The Rest of the Trip

The rest of our time in Seattle was a little more laid back.  We went to church on Sunday.  I had to drop Craig off at the ferry terminal freakishly early Monday morning so he could fly home (sniff, sniff).  Tracy arranged for three teenagers to watch all of our collective children (only five of the eleven kids are mine!) so all the grown-ups could go to our favorite Thai restaurant to celebrate my Dad's 70th birthday. 

The whole group (I was so sad that Craig missed it!)

Birthday Dad, with his two eldest, and Brian

And the rest of us at the other end of the table

My roommate Kathy (the Fabulous) came out to see me.  She brought Hayley, who will be roommates with Camille at BYU some day!

Camille got to play with Nicole

Ryder, Caleb, and Eliot

We spent quite a bit of time going through some of my Grandma's things.  I got a watch of hers, and her old wallet, and some books.  And it was fun looking at old photos!

An old photo of my Grandpa that my Grandma kept in her wallet

And the inscription on the back, which I love.  I wish I knew what the "Uh Huh" meant...?

An old family portrait-- I'm sitting on my mom's lap

Me in the center, age 4

With my cousin, Anne, probably around age 8?

Tuesday morning, I got up and announced that I absolutely HAD to eat breakfast at the Streamliner Diner.  Tracy very generously offered to watch the kids so Natalie and my Mom and I could all go.  It was the best breakfast EVER, and gave me a nice break from the kids!  Having uninterrupted conversation with other grown-ups is one of my favorite things ever.  (We did bring Nicole with us, but she didn't make a peep the entire time.  She is very different from Camille!)

It had rained all day Monday, so even though it was still cold and gloomy on Tuesday, the absence of rain made it an acceptable day to haul the kids to various parks.  That afternoon, Natalie and I took them all (except Kendra, who wasn't feeling well) to Fay Bainbridge first.  We'd just barely arrived when a bald eagle flew right over us!

Someone else had already built this great fort

I guess Nicole was all the sunshine we needed on this grey and blustery day!

Camille wanted me to pick her up

Bentley throwing rocks

And looking grumpy with a giant stick

So then Colton also needed a picture of himself holding a giant stick

Next we went to Bay Hay & Feed to look at their baby chicks (I resisted the urge to buy myself another shirt).  And then we headed over to Battle Point Park to play for a bit more.  Then Natalie stayed at the house with all the girls (Camille & Nicole, and Kendra who was still sick) while my parents took me, Tracy, and the boys out to dinner at Isla Bonita.  We got everyone in bed, and then I finally took my turn staying home while everyone else went out and got ice cream at Mora.  They brought me back a chocolate-peanut butter-oreo milkshake, so that was amazing.

And then I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to download the Kindle book for my Dad that I bought him for Christmas.  Two phone calls to Amazon customer service, and after buying the book three times, we finally had it.  Sheesh.  Am I that bad at technology, or does Amazon just not want my Dad reading about Hamilton???  (In my defense, I had no trouble getting the book I got for my Mom onto her Kindle.)

Wednesday was the day to fly out.  My parents had to leave on the 5:25 ferry, so I got up around 4:45 to see them off.  Then I spent the rest of the morning packing.  If you were reading this post closely, you would have noticed that Craig left on Monday, which meant I was the only grown up available to fly my kids home.  Craig had offered to take some of the older kids with him so I wouldn't have so many to deal with (and so they wouldn't miss so much school) but I figured I'd have better luck with Bentley and Kendra helping me than trying to manage Camille and Colton alone.  So I just kept all of them.

I did insist on Tracy coming to the airport with me-- I just didn't see how I could return the rental car and get our bags checked without one other grown up.  Tracy made the kids do exercises while I returned the car:

She got us all the way to security, and then watched in horror as something on my hands set off their sensors (my only guess is pretty convaluted: Camille had been climbing all over me on the ferry, and her shoes were still muddy from the park, and I'd been brushing mud off my pants.  Maybe the dirt had fertilizer in it?).  I was ushered into a tiny room with my three youngest, while another TSA worker was assigned to watch Bentley and Kendra, and then I was given the most thorough pat-down EVER.  We're talking, the woman told me to hold onto my pants so she didn't accidentally pull them down!  Yikes.

