Car Conversation

When the four of us are in the car, Baby Boy has this charming habit of calling everyone's name, just to check. "Mommy!" "Yes, honey." "Daddy!" "Yes, boo." "Titi?" [insert the 9 year old's growl here]. We call it Roll Call. Daughter explains her reaction this way:

"I don't want to be unsupportive, but I'm not a fan of the Roll Call."

That girl slays me.

Dear Baby Brother,

Thank you for my eggs tonight. I now officially amend my scrambled egg rule to include yours.

Thank you for your support during hard times.

Thank you for laughing with (at?) me. I think.

Thank you for all your help around the house and with the children.

Thank you for loving my children the way you do. They adore you, and I can see that you adore them. Love lasts; this time together will stay in their hearts for a very long time.

Thank you for being the best brother a woman could ask for. I love, value, and appreciate you.

Love,
Aimers

I'm not that kind of girl

Last night Daughter attempted to go to yoga with me. I prepped her ahead of time saying that it's a whole hour long, there's no talking, I'd love to be with her but be forewarned. On the way there we went over the "rules" again. She was unyoga-ly hyped for the task ahead of her. Can you tell where this is heading?

Halfway through the practice, she sweetly asks, "How much longer?" Uh-oh. Every mom knows what that means. Still, I give her the benefit of the doubt. A few minutes later she whispers, "I'm bored." I gave her a "good luck with that" sort of shrug from my downward dog position. Then I slowly took compassion on her and asked if she wanted to go. Pretty darn nice of me, huh? She declined. Another sun salutation for me. Dang, I'm doing great tonight, I think! This is wonderful! Next thing I know, I look upside-down at my girl, whose head is on her knees and whose shoulders are shaking. This is getting serious. She says she's hungry and bored and wants to go, but doesn't want to interrupt what I'm doing. I remind her that she is more important than yoga (but only barely... don't want her to get a big head, you know). We quietly slip out of the room.

Walking down the hallway I have my arm around her and reassure her that it's not a big deal, that it's totally ok, that we really need to go get a snack. A few quiet moments pass, and I venture,
"We learned something tonight, didn't we?"
"Yeah," she responds. "I'm not a sit-and-wait kind of girl."

I'm glad she's a woman of action, not a sit-and-wait person. It's a quality that will serve her well in life. I adore this child.

Dear Santa,

I have now returned back to earth from heaven, and have landed square in the Land of Dirty Dishes. I could segregate my dirties from my cleans, as most normal Americans do, but alas, my dishwasher and my husband are conspiring against me.

As I turn to my stack of so-called Clean Glasses, usually when I have guests over, and begin to pour them a nice refreshing glass of water, I notice flecks of yucky stuck to the inside of the glass. Upon further inspection, I see that many of my other glasses are similarly afflicted. My heart begins to race, smoke streams from my ears, as I think, "Who didn't rinse the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher?! Moreover, who put unclean dishes away?!" I go through the mental list of everything I do, how much work I have anyway, how unreasonable it is that I should have to wash these dishes twice, for God's sake. This is unhealthy.

Rather than fume about the situation, I choose to research a solution. I call the dishwasher repairman, who tells me that my filter was dirty, and that will be $150, thank you very much. The dishes are cleaner, now, but not for long. Soon the dishwasher leaves them bespeckled once again. I beg Steve for a new dishwasher, but he claims he can clean the filter. And he does. The dishes wash cleaner... for about a day. He cleans the filter again, and notices that the water isn't draining. I get on my knees and plead with him for a new dishwasher. Nope. He will figure out the drainage issue. Eventually. And maybe clean the filter every 3rd day. In the meantime, I remain dubious about how clean our dishes really are.

Santa, if you have a heart for a poor mommy, please bring me a new dishwasher this Christmas. Please have your elves install it while I sleep. I don't need a bow or any wrapping paper. I don't need new clothes or pretty shiny things under the tree. I just want clean dishes. Oh, and you might want to double-check the plate your cookies were left on and the glass your milk was served in. I'm just saying.

Where Heaven is Located

I am in heaven, and it is located in Santa Cruz, California. My aunt recently finished building her dream house, here. It is in a secluded spot (I didn't realize there was any seclusion left for sale in California!), overlooking a little valley with big trees and a little river, and in the distance is the Monterrey Bay. It is quiet, except for the crickets, has a beauty that has no choice but to provoke peace within, and soon it will be filled with my extended family, whom I love so much. Not to mention, the cooking here is to die for.

