumbling over boxes. I have seen friends move after me that are more settled than I am. I should know, I stayed with one of them this summer, in their new house. I'm here, in my new house, with my husband coming home in 3 days without any room to park our car in the garage.

But really, don't worry. I just had to introduce this preface because it's how I'm feeling. I know that I will get this done. With Spencer home, we'll probably rocket through piles of boxes a day. Those things tend to happen with 2 adults around. I'm also feeling a bit guilty about not posting very often. I just don't feel like I have anything worthwhile to say nor do I have the time to compose my thoughts into anything that closely resembles structure.

We'll cover the last week in bullets: (or dashes, seeing as how I just realized that I don't have any bullets.)

-- Monday, Oct. 5th --
I drove my mom to Montana to my pregnant sister's house. We had a wonderful time together.

-- Wednesday, Oct. 7th --
I drove back to Rexburg. And jumped back into everything.

-- Thursday, Oct. 8th --
Taylor Brooke Andersen was born!!

-- Friday, Oct. 9th --
Chased my tail; ran errands that were long overdue and bought a piano.

-- Saturday, Oct. 10th --
Had all 4 kids home, as I usually do on Saturdays. So you can bet that nothing much of merit go accomplished. I went to my friend's yearly Harvest Dinner; a gourmet feast where I felt like an adult for a few hours.

-- Sunday, Oct. 11th --
Went to church, had a couple over for dinner and games. Children decided to smoke a special brand of crack and act even more insane than they really are, trying to prove the point that I really don't have any control.

And that brings us to today. Today. 2-day. to-Day!! Yeah, let's see what happens.

My Prrrrecious . . .

As Gollum is wont to worship the Ring, I have hoarded an adulation in secret for far too long . . . A piano of my own.

During our 4 years in Egypt, I spent the first year tracking down pianos to rent. At the turning of one year, I found a Piano Guy. The adventures that ensued were painful and arduous, and will be given full justice in retelling, but that's for another day. The purpose of today's tale is the acquisition. I obtained my piano and there it resided in my living room for the next 3 years. Egypt time came to a close and the music maker was returned to Piano Guy.

We returned to the States and I have been in withdrawals. Not that I consider myself a concert pianist. I don't play that well. I took lessons all through my childhood, but quit at the age of 11.In retrospect (as all past experiences are viewed) that was not a very smart choice on my part. Don't worry, I have a little version of myself turning 11 in a short year and a half, so not to worry about karma. I rediscovered the piano while I was studying in Spain my senior year of high school. It became my escape and I retaught myself many things. Though I don't think I've regained my former glory. Für Elise will never be topped nor will it ever be lived down. Ever.

Moving on to college, I was grateful for the pianos in the dorm basement. I spent many a happy hour, twinkling away my worries on those delicate ivories. The rest of the building is probably thankful for the soundproofing in that studio. Once I got married, we inherited a wonderful digital keyboard from my sister-in-law, Callie. We still have it. I would pull it out occasionally, but it was usually kept out of reach from the sticky fingers of my offspring.

Coming full round again, I have managed to keep a piano in my peripheral most of my life. But never have I owned one all my own. Which comes to the purpose of this story, how to get a piano. I was listening to the radio the other day and kept hearing advertisements for a piano sale. The BYU-I music department has a sale every year. They have music labs and sell their pianos every year. Nice. So I figured out where said sale was (it was not easy to find) and wandered in with Jacqui in tow. I plunked on a couple keys and drooled over the black, glossy baby grands. Even though I knew my reality would be a digital piano. I'm not the biggest fan of keyboards, but let's be realistic. What with all of our gallivanting around the globe, it's not that easy to lug a +1000 lb object to each residence. That and the challenge of finding someone to tune it each time we move. And periodic tunings in country.

Digital keyboard have made great leaps and bounds past their ancestors. The biggest hurdle I faced when trying to convince myself that a keyboard was the real thing was the feedback in my fingers. Also, . . . . . wait, I'm boring you, aren't I? The main point is, I'm now pleased with the advances of digital pianos. Enough so that I took the plunge. I bought a Kawai CP117. (another statistic you don't care about either, huh?) Basically, it's a freakin' sweet piano!!! That I bought for a song! And a little dance if you count Jacqui's meltdown in the middle of the showroom! I was having a bit of buyer's remorse for the rest of the day. Rethinking to myself, "I don't remember playing EVERY key. Do they all work? And I didn't try out EVERY function! What if . . . ?" Then it was delivered. All uncertainty melted away. I sat down and played to my heart's content. I played a song for my babies before bed. I got up when I couldn't sleep and played MY piano. My. Piano.