The TSA workers were all very nice about it, though-- I think they felt really bad putting me through that.  They helped carry all my stuff around as this went on.  Twenty minutes later, they finally let me go, I waved one last good-bye to Tracy (and flashed her a thumbs up, she was looking so worried) and we headed to our gate.

I broke one of my usual rules, and let the kids run around and be crazy at the airport.  I figured they were in for 8 hours of sitting, they needed any chance they could get to move around.  I'm sure they were annoying someone, but this time I just didn't care.  

This picture might be worth zooming in on so you can see Colton's expression, mid-stride

The airline moved some guy so we could all sit together.  He was very polite about it all, and they put him in an exit row, so that was some nice karma at work. 

Colton and Camille in my row

Bentley, Kendra, and Ryder behind us

Look, I'm here, too!

As we soon as we took off and got above the clouds, we could see Mt. Rainier, which had been hiding for most of our trip, so it was nice to get a good view!

I'm not gonna lie-- that first flight back to Charlotte was LONG.  Camille was better than she'd been for the trip out (it helped that we were flying during the day, not late at night).  But it still wasn't easy.  Especially since she figured out how to unbuckle herself and wanted to run all over.  The only thing that kept her happy was letting her look at pictures on my phone.  So we did that a lot.  For six hours.

When we got to Charlotte, the people waiting at the gate were all super nice, I guess because they know we're all going to the same small town.  They smiled indulgently as we recharged all our electronics and as Camille and Colton rolled all over the floor (gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!).  The lady at the gate offered to let me board first, but I assured her the last thing we needed was extra time sitting on a plane.  We boarded last, instead.

Small plane, only two seats across

I love Bentley and Colton's matching faces in these...

Camille was thrilled to be on another plane!

But a little food and a chance to look at Mommy's phone and she was happy again!

We landed after midnight, and Craig was there waiting for us.  I handed all the kids off to him and went back to get our luggage and carseats.  It felt good to spend a few minutes standing alone.

It felt even better to be home again.



P.S. The day after we got home, I took Kendra to the doctor (turned out she'd had walking pneumonia, poor thing!  but luckily antibiotics cleared it up in no time!).  The only appointment they had was in the afternoon, so I had to take all the kids.  Craig apologized to me that I had to do that, but I admitted, "After flying across the country, taking them to the doctor wasn't all that big of a deal!

And a Busy Saturday

(Still on our Seattle trip here)

The next morning we, once again, got up early, got everyone dressed nicely and headed out by 9:30am.  Whew.  (And we did this knowing we'd have to do it for church the next day, also.  Rough way to spend our first three days!  But at least the time difference worked in our favor...)  This time we had the kind of weather you'd expect in Seattle in February-- cold, wet, and drizzling.  We took the ferry into Seattle and I managed to follow my Mom all the way to the cemetery (with a quick detour past the brick home my Grandma had lived in while my Dad was in high school up until when I was a little girl and she sold it and bought her condo).  The graveside service was short, and just had family and Bishop Cook present. 

My sisters and I sang again (different song, this time, and no violin or piano).  We had a few moments where people could share thoughts about my Grandma and it was quite touching to hear both Craig and Brian say nice things about her.  Craig gave the dedicatory prayer, and then they lowered the coffin into the grave.  I've never been at a service where this was done before, but I actually really like it.  I mean-- it was sad and I was sobbing.  But it gave the whole thing a very nice sense of closure, and I appreciated that.  Then we were each given tulips to drop into the grave.

And it was all over.  I pointed out to everyone that there was a cherry blossom tree blooming-- certainly not normal for that time of year, but a lovely token.  And we climbed into our cars to leave.

And then, because Saturday was ALSO the day that Kendra turned 9, and because we wanted there to be more than just a funeral for her special day, we drove across town to where the Museum of Flight is located, right by Boeing airfield.  And we toured all over the museum for as long as we could handle.

Tracy had done Kendra's hair extra pretty for her birthday

Camille quickly made friends with this astronaut

Kendra and Caleb

Just a few of the planes in their newest exhibit (which, unfortunately, was outside and cold!)

Craig with a Blue Angels jet

Samuel inside one of the original AirForce Ones (and looking just as crazy as any president!)