The peace and quiet I am now enjoying will soon be replaced by frivolity and joy. My son will wake up from his nap, and in the next few days our number will reach 19, all here to celebrate Marce's 50th birthday. I am so fortunate to be from a family that loves each other enough to gather like this. We are a spirited group, a little shrill when excited, but that means we are passionate about our convictions, including devotion to one another. All that said, by Sunday I'm sure I'll be really ready for those marguaritas that Uncle Dean makes.

Pool Time

KED






Bro and Sis






PJBD






Uncle Peter





No, he's not drowning; Daddy is helping him learn to go underwater.



And my personal favorite photos (Mel, this one's for you!):




Gracie right side up...







...and upside down!

An Out of Body Experience

I am not myself these days. Two years ago I was preggers with our son, and eating two bowls of ice cream every day. I figured that this was most likely my last pregnancy, so I was darn well going to enjoy the heck out of it. Looking back, I must have thought that the baby fat would melt off, as it did with my daughter. However, I did not count on two factors this time around:

1. That I am 7 years older than I was with Kathryn and weight is a little harder to lose.
2. That I would be more tired with two and therefore less excited about exercise.
3. That when the baby was 5 months old, I would break my leg, have surgery, be on 7 weeks of bedrest, and be weaker ever after.

I look at myself in the mirror, now, and it's just not my body. I'm not supposed to be this size. My tummy has always been flat and now it's not. And back fat? Puh-lease!

For whatever reason, God has given the gift of motivation to two of my favorite people. My brother, Peter, who is currently living with us, is in training for running a marathon. And my oldest, dearest friend, Ruthie, is now seriously working toward being a yoga instructor. And believe it or not, they inspire me! I don't know what this will lead me toward, but I've had it with this wretched body of mine. Getting up early is out, and I'm beat by dinner time, and it's hard as all get-out to get out of the house without my children, but maybe there's a routine I can establish that will help get me back in shape. Send me happy exercise vibes.

To My Daughter on her Ninth Birthday

You, my girl, the child who made me a mother, are nine years old today! We have had such a wonderful day together today, with our traditional birthday girls' day out. You are so excited about the flower they painted on your big toenails at our mani-pedis. You waited to find just the right outfit at the mall. You were thrilled to see our new housemate, your "Uncle Pizza," at lunch. My cheeks hurt so much from all the laughing we did today! You held my hand in every parking lot we were in today, and each time, I savored the moment, knowing they are limited. Please don't grow up so fast. Here are some other things I love about you at this brief moment in time:

1. You are so earnest when you talk about very grown-up things, such as the fashion choices on "Project Runway" or "What Not to Wear." You don't sound at all like a little girl, so to hear the utter sincerity of your opinions coming out of that be-freckled little face is marvelous!

2. You make no apologies for your talents. They are just a fact, like your clear blue eyes. Today as we made your Birthday Calzone, you put on your new apron and sighed, "I love to cook. I have several different gifts. I can't choose just one." You are not yet at an age where you have to prioritize.

3. You love God, and you love to learn about Him. When you took your first communion, you exclaimed loudly, "That was GREAT!" You feel short-changed when we can't make it to Sunday School or we miss church. One time you were so upset that we were missing Holy Eucharist that we had to run to the grocery store and get some port and mazzo bread, pulled out the Book of Common Prayer, and fudge communion as best we could, just to calm you down. Needless to say, your first experience at church camp was a raging success. May this bring you a lifetime of peace and joy.

4. Your freckles are so incredibly beautiful! I love every single one--especially the family freckle. You know the one.

5. Your compassion blows me away. It's not the sappy kind of compassion, although a cute puppy will invoke an appropriate "Awwww, cute!" No, yours is Action Compassion. [I'm going to trademark that, I think.] You do chores to buy a CD to bring to a sick friend. You enjoy helping at the homeless shelter, and are willing to donate your backpack and supplies for the homeless kids. You, my darling, have a generous heart. I credit your father's influence.

6. You are so blessedly snuggly. We complain about what a flopper you are in bed, but secretly I enjoy how you smash your whole body right up against mine all night. Even though you are long and lanky, it's still wonderful to hold you on my lap in the evenings.

