Just like Lydia

Lydia is now officially a 7 year old! In the last year, she's started reading the Book of Mormon on her own, lost 3 baby teeth, learned to ride her bike, played in a soccer league for the first time, finished 1st grade and found a little buddy in her brother Carver. We just love her fabulous laugh, the way she cares about others and wants to do what's right.

She had a great birthday party - it was horses this year and turned out pretty cute, coming from me who's missing the "horse-loving gene." I just never had that phase! Anyway, we debated on inviting a couple boys to her party but in the end, I chickened out and did another girl party. Don't ask me why I agonize about things like that! Here's the cake she wanted:



It was an adaptation from a Family Fun idea for a pink version. I wasn't sure how to handle the mane in ours, but in the end Lydia was happy and that's what matters. She was a sweetie about thanking me for all I did/made for the party. I kill myself trying to save a few dollars and wonder why birthdays stress me out! This year was better, but I'm still learning. :)

Her Grandma and Grandpa E. came in town and we had the best day, going to the library for more books, eating McDonalds and playing at the park on a nice sunny day. We had hot dogs, french fries and watermelon for dinner, brownies and ice cream for dessert. The day suited Lydia perfectly. It was simple and straight forward and low-key, nothing fancy. She got a "just like me" American Girl doll (from G&G and us) and was so surprised and excited. Here she is opening the dog that goes with it, Coconut, which her Grandma H gave her.



And here she is with her new doll in their matching shirts. Happy birthday to our Lyd-dogaloni!

Sunday Walk

These are the afternoons that I love to live in Seattle. It was good timing because I was thoroughly grossed out by earthworms in our sandbox and baby slugs attaching themselves to the little pop-up playhut the kids play in outside. Last Sunday afternoon we walked down to Rock Creek and it was perfect. Warm, with a cool breeze and so green you could almost sink your teeth into it. The kids complained a little, but we got to see horses and water and flowers and I kept running to catch up after taking too many pictures. Here are some highlights. I just loved seeing Grace play peek-a-boo and the girls talking on the trail.

The Secrets We Keep

The other night Rachael complained that she has no idea what I do for work. The line of questioning that followed suggested she suspected me of involvement in organized crime. In order to clear my name of all such suspicion, I thought it best to offer the following TRUE account.

Last Friday, Serengeti—my employer—held a conference at the Downtown Sheraton in Seattle. It was a huge event. Many of our clients sent their general counsel and legal department managers to learn the finer points of our system and mill around with other Serengeti users. Our client list is a veritable who’s who of multinational corporations (e.g., Nike, Yahoo!, Google, Lockheed Martin, Indymac Bank, Adidas, Esteé Lauder, etc.).

At any rate, Drew (a fellow implementation manager) and I were asked to present on legal budgeting during the first break-out session. To me, discussing budgets at 9:00 a.m. with a room full of jet-lagged attorneys sounded almost as much fun as sitting through High Council Sunday with a 40-pound toddler on your lap.

To compensate, we threw together some low-fi movies using Windows Movie Maker, which (thanks to the supreme inferiority of the product) was far more time consuming than it should have been.

Early Friday morning, I motored down to Seattle, parked in my favorite spot in the Convention Center, and walked the few blocks to the Sheraton. For someone who habitually struggles to find real meaning in work, it was inspiring to see how much these people—intelligent, successful people no less—love our product and our service. Really, it made me proud of my employer and what I do. People loved our skits so much that the VP played the skits for the entire conference in the Grand Ballroom during the luncheon.

After the Summit proper, the company threw a cocktail party on the 35th floor of the hotel. I dutifully choked down some hors d’oeuvres and drank two or three liters of bottled water. It was a typical cocktail party. The interesting part, however, was how many people—normal, intelligent people—came up and asked Drew and I for copies of the video.

One of the two videos, appears below.

the witching hour

If only this video had some heartfelt crying, it would have been perfect. I think Grace was banging on the high chair before I started. Lydia was doing homework, Ellie was listening to a "Standin' Tall" tape, Carver was obviously playing with the light switch and I'm fairly certain I was trying to make dinner. Is there a law that says when mom makes dinner, everyone has to need to be within 5 feet of her and make as many demands as possible?! I have tried so many different tactics to solve the eternal dilemma of "the witching hour" but even movies don't really work. I put one on for Carver, but it's the girls who get sucked in (no matter what kind of movie) and I lose my best helpers, while Carver still comes whining. So that's really not the solution. At best, we do what needs to be done with only mild complaining and an occasionally grouchy mommy. At worst, there is lots of crying, a pretty grouchy mommy and canned chili and toast for dinner. Sound familiar? Any tips? Maybe once school's out in a couple weeks, I'll get a break for the summer - in exchange for moments like this ALL DAY!! Yikes. Time to get planning some fun ideas for these kiddos, whether it warms up around here or not!