Leah and I taking a quick break before we head out to the parking lot

Bentley being weird (no, he didn't hurt himself)

Camille learning weirdness at Bentley's feet

And Colton just being cute, also at Bentley's feet

Our little clan

By the time we finally headed back to Bainbridge, we were all so exhausted.  But hopefully it was a good day for Kendra, despite the rather gloomy start.  At the house, my Dad had ordered pizza, so it was piping hot when we got home, and then Tracy had made a cake so we got to sing to Kendra and all that.  We'd sent one present ahead, so she got to open that, too.  It was a water bottle for pets, our way of telling her that we were getting her a pet bunny.  As you can imagine, this caused much rejoicing!

Another good day.

The Funeral

I was worried about getting everyone ready in time for the Friday morning funeral, but we were still on east coast time, and I was up and showered by 6am (I even got hot water!).  We made it to the church in plenty of time and let the kids play with their cousins in the nursery room during the viewing. 

Bentley and Samuel practice their origami before we leave for the church

Colton and Eliot

l-r: Samuel, Kendra, Caleb (under the table), Theo, Ryder

Aunt Tracy reading to Camille

Eliot, Theo, and Colton

Some of my kids came to see her, too.  Some of them didn't want to.  And that was fine.  Nicole (Natalie's 2-year-old) just about broke all our hearts by whispering, "Shh!  Gramma's sleeping..."

Family friends came and gave us hugs-- the Hogans, the Cruzats, the Keyes...  People who have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  We had a brief prayer service, and then followed the casket to the chapel for the actual service.

As is often the case with Mormon funerals, this one felt like more of a celebration of life than a sad occasion.  My parents and my aunt all spoke, and my sisters and I sang "Abide with Me, Tis Eventide."  And then our bishop/funeral director gave the closing remarks where he talked about his last visit with my Grandma and read the story of Christ raising Lazarus from the dead.  As they rolled the coffin out to the hearse and we followed, Ryder slipped in front of me and then began doing a crazy dance and singing to himself, "Oh yeah, I'm in the front of the line!  Oh yeah!"  He was quiet enough that I don't think anyone else noticed, but I suddenly found myself trying very hard to not start laughing.  (And I'm already someone who struggles with laughing at inappropriate times, so we know where Ryder gets it from!)

It was a surprisingly beautiful and sunny day, especially for February in Seattle.  And that was really lovely.  Apparently as we were standing in the parking lot, my aunt noticed an old-fashioned Mustang drive by and that made her smile, since my Grandma drove Mustangs for years. 

The Relief Society had put together a wonderful lunch for us, so we got time to sit and talk with all those family friends who had come.  The food was so good-- especially after a day of traveling and eating only junky snacky foods, eating REAL food tasted amazing.  They'd also given us real plates and silverware to eat with-- such a small thing, but it made the meal so much more enjoyable.  I need to remember that some day when I'm tasked with providing a funeral lunch for someone. 

I got to hold Luke & Kat's baby, Maya, in her beautiful dress

And Craig got to hold Rachael and Ian's baby, Nolan

Eventually we figured we had better move along and let everyone continue with their day.  We thanked everyone, loaded flowers into cars, and headed home.  At home, we made the kids play outside and ate leftovers.  Our neighbors came to say Hi, and their visit wiped out Craig and Ian, who both conked out on the couch.  So of course, I took a picture: 

Sleepy brothers-in-law!

It had been a very long, but very good day.

The Trip to Seattle

I suspect that Craig was somewhat horrified when I told him we would ALL be flying to Seattle for Grandma Bentley's funeral.  Because my sisters and I were Grandma's only grandchildren, I felt like I needed all of us to be there for her funeral.  I couldn't rely on my cousins and their children to fill out the chapel a bit, like I did for my Grandma Hansen.  (And it turns out that when you outlive all your friends, there are much less people who can attend your funeral.)

Fortunately for our bank account, my Dad and aunt used funds from my Grandma's estate to pay for everyone's travel expenses.  We couldn't have done it without their generosity.

The other complication in all this was that we already had plans to go to Great Wolf Lodge for a couple days to take a mini-break from winter (this will have to be the subject of another blog post).  We were leaving Sunday, returning Tuesday evening.  The funeral was planned for Friday, so that gave me Wednesday to do all the laundry and get all prepared, and Thursday to pack and then fly.  Whew!  And, just to make sure I was really on my A-game, a friend from out of town had an interview in Charlottesville on Wednesday, so I also spent a couple hours playing tour guide to him!  Double whew!

