Swamp Things

Boo! It's Halloween!

2011-11-02T22:07:00.000-05:00

Hard to decide which is my favorite holiday, Halloween or Christmas? Halloween kicks off the holiday season in general, and we go all out in the Marsh household with kid-friendly decorations. We decided to host a party this year--the first party we've had since we moved over a year ago--and had a blast getting our costumes together and setting up the house for a Merry-Not-Scary event. Then on Halloween night, we handed out goodies and went trick-or-treating to our hearts' content!

Amelia is 4!

2011-10-20T17:00:00.003-05:00

Hard to believe my tiny little Amelia is such a big girl. Seems like just yesterday that she was born! We invited a few folks to celebrate at Great County Farms in Bluemont, VA. It was chilly and rainy, though the rain cleared just long enough for the party. So it was muddy and splashy--perfect chance to wear her new rain boots and rain coat.

Homeward Bound

2011-09-30T16:39:00.000-05:00

Quick trip to Memphis to see some of our favorite people! Celebrated Amelia's 4th birthday with the Davisons, Trexlers, Blakes, & Kinneys, as well as all 4 grandparents. Saw Les Miserables at the Orpheum. Enjoyed a perfect late summer evening at the Levitt Shell with Papa, Pa and the Davisons--first dinner at Molly's LaCasita in Overton Square, then the Abigail Washburn/Bela Fleck show under the stars. Fantastic long weekend!
Amelia celebrating her upcoming 4th birthday with Nana and Granna

Birthday girl at Woodland Playground and Shelby Farms

visiting with Bom-Bom just before her 103rd birthday

Rebecca enjoys the swing in Nana and Pa's backyard

Smurf birthday gear for Amelia

seeing Les Miserables at the Orpheum--fantastic show, girls loved it!

Keeping Up with the Marsh-dashians

2011-09-20T16:06:00.000-05:00

We are much more interesting than those over-rated Kardashians, don't you think? Here are a few Fall 2011 images from our northern Virginia adventures--not the stuff of reality shows, just the stuff memories are made of.
First Day of Pre-K, Second Grade & Fourth Grade

New Martin Luther King Memorial on the tidal basin in DC

playing Battleship with Papa on Labor Day weekend

checking out the new American Girl store in Tysons, to get a reading reward for all that summer reading

Sailing the flying scot on the Potomac, one last gasp of summer. Using sailing skills learned at sailing camp in June!

camping in western Maryland

hiking on the Appalachian Trail

Rebecca earns her low blue belt in karate!

How I Spent My Summer

2011-08-27T16:30:00.015-05:00

In addition to our fantastic vacations to the Two Coasts, we spent 2.5 fun-filled months soaking up all our area has to offer. We have a fantastic neighborhood pool, and we went at least 2-3 times per week. The District offers so many awesome things for kids, it was hard to choose. We've done lots of DC things already, so this summer, we saw the National Archives (Declaration of Independence, Constitution, Emancipation Proclamation), the International Spy Museum, the Washington Monument, Georgetown Cupcake (TV show DC Cupcakes is based on this bakery), the Kennedy Center and monuments at night with friends. We spent time with friends from church and from our neighborhood/school. We went to Trivia Night and Vacation Bible School. We went to Kings Dominion amusement park and the Prince William County Fair. The girls and Peter learned to sail. We saw movies, had at-home movie nights and at-home game nights. We tie-dyed shirts and painted pictures. The girls went to two daycamps. We went to baseball games. We grilled out and went camping. Enjoy these photos of our summer adventures!

Up in the Washington Monument--one month later the earthquake would cause the park service to close it indefinitely for repairs

At the pool

Washington Nationals game, with our Sunday School class. Second picture is the girls' sign on the Jumbotron as the Nats win!

Archives

VBS--Peter and I taught the Bible story, using props and costumes, games and sardines (don't ask!)

Prince William County fair--winning the Angry Birds stuffy!

Molly and I went to the Miranda Cosgrove (aka iCarly) concert at Wolftrap

King's Dominion with the Roberds!