7. What a funny child you are! You use a hint of sarcasm and a marvelous vocabulary. Together, they absolutely slay me.

8. You are perhaps the most loving sister I've ever seen. You are so patient with your baby brother. You never complain about the compromises we all must make by having a little one around, or some of the added responsibility. You are a help to your father and me, and a model to the baby. He is such a fortunate child to have you to look up to. I hate to think that this is a side of you we almost never saw.

9. I take great joy in your antiestablishmentarianism. You prefer to be just a little bit on the edge of popularity. When we went to the Jonas Brothers concert, you rolled your eyes at how frenzied the other little girls were. When the crowd was wildly and loudly applauding, you lightly tapped your fingers together, saying you wanted to show your enjoyment but not add to the noise. Please always feel free to color outside the lines.

10. How on earth can I possibly stop at 10? You are smart and reasonable, super silly, clutzy (like me), so very strong. You are focused and pay attention to details, and seem to remember everything. At the same time, you never seem to be able to find whatever you are looking for, and will forget something you're told 2 seconds after you've heard it. You are unselfconscious, full of enthusiasm, and springy! I love every little cell in your being, and am so happy I get to be your mother.

Happy birthday, my precious one. May the year ahead be your best yet.
Love,
Mommy

These are the Thoughts that Occupy my MInd (what's left of it)

Daughter's 9th birthday is a week from today. Nine years ago today I went into labor. She was born 7 days later. (A story for another time.) Since I am a winter baby, planning her summer birthday party has always been a source of fun for me. Not so much this year.

Because of camp last week taking up 98% of my brain, we put off planning her party until she got back on Saturday. Here is the series of events:
Sunday night: Spoke with the pool's party planner. This is now the 3rd year in a row she's had a pool party. She confirms that we can have her party at 1 pm on Saturday, August 2. We order her invitations.
Tuesday: We mail the invitations, saying that the party will be on Saturday, August 2 at 1 pm. You see where this is going.
Wednesday: Ignorant bliss.
Thursday (today)--9 days before the event: Party coordinator calls and says that I cannot have the party at 11 am on Aug 2 because there's a swim meet scheduled. I say no problem, we had requested 1 pm anyway. She says that's a no go, since someone else has the pool from 1-4.

In the estimable words of Bill the Cat, ACK! ACK ACK ACK! Invitations are out, and there is no party place. If we do the party after 4 pm, baby boy may be too tired to be much fun at the party. Any other options for party days are also reserved until 4 pm.

Dear reader(s), if you've been holding off on commenting before, now is the time to dive on in. I sure could use some ideas. By the way, hosting at our house isn't really an option.

Short and Oh, so Sweet

The boy-child is always learning new words. We heard a new one at diaper-changing time tonight. As I was trying to wrestle him into a clean nappy and pajamas, his little voice squeeked, "Help! Help!" We laughed so hard we had to let him run around naked for a while.

An Open Letter to Doctors' Offices*

Dear ones, since you are always dealing with people who are nervous, or hurting, or somehow uncomfortable, please do not add to the anxiety by tuning your radio station to abrasive music. I like Aerosmith as much as the next girl, and I had many of my happiest moments with 80's hair bands in the background, but when I am sitting in your waiting room, guitar riffs are the last thing I want to hear. I am partial to classical music; no matter where I am, I can settle into myself with a symphony in the background. I know I am not like everyone, though. Waiting room music should be not-noticeable. Just something creating an ambient atmosphere, conducive to relaxation.

For example, yesterday I was in urgent care with my back hurting so badly I was near tears. The radio in the office was loud, tuned to a 70's/80's station with static. Static, I tell you! It's very possible my ears started to bleed. On top of that, the nurses and office manager were opposed to looking anyone in the eye or speaking kindly. By the end of the visit, my nerves were frayed and I was weeping. Weeping, I tell you! Two summers ago I had the distinct displeasure of frequently visiting the obstetrician, where the music over the loudspeaker was tuned to a different station than the little radio the receptionists kept behind the front desk. Warring music! It was my own personal hell.

So, friends and colleagues, take heed. Some of your patients are already a little wound up and are quite noise-sensitive. Please don't make it worse by embracing static or choosing music that is too noticeable. I beg of you, use your powers for good and not evil by choosing unobtrusive music.

*Disclaimer: I am the office manager at a dentist's office, and often in control of the music, unless a certain doctor is in the office, in which case we have no choice but to listen to Clint Black or Kenny Chesney over and over. I probably frustrate our patients with my music choices, and I accept that. Moreover, I live with a non-noise-sensitive man who has no problem having the TV on, the radio on, and playing the ukelele AT THE SAME TIME. The moral of the lesson is that familiarity breeds contempt.