Anyway, I spent those two days a madwoman of preparations and planning.  And then I spent all Thursday morning packing, cleaning, packing some more, and cleaning some more.  The stupid airline was charging $25 per suitcase, so I was determined to keep things to the bare minimum, but when you have to dress all seven of you up nicely for three days of your trip, that's still a lot of stuff!  Plus all activities and food for everyone for the plane, and a safari trip in Africa might have been less complicated.

But I did it!  I loaded the car, picked the kids up from school, picked Craig up from work, and we were off to the airport!  I'd also dressed up all the kids in their bright orange UVA shirts, hoping this would make them less likely to get lost at the airport.

When I purchased our tickets and the airline lets you choose your seat (but really, they're mostly trying to coerce you into paying for the nicer seats), there were only 6 seats to choose from left on the small plane from Charlottesville to Charlotte, NC.  That had me completely stressed out, and we got to the airport even earlier than normal in case this was going to be a problem.  It turned out to not matter and the airline was very nice about making sure we were all seated together.  But the extra time meant that Craig could run back out to the car and get Ryder's sweatshirt when he left it there (the ONE warm item I packed for each kid, and my 6-year-old decides to leave his in the car!!!!).  So that was good.  And it was good that the Charlottesville airport is tiny, so going through security twice wasn't a big deal-- we couldn't have done that at a big airport, and Ryder would have been very cold in Seattle.

Ryder makes himself comfortable on the floor of the Charlotte airport

The trip out was hard.  We were arriving in Seattle around 9:30pm which is after midnight east coast time.  Camille fought against sleeping on the plane and spent a couple hours of the flight just crying in my arms.  So that sucked.  But Ryder and Colton slept great and Bentley and Kendra were wonderful and made friends with some kids across the aisle from them.  And I had just gotten Anna Kendrick's memoir Scrappy Little Nobody from the library, so that kept me entertained.

When I flew to LA for my other Grandma's funeral, everything went wrong-- my first flight was delayed, which made me miss my connecting flight.  On the return trip, I ended up spending two extra hours on the plane (AFTER the six hour flight!!!!) because of weather issues and then the subsequent back-up that this had caused.  Which, then, once again, made me miss my connecting flight.

So while the trip to Seattle was hard, everything actually went very smoothly.  But flying across the country with a 2-year-old is always hard.

Craig started out with these two, but Colton migrated over to my lap to sleep

Camille had just turned two, so she got her own seat, although she spent most of the flight on my lap.  I worked very hard to not let her squish Colton, who was also on my lap.  Fun!

We landed in Seattle, found all our luggage (some of it had gotten set aside, causing me to momentarily panic), actually caught a shuttle that was just sitting there waiting for us to push our way on (everyone was SUPER nice about making room, giving up seats to the kids, and helping haul our suitcases on board-- I love Seattle people), and picked up our rental car.  Punched the ferry terminal address into the GPS and we were off!  We even caught the next ferry without any trouble, so that was nice.  I had been fearing that we'd pull in just in time to see it leave and that would have made me cry, so I'm glad that didn't happen.

We'd made it!  We were home.

A Tribute to my Grandmother

I loved both of my Grandmas very much, but where my Grandma Hansen lived in California and I usually only got to see her for a couple weeks out of the year, Grandma Bentley lived just a hop, skip, and a jump away in Seattle and was a much bigger part of my life.  We were also her only grandchildren, so she was able to really spoil us properly.

I'm only now beginning to appreciate several things about my grandmother: she was an incredibly independent woman, especially for being born in 1915.  My grandfather was a career Naval officer, and was out to sea a lot.  Grandma had both her children while he was gone (a fact that she bemoaned, mostly because she worried that the hospital would think she wasn't married!).  But because of that, she was always an incredibly self-sufficient woman.  She served in our church as the Stake Young Women's President for quite some time, and during that time became acquainted with the Stake President, President Nash (the man who would later marry Craig and I in the Seattle temple).  He was also a dentist (I guess I could just as easily call him Dr. Nash), and he suggested she work for him as a dental hygienist.  He trained her himself, and she worked for decades, first for him and then for Dr. Thomas.  When she got quite old, she retired for a few weeks and then decided she was bored and went right back to work.  I think she continued working well into her 80s.