Bike rides & swim lessons

Playing tennis together (cutest ball girl ever), Molly's art, and selling lemonade on Memorial day to benefit the Wounded Warrior Project

I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet

2011-08-27T13:57:00.005-05:00

Memphis is built on a major fault line, the New Madrid Fault. For decades, we've heard about how The Big One is coming, a major earthquake leading to mayhem and destruction. Fear-based information runs the show, "sells papers" in old-school terms, and ensures a steady viewership in our age of the 24-hr news channels. When I was a kid, we had quake drills in school. We were scared of earthquakes, tornadoes and fires. I lived in Memphis for a cumulative 20 years and never once felt an earthquake.

This week I did.

In northern Virginia.

I was scrapbooking, a hobby I enjoy and very rarely practice, since it involves lots of set-up time and material preparation, leaves a big mess, and therefore involves a lot of clean-up. A rare DONKAH Day (day off, no kids at home) when the house was already some semblance of "clean" and I felt like I could get away with doing something slightly self-indulgent. In retrospect, I realize Quincy the dog was acting unusual. He was planted firmly on my feet under the table. Every five minutes or so, he would get up, walk around the legs on my chair, and sit back down on my feet. After the third time, I assumed he needed to relieve himself and opened the back door. He was not interested in being outside at all; my feet were all he wanted. There was a low-grade rumble. Big truck going by? Low-flying plane (we live close to a major airport)? Quincy was up like a light. I noticed the chandelier swinging madly overhead. My pictures were dancing on the table, pens fell to the floor. I heard a mild crash upstairs.

In a split second, I realized this was an earthquake. I was taken back to Springdale Elementary School, to the sound of our principal's voice on the crackly announcement system. Racking my brain for which type of "cover" to take: stop, drop & roll? Duck and cover in a little pod on the floor against an inside wall? File outside quickly and in an orderly fashion? Door frame--that was it! Low or high in the building? I was in the middle level of our three-story townhouse, so I figured I'd just stay there. I got over to the door frame of the stairs that lead to the lowest level and arched myself in it, hands covering my head.

The once-protective SuperDog was now in the corner of the living room, howling and running in a circle, as if to say, "I tried to warn you, lady, but now that it's here, you're on your own." By the time I got to the door frame, the rumble had stopped, and I felt a bit silly for even taking cover. I looked outside, to see if there was anything damaged outside. Cars still parked as usual, trees blowing lightly in the breeze, sun shining, birds singing. No big gashes in the earth, no screams for help. Perhaps it wasn't an earthquake after all? The movies--and the warnings of my childhood--painted a very scary picture, and this was not it.

A sign of the times: I immediately logged on to see if this was an earthquake and if others felt it. A "breaking news" story, posted 44 seconds before, confirmed it. Facebook posts from local friends confirmed it. I tried to call Peter, who was driving home from Richmond (closer to the epicenter than I), but the cell service wouldn't go through. Too many other curious and perhaps concerned loved ones trying to connect. My Internet connection slowed down, for the same reason, I guess.

Analysis indicates a 5.8 magnitude earthquake, with an epicenter about 80 miles from here and felt all along the eastern seaboard. Government buildings were evacuated and then closed for the rest of the day--and in some cases, for the next day, too, to check for structural damage. The Washington Monument's stones were cracked, the National Cathedral lost some small decorative spires. No one was hurt or killed. People were a little shaken, but all in all, we were 100% fortunate. If you watched the aforementioned 24-hour news channels, you might think this was a tragic event. Sensationalism rules--and sells. I suppose in some ways it was a near-miss. It could've been bad, but it really really wasn't. Locals here joked about the coverage of it. Here's a picture posted on Facebook and accompanied by comments like "8/23/11: we will never forget" and "so sorry for your loss" and "praying for all those affected." Good for a chuckle!

Where were you for the shake, rattle and roll of 2011?

The Other Coast & Some of Our Favorite Peeps

2011-08-15T16:49:00.008-05:00

The first week in August, we headed to Oregon! Peter's sister and bro-in-law live there with their fantastic son Travis. The cousins had a blast together. We explored Portland's Saturday Market, ate VooDoo Donuts, played in their pool, watched movies, played in the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI), ate yummy salmon, went clamming, tried steamed clams, played in the pool some more, and spent three very relaxing days on the Oregon Coast. Better folks are not to be found than the Dixons. Can't wait to figure out what our next adventure together will be!