My Montana Visit

"One misty moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather . . . ." Traditional nursery rhyme

That very well described my Monday morning. My Mom & I were also getting ready to drive up to Montana to a) drop her off at my sister's and b) see her in the full bloom of pregnancy. (due date today) We still left, it's just that we were met with this in the morning.


I broke out my brand-new snow brush & scraper combo and went to work. Kids made it to school safely and we were on our way out of town in no time. There wasn't a scrap of snow by the time we reached Salmon. I had a lovely little mini-vacation and made it back through dry roads this afternoon. Just in time to run Jacqui to gymnastics, unload the car, pick kids up from school, run Grant to gymnastics, get the van lubed, make dinner and . . . . whew, I think I need another break!! Don't worry, I'll get another treat next week. My honey will be picked up from the airport next Wednesday night! And we get a whole 3 weeks together!!

YouTube Tuesday

This is not from YouTube, but it is a video!! I had way too much fun!

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Unsure

I've had this topic sitting in my "Edit Posts" section for some time. I've been adding to or subtracting from it occasionally. You know, between painting a wall or rummaging through boxes. The main idea, though, is a subject I've been wrestling with for a while. Trying to figure out what I blog about and who I blog for. I don't consider myself to be some author with a wide readership and countless scores of strangers waiting with baited breath for my next publication. I also won't belittle the family and friends and the random lurker that will read what I put out there. But finding a subject that satisfies ME is what I'm getting at.

Some things are too mommy-ish. But Mommy things are intertwined with my daily goings on. I do have an opinion, but I don't want to be too political or polarizing. So what to do? It's difficult to have a separate identity from the 'Mommy stuff' because that's my life! I like being a Mom!! I've thought of having a separate blog, I just don't know what I'll accomplish. Sometimes there are things I KNOW that just my friends will find funny, but my Mom won't and vice versa. (nissan versa, boop boop, uh, yeah, i'll explain another time) See what I mean??

Should I just channel my writing itch and write a book? No, too ambitious. Or maybe do a themed blog, like my current projects or a Julie/Julia project. No, stupid, already been done. Not that I would care if anyone ever liked it. I don't think the world needs ANOTHER pointless book or blog. Not that I'd try to make it pointless, it would just turn out that way. I'm way too spread out in my interests. Blame it on ADD. Everyone else does. I started this blog to keep connected with family and friends while we're far away. And I've ended up liking the blogging part a lot more than I thought. Yeah, go ahead and laugh, I don't care. I enjoy making time for it and I get a little thrill from every. single. comment. 'Cause seriously, who doesn't want just a teeny bit of recognition for all the hard work that goes into composing a well written story? And also, to be perfectly honest, yes, blogging fills a little narcissistic pleasure corner of that gray matter between my ears.

As long as I'm being completely honest, I like blogging/writing so much, I have even gotten out of bed to go finish writing out a thought that kept banging around in my head and wouldn't let me sleep. I know, interfering with sleep, crazy!! Not because I think it'll wow anyone or get me a Pulitzer or even a thousand hits in an hour. But because I like it. I love it. I want some more of it. (there's a little bit of Tim McGraw for ya) I read other peoples ouevres and feel a tiny knot of, I don't know, jealousy? No. Envy? Maybe. Desire? YES!! YES!! Desire to create something that I enjoy and for someone else to enjoy. So here's to branching out, cutting back or whatever the heck I decide to do!

The morning after

This is what a little boy looks like that stayed up too late the night before because he was excited about Grandma's arrival. He's not burying his head in anger, he's flopped on the couch, exhausted. I dressed him in that position and there he stayed until it was time to load into the car. And even then, it was shuffling toward the door, Pop Tart in hand (our default quickie breakfast) mumbling, "Mommy, will Grandma still be here when we get home?"
"Yes she will."
Grandma was downstairs sleeping off jet lag. She is adjusting very well and we have been enjoying her thoroughly. I even got my first pedicure yesterday! Look, they found toenails!! And the name of the polish? 'I'm not really a waitress'. It cracks me up even more than the hairy-ness of my piggies. OPI Nail polish has the best names. There's this purple-ish lavendar color called 'Kinky in Helsinki' or a pinky-reddish color named "I'm his Coral-friend". The names are hilarious. Just one more, a silvery-metal one; "Suzi Skies in the Pyrenees."