My Grandma and Grandpa joined the church when my dad was eleven.  Ironically, they'd lived in Utah but never paid any attention to the local religion.  It was when they were living in California that missionaries began visiting them, and they remembered that they'd been given a Book of Mormon right before leaving Utah!  They took the decision to be baptized very seriously, investigating the Church for over a year before finally committing.  (My Grandpa was a smoker, and used to smoke in the car on the way to church every week.  I wonder what the members must have thought of him at the time!  When the missionaries fully explained the Word of Wisdom, he simply quit cold turkey.)  Once they joined, they always stayed active in the church, my Grandpa served as the bishop of the married ward at UW, where they visited every new mother in the hospital.  They both helped out with the dedication of the Seattle Temple, and my Grandma was a temple worker for several years.


My grandfather's death in 1980 was sudden and unexpected, and my Grandma never stopped grieving for him.  I remember as a small child being warned not to talk about Grandpa around her, because it would make her too sad.  As she got older she would talk about him some, but mostly just to tell us how much she missed him.  I remember once when I told her that I was sure he missed her even more, to which she responded, "Oh, he couldn't possibly!"  But her fierce independence served her well through all those years of being a widow.  Where some women from her generation relied on their husbands to pay the bills and take care of them, my grandmother always did fine on her own.  (After living in a couple very expensive assisted living homes for ten years, I was impressed by how much money she still left to my Dad and Aunt!)

My Dad nearly died when he was 26, and my mother and Grandma shared a room while he was recovering, watching over him and praying for his recovery.  If you think brain surgery is scary now, I can't imagine how it was in the 1970s!  This time of stress created a very solid foundation upon which my Mom and Grandma were able to build a wonderful relationship.  I really only appreciated this once I was married and saw in my married friends just how fraught mother/daughter-in-law relationships can be.  (I feel more and more lucky that I love my mother-in-law and enjoy spending time with her!)

Grandma was also super classy.  She loved to shop at Nordstrom, and once gave us all beautiful cashmere scarves and gloves from there.  (I happened to see them on display later and was shocked at how much she'd spent on us!)  She always dressed nicely and she liked to take us shopping and find clothes that we would like.  She was the ONLY one who could find dresses that Natalie (who was quite the tomboy as a kid) was willing to wear.  When I came home from my mission my clothes were practically rags (turns out biking in extreme temperatures and humidity is NOT a good look!), she helped outfit me in decent clothes again.  (How many 22-year-olds would trust their Grandma's fashion advice?  But I trusted my Grandma, and I headed back to BYU looking great.)  Having said all this, I don't want you to think that my Grandma was a "cool" grandma-- she wasn't dramatic, flamboyant Auntie Mame type or anything-- she just had excellent tastes and wasn't afraid to spend money on quality items.

Her home was always decorated beautifully, often with things from the Philippines and China, places she'd lived with my Grandpa before WWII broke out.  And it was ALWAYS spotless.  Grandma felt that if she found dirt while cleaning, she must have waited too long to clean.  (She also made a point of always helping out in the kitchen at church potlucks... because she wanted to know who brought what.  Some people's homes weren't clean enough to eat out of, in her opinion.)  Once, when some friends came to visit, they held up two leaves they'd found in her otherwise perfect yard!

We would usually take turns spending a week with Grandma in the summer.  In addition to the shopping trips, we would see lots of movies.  (I still have a guilty thrill at the fact that she took me to see The Firm, even though it was rated R.  My Mom was probably horrified...)  We would swim in the pool at her condo while she kept an eye on us.  We would visit her neighbors so she could show us off.  She would take us out to dinner and let us watch MTV (this was back when MTV actually showed music videos, and my family didn't have cable, so that was very exciting).  And she always had a bowl of Hershey Kisses sitting on her coffee table that we could snack on.

Bentley was my Grandma's first great-grandchild, and I was immensely pleased to show him off to her.  She played peek-a-boo with him and they both laughed together and it was a beautiful moment.  When we traveled to Seattle for her 100th birthday, I was able to show off my 3-month-old Camille to her, and she sat holding her so pleased. 

Peek-a-boo

Kiss from Grandma

Four generations!