Route 12 North!

2011-07-20T16:07:00.003-05:00

We packed up the van and headed to the Outer Banks in North Caroline for a week-long, much-needed beach vacation. Our friends from Memphis joined us for a grand total of 6 adults and 8 kids. We had a lovely beach house, within walking distance of both the beach at Corolla and the neighborhood pool. The best part of the schedule was having NO schedule. We'd wake up in the morning, whenever we wanted to, and the kids would ask "What are we doing today?" My gleeful reply? "I don't know!" "When are we going to the beach?" "As soon as your flip flops are on!" The kiddos played in the sand and the waves all morning and in the pool after lunch. We played board games and watched movies. We climbed lighthouses, explored salt-water marshes, drove the length of Route 12 to the south, enjoyed the aquarium, played pirates on a ship, learned how the earliest European settlers lived, went parasailing (me) and sailing (Pete and girls). We grilled out and ate out, had tilefish caught that very day and blue cupcakes for the 4th of July. Good stuff. Good, good stuff.

Pictures here!

Steppin' Out With My Baby

2011-06-27T14:49:00.004-05:00

Peter and I decided to try to schedule some one-on-one time with each of the kids. When there are 3 kids and 2 working parents, life gets hectic sometimes and spending quality time with our ever-growing daughters becomes more and more difficult. When my dad started plotting a trip to Buffalo, NY, to see Navy ships similar to the one my grandfather served on in WWII, we figured this was a weekend trip we could take one daughter on. There would be time in the car to really connect, to listen to her. Initially, Peter planned to go, to take Rebecca, but his work schedule interfered, so I signed up to take his place. Dad and Rebecca and I stopped in Pittsburgh for a Pirates game versus our beloved Red Sox (the crowd was about 50-50 for each team!), then drove on to Buffalo to tour the ships.

We met up with various DC-area Walshes, my cousins and their children, and my Uncle Bailey, for a whirlwind summer adventure. Dad had transcribed and copied some of the many letters my Papa had written to his wife and children while he was on board. A banker by training, older than many other drafted soldiers, and a gentle man by nature, Papa's beautiful letters illustrate his mixed emotions about proudly serving his country while pining for his family back in Tennessee. It was wonderful to walk on a ship just like his, to imagine this man penning words of love and duty day in and day out. Rebecca seemed to really relish this experience, showing genuine interest in the parts of the ship and drinking in the one-on-one attention, walking hand-in-hand with Papa and talking more than usual with no other siblings to steal her thunder.

After our day in Buffalo, we drove up to Niagara Falls. I don't even need to describe this place in words, just look at the pictures.

Rounding out our weekend, Rebecca and I made the trip home alone. We drove for several hours, listening to music, talking about school and friends, the past and the future. Reading Papa's letters prompted Rebecca to ask about war, about love, and about my own childhood memories, especially those of Papa himself. She fell asleep about 2 hours from home, and in the silence, I thanked God for the opportunity to be TRULY WITH my daughter, to teach her and to learn from her. Good stuff.

End of Another Era

2011-06-26T16:39:00.004-05:00

Well, maybe not "era," but school year. Various events in May and early June signaled the end of the regular year. Both Molly and Rebecca had end-of-the-year school parties. Rebecca's girl scout troop "bridged" to Brownies, and she earned her orange belt in karate. Molly ended her ice skating lessons, now qualifying for Level 4. And Amelia moved from preschool 2 to Pre-K in a spectacularly cute program for parents.

U2. True Love.

2011-06-23T16:38:00.002-05:00

Bono is my boyfriend. It's quite lovely of my husband to allow me to drool over this rock star/activist who is admitedly old enough to be my father. He is yummy, and the U2 concert in Baltimore at M&T Stadium--where the Ravens play--was truly a spiritual experience. I sang, I cried, I gasped, I laughed, I was in awe. And so were all the people around us. Even my husband.

Ding-dong, the Witch is dead...

2011-05-02T00:25:00.004-05:00

I interrupt this cheerful family