Emptier Nest

The house is too quiet. I miss her. Her baby brother keeps looking for her. This morning, he couldn't stop looking at photos on her, hanging on the wall. At every one, he'd point and say, "Titi?"

Lest anyone start feeling sorry for her, though, here is a photo of her with her counselor, nicknamed "Element:"
The cabin is a converted boxcar. Air-conditioned, no less. She'll be fine. Here is the view of her camp site, with Mt. Rainier in the background:

Random Sunday

1) KED is at camp, now. I didn't cry when I hugged her goodbye, only because I was still frustrated from the 3 hour drive getting there. (Can you believe the camp people don't answer the phones on check-in day?) However, I did cry before we left, and that, in turn, made her cry. There were many meaningful looks at her from me today, as I tried to telepathically teach her everything she might need for a successful camp week, everything I might have overlooked lo, these 9 years we've had together. She said a quick goodbye, and skipped off to her pizza dinner. Now we're home, but my heart is 60 miles away.

2) Last night our closet started smelling of something dead or dying. We emptied out the closet, vacuumed, and refilled it. It still smells of decay, and the smell has moved toward the hallway. Yucky yuckity yuck.

3) When you grow up in a church, raised by a church musician, and you can play the piano, God sometimes taps you on the shoulder and says He needs you for a little while. As I said in my previous post, I'm only a mediocre performer, and yet He still borrows my fingers once and again. Yesterday my father-in-law told me that at his church they will be looking for a pianist soon. I've subbed there, and it's a small and low-key congregation. With some practice, I could be up to the job, and I might even learn some organ, too. I really don't want to leave St. Mary's, though, so we'd probably go to the 9 am service, then Steve and children would stay for Sunday School, while I went to the in-laws' church to play, then they would come get me. So is this really something I want to do? It's that age-old question of whether it's truly God's call or my own will. This is a toughie.

4) I got to read in church today. It was one of my favorite passages, from my favorite prophet: Isaiah 55:12: You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. So many pieces have been written with this text, and when I was standing at the lectern, it was all I could do to not sing the words! That often happens with me and Isaiah.

A Terrible Journey

At my daughter's piano lesson last night, her teacher (whom we adore) declared that K is at the beginning of "a terrible journey." I had not thought of the burden he was referring to described quite that way, but after our discussion, I think he is right.

K is a talented musician. I've made this assessment trying to be as unbiased as possible. I've been a pianist my whole life (including the first 5 years where my musical education was less formal and more familial), am the daughter of two wonderful musicians, one professional, and I've been a piano teacher for quite a while. Believe me, I've experienced the spectrum of musical giftedness. Me, I consider myself a mediocre performer, but I do have a good and critical ear. K is talented. The point her teacher was making was that because of her talent, she can get by and have a decent lesson or performance without much effort. But should she?

Do we all have those times? I could get decent grades without killing myself over assignments or reading the text. I could have an ok performance with just a little practice. How many of us had the teacher who said that we'd be great, if only we'd just apply ourselves? Sound familiar? Then I think back on my college days, and how much more I should have made of those years if only I had worked a little harder and played a little less. One could argue that there is value in play, sure, but not so much in this case.

Tim the Marvelous Piano Teacher called this bad stewardship. (He is also a Christian.) This was a new concept to me. God gifted us with music. He placed it in our hands like a fragile bird, closed our fingers around it, looked into our eyes, and asked us to please take good care of it--indeed, to make it even better (see the parable of the talents.) Or our family motto, from Luke 12:48, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded."

Sure, we could skate by, or keep what has been given to us intact. By most standards, keeping what we've been given in good shape, and returning it as we found it, would be considered responsible and good. But as Christians, we are on a terrible, wonderful journey. We are to be grateful for our gifts, which, in K's case, is music (and so much more). Then we are to continually, joyously challenge ourselves to do better than good enough. Thank you, Tim, for teaching us that lesson, and thank you, God, for putting Tim in our lives so that we might learn.

Make the World Go Away

There are times in a mommy's life when she wishes time would stop. I just had one of those moments.