Adding Craig and Rachael to the picture.  I like that Grandma is too busy smiling at Bentley to look at the camera

It is not in most children's nature to be appreciative or grateful for anything, and I'm sure I took my Grandma for granted.  As I cried and watched her coffin be lowered into the ground, it hit me just how lucky I was to have this amazing woman be such an important part of my life.  She was kind and generous.  She loved us.  She loved being with us.  And she was a wonderful example of how a woman can be kind and strong, able and hard working.

Saying Goodbye

As often happens in life, I feel like my Grandma's death was a slow, easing-into-things sort of affair.  So much so that it really does feel like a journey rather than a single event.  My sister Tracy has been living on Bainbridge Island these last few months, and made a point of visiting my Grandma a lot.  Sometimes when Grandma was really aware, Tracy would FaceTime with us so we could all say Hi, which was really nice.  About a month ago when she did this, I thought to myself, This might be the last time we talk.  And I was grateful to have had such a nice chat with my 101-year-old grandmother.  I was glad she got to wave at all of my children.

Shortly after that conversation, Grandma had several days where she could not be woken up or fed.  Tracy told me this while she was there visiting, and I could hear Grandma moaning in the background while we spoke.  And this was upsetting-- she sounded so forlorn.  It was nice knowing that Tracy was there for her.  I expected any day to get a phone call, but it didn't come.  Grandma woke up a little bit and ate some yogurt, but then continued to mostly sleep.  Tracy had to go out of town for a few days-- she worried about leaving my grandma, but my parents assured her that she needed to keep living her own life.  (They've had this conversation with themselves every time they've gone out of town for the last ten years, so they were used to this concern.)

A week later, my Mom called on Camille's birthday and I assumed she was calling to sing to Camille.  But as I was answering, Mom called out to my Dad, "I'm calling Alanna right now" and I immediately knew she had not called for Camille.  I knew that she was calling each of us, one by one, to tell us that Grandma had passed away.

It made us sad at first that Grandma had been alone when she died.  But then several of us realized (almost at the same time) that this was exactly how Grandma would have wanted it.  When we were little and Grandma would come to our house for the holidays, after all the celebrations were over, she always liked to get up early and leave while we were still asleep.  (My Mom actually got after her for this, explaining that we all wanted a chance to say goodbye and were upset by her sudden absence.  So she stopped doing that at the time.)  But Grandma didn't like goodbyes and now that I'm older, I understand that sentiment-- sometimes goodbyes are just a little too much; it can feel better to just slip away and skip that step entirely.

The bishop for the Bainbridge Island ward, Bishop Cook, is also a mortician and he had been visiting my grandma regularly (as a bishop-- not in his funereal capacity!).  He had seen her just the week before and held her hands and prayed with her; he said she wasn't talking much, but had squeezed his hands very tightly during their prayer and at various moments during their conversation.  She knew what was going on.  He had talked with her about how the time would be coming soon when she would be reunited with my Grandfather, who died 36 years ago when I was just one.  She squeezed his hands even tighter at this.  Bishop Cook made an appointment to see her the following Thursday afternoon, and I truly believe that Grandma was pleased that she made things simple for him by passing away that morning, so that he could still come as planned, but for a different reason. 

My Grandma was classy like that.

My parents made arrangements to leave their mission for a few days for the funeral and we were all able to fly home for it.  We were also all there for my Dad's 70th birthday, which felt like another gift from my Grandma to her son.

I'll tell you more soon-- more about Grandma and more about the trip.  But for now I wanted you to understand the length of this journey, and how even though it's very sad, everything seems to have happened exactly as it should have.  And how often can you say that in life?

Happy Birthday, Camille!

She's been acting like it for a while now, but today is the day that Camille officially turns TWO. 

Pretending to sleep is one of their favorite pastimes

This girl.  She's so spunky.  She's so funny.  She can be so fun, but if you cross her-- watch out.  She will not put up with any crap from anyone.

I'm not sure what this game was, but it made me laugh

She is so loved by her siblings, a fact that makes me happier than just about anything else.

Her hair floats around her head like a wild cloud, and there doesn't seem to be much within my power to tame it.  She bosses Colton around and picks fights with him and loves him so much-- they are best friends and worst enemies all the time.

Waiting for the bus on a cold day

She got Bentley to wrap her up all snug

She pops out of her crib in the morning exclaiming, "Iiiiit's morning!" And if I tell her it's nap time, she argues with me by insisting, "Iiiiiiiit's morning!"