Baby (21 months, big toddler boy) was having difficulty falling asleep. I attribute it to the light outside. Although it is nearly 8 pm, we're at a higher latitude and so it doesn't start getting dark until later. I went in his room, whereupon he asked for a book, which means he wants to be read to. Normally I would be happy to oblige, but it's 2 hours past his bedtime and the child doesn't need more stimulation. I picked him up out of his crib, sat in the glider (thanks, Dad, still using it!), and cradled his precious, sweaty head to my shoulder. He was silent and calm for a long time. When I lifted my head to see if he was asleep, he met my gaze and smiled his big toothy smile. I kissed his nose and his cheeks and his lips, and he made smacky-kissy sounds in return. I whispered in my sing-sing voice, "I love you," and he sung back, "I loo!"

His body relaxed, and for 15 beautiful minutes I rocked him, silently prayed for him, and worked in earnest to commit every single moment to everlasting memory. I know it's a cliche, but truly these days go so quickly. My little girl will be 9 this month, and in church today the lay eucharistic minister whispered to me, "you have a young lady on your hands." She's right: overnight, it seems, my little baby girl is halfway to 18. Next week she heads to overnight camp, 6 days far away from us. She is self-assured, confident, funny, smart, and marvelous. If I were 9, I would want to be her best friend. Instead, I have the honor of mothering her and her brother, and I thank God every day for that gift.

Yes, I'm blogging about THIS

Excuse me? Why, yes, that IS me, the one with the clean refrigerator! How nice of you to notice. Oh, it was nothing. Nothing, plus one SOS pad, two rags, endless paper towels, a scrubber sponge, and two garbage bags full of old food. Other than that, it was nothing. Oh, and 45 minutes out of my life. Hello Clorox, goodbye salmonella!

Now to rid that fridge of those Henry's...

I don't want Nana to die. I know she's not on death's door, but she's now in her 80's, and each health scare brings with it more and more serious repercussions. This last time, she was very confused, and Mom thought she had had another TIA (mini-stroke). Nope. It was a urinary tract infection, and at her age, apparently, massive confusion is another side-effect. Even a few days after she was hospitalized, she still couldn't tell us the year or the name of her ex-husband, my grandfather, the father of her 5 children and spouse of 35 years.

Nana is very competitive, and will knock your ball out of the park in croquet with no apologies. She has an acidic wit, and can cut deeply if it's directed at you. She started a preschool in Ohio that is still going strong, 50 years later. She is funny, strong, devoted, fashionable, and my nana. She was always nicer to me than to my brother, adding to my forever feeling guilty over his getting the raw end of things.

She's a complicated woman, and I love her very much. I've never lost anyone I love, which probably adds to my fear of losing her. With all the craziness, I know she loves me very much, and not just because I'm the mother of her only two great-grandchildren. Every time I see her, I feel like there is a little bit less of her here with us. One day, she'll be all the way gone.

Grateful

Today, I am feeling so grateful for so many things.

1. I am very glad I work only part time. I'm healthier, my family is less harried, and we had time to take a bike ride after school yesterday.

2. I'm grateful for the sunshine today! It was KED's Brownie's pool party today, and it was actually warm. Since I had to be the one mommy in the pool (due to my toddler wanting to play in the "bath"), at least I wasn't freezing.

3. I get to see my good friend Kara on Saturday with my other buddies, Shelly and Valerie! Yipee!

4. Thank heavens I don't live in Cedar Rapids like poor Kara and the rest.

5. I'm so pleased that KED has had another successful year at school. Tomorrow is her last day of 3rd grade, and while I have some frustrations at what wasn't taught or attended to this year, she feels darn good about her year.

I'm Home, Alive, Dry, and Famous!

I spent last weekend in Madison, Wisconsin with my oldest and best friend, Ruthie. We had a great, great time, and oh my gosh, we laughed like nuts! It felt so good to be myself again. Here's a quickie-poo synopsis of my weekend:

Friday
After flying all night, I arrived safe and sound. We played with her precious boys whom I absolutely, hopelessly adore, went out to dinner, and then she and I went to see Sex & the City. I got to drink a cosmo in the theatre. Can we please bring a place like that here?

Saturday
Stardom. We went to see What D'ya Know at the U of W Madison campus. Lo and behold, the host picked lil ole ME to interview in the first hour! And yes, that's RUTHIE you hear in the 2nd hour playing the quiz!!! We're NPR divas! We had to fight off the throngs of fans the whole rest of the day.