Dressed up as Buzz Lightyear

She likes to ask for something and then change her mind, saying, "Ackshwee, no no no..."

Wearing Kendra's soccer medallion.  Because, why not?

Who could have guessed that she was exactly what our family needed?

Sleeping deeply

I love my little Cami-P so very much.  What a wonderful two years it's been!

Interpretation

I was driving around with the radio on a few weeks ago when the DJ announced that up next was "Cake by the Ocean."  I thought she meant, a song by the group Cake called "By the Ocean" and since I like Cake, I was excited to hear it.  But as soon as the vocals began, it was clear that this was not Cake (that guy has such a gravelly voice you can barely call it singing).  So then I thought maybe it was a song called "Cake" by a group called "The Ocean."  Because that would have made sense, too.

It was at least halfway through the song before I realized the song itself was called "Cake by the Ocean."  Punctuation-- it will get you every time, I'm telling you!

Anyway, it's a catchy song and now I seem to hear it all the time, which is fine, since I like it.  But I told Craig that I wasn't sure eating cake by the ocean was a good idea since you'd get sand everywhere.  Craig said that he'd heard that "cake" was supposed to be a euphemism for sex.  Isn't everything, these days?

But I'm pretty sure either way, the sand would be a problem.

Serving a Purpose

I have a vague recollection of refusing to eat my dinner to the point that my Dad finally got angry and sent me to my room.  This happened before my family moved to Bainbridge, so I must have been about four years old.  I sat in my room (in my memory, I was sitting in the dark, although it's very likely that I made that up) until my mother came in with a flashlight and looked down my throat.  Whatever she saw alarmed her enough that she made my Dad take me to the hospital that very night. 

The doctor looked at my throat and determined that my tonsils were indeed enlarged, but he felt they weren't bad enough for a tonsillectomy.  He took off his glove, blew it up like a balloon, and drew a face on it-- the thumb becoming a nose, the fingers crazy hair-- and gave it to me.  I was delighted with my present and went home with my tonsils still intact, ready to show off my balloon to my sisters.  And I assume that my Dad got to feel bad about being so mean to me, something every kid longs for.

I've regretted that doctor's decision ever since.  My tonsils are just huge, nearly the size of golf balls.  And they're prone to getting these nasty little gunky things stuck between them and the wall of my mouth.  Every few weeks, I have to shine a flashlight into the back of my mouth and swipe around to dislodge them.  It leaves me gagging and spitting, while Craig hollers out reminders me that bulimia is not cool.  (Ha ha, Craig.)

Anyway, after my most recent bout of poking and gagging, I was telling Craig that I sure wished I could have my tonsils removed already.  The only purpose they seem to serve is annoying me.  I once begged a BYU doctor to do it, but he just laughed and said there was no way my student health insurance would ever cover it.

I googled those gross things (tonsilloliths or "tonsil stones," but don't look them up-- they're even bigger and grosser on-line!) which led to me googling tonsils in general.  And it turns out that tonsils actually DO serve a purpose! "As part of the immune system, the tonsils fight infection; they are first line of defense in the throat."  "A main function of the tonsils is to trap germs (bacteria and viruses) which you may breathe in.  Proteins called antibodies produced by the immune cells in the tonsils help to kill germs and help to prevent throat and lung infections."

That was especially interesting to learn because I've noticed over the years that one of my superpowers is that I hardly ever get sick.  Sure, I'll get the occasional cold.  And I'm just enough of a hypochondriac that any time there's a tickle in my throat I gear up for something awful to hit me.  But usually it just fades away and I'm fine.  When you consider just how much my kids like to sneeze and cough on me every time they're sick (and between the five of them, someone always seems to have a runny nose or something), it really is kind of remarkable how healthy I am.  All this time I've been cursing them, but my enormous, sometimes gross tonsils are probably why I'm so healthy!

Sorry, tonsils, that I wanted you cut out of the back of my throat!  I guess we can keep working together after all!

Looking Up

I think it's nice that we get the two worst months out of the way right at the beginning of the year.  January, the longer of the two, is all over, and now we've just got to survive a short February before we can move on to March and all its delights!  Nice work, whoever figure out our modern calendar!  I approve!


Am I the only one who feels like I deserve a pat on the back for getting through January?