Later in the day, I was treated to a tornado warning. Truly I was only beginning to get the full midwestern experience. I was giddy, they were blase. Why on earth weren't they more excited about this?

Sunday
Because then they have to deal with weather like this:
That's right, my friends: flooding. Roads were filled with water, cars were floating by. Somehow the very courageous Ruthie managed to get me to the airport, circumventing the many washed-out roads. It took 3 hours. It was NOT fun.

All in all, it was a fun, warm, funny, nurturing, dramatic trip. I was so glad I went! It was totally worth it. In the meantime, my prayers are with those left in the midwest dealing with these floods. When your life is truly affected, your perspective changes. Ruthie, I hope your carpets dry out soon!

49 Things

This is from Sibyl, and I thought I would post it here, since the creative spark hasn't hit me recently.

50 Things.

1. Do you like bleu cheese?
Oh, yes

2. Have you ever smoked heroin?My gosh, no!
3. Do you own a gun?I personally do not own a gun. I suspect my spouse has one hidden in the garage somewhere, though, and that really freaks me out.

4. Your favorite song right now?"New Soul" by Yael Naim

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?
No, I like having problems solved.

6. What do you think about hot dogs?I like them, as long as I don't think too much about what they're made of.

7. Favorite Christmas song?Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence. Give me goosebumps.

8. What do you like to drink in the morning?Sugar free vanilla, non-fat, 140 degree latte. (High maintenance? Me?) Except in the summer, then it's straight-up iced tea.

9. Can you do push ups?Yes

10. How much money is in your bank account?enough

11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?1. My ring that I always wear on my right hand that Steve made for me with Kathryn's birthstone (which my father gave to me). 2. My necklace with Benjamin's birthstone that Steve had made for me for my last birthday.

12. Favorite hobby?Travelling, or quilting.

15. One trait you hate about yourself?To lazy to excercize vigorously every day

16. Middle Name?Elizabeth. Like the town in New Jersey

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment?-Madison was so much fun!
-I hope the link to the radio show is up and running now so I can hear myself tonight.
-My eyes are so tired.

18. Name 3 things you bought yesterday?
-A pink cowboy hat
-Water for the plane
-Wine on the plane

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink?water, lattes, Caffeine Free Diet Coke

20. Current worry right now?Ben's teeth are starting to look like he's a bottle-drinker, and it's going to be hard to get him off the bottle.

21. Current hate right now?Being tired today.

22. Favorite place to be?
Wherever my children are.

23. How did you bring in the New Year?At the Johnson's house, with the Lloyds and another family.

24. Where would you like to go?
West Africa, especially the Congo

25. Name three people who will complete this?Valerie. Maybe Ruthie

26. Do you own slippers?
Abso-bloomin-lutely. I really dislike bare feet on bare floors.

27. What kind of shirt are you wearing?a light green striped light sweater with a matching tank underneath

28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?Never tried it. I do like flannel sheets, though.

29. Can you whistle?Yes, one note, with great concentration and effort. 30. Favorite color?Probably blue. Or red.

31. Would you be a pirate?Nah.

32. What songs do you sing in the shower?Rise and shine and give God the glory glory...

33. Favorite girl's name?Kathryn

34. Favorite boy's name?Benjamin

35. What's in your pocket right now?Keys and mascara

36. Last thing that made you laugh?Just about anything that Ruthie said this weekend.

37. Best bed sheets as a child?Bambi sheets. Which I still have.

38. Worst injury you've ever had?Last year's broken leg.

39. Do you love where you live?Steilacoom is the best place in the world. I love it. I love the people and the beaches and everything.

40. How many tvs do you have in your house?2

41. Who is your loudest friend?Steve. He's not obnoxious usually, but he has a really loud speaking voice, and he's content with lots of sounds going on around him (radio + ukelele + Kathryn on the piano + tv = crazy Amy)

42. How many dogs do you have?1 German Shepherd named Sidda Lee (points for you if you know where that name came from)

43. How many cats do you have?none, just our 3 angel kitties in heaven.

44. What is your favorite TV show?Lost

45. What is your favorite candy?Smarties or Sour Patch Kids

46. What is your favorite Sports Team?Mariners

47. What song do you want played at your funeral?The entire Durufle Reqiuem

48. What were you doing 12 AM last night?Settling in at home after getting back from Wisconsin.

49. What was your first thought as you awoke this morning?Yay! I'm waking up next to my little girl, who is waking me with kissies all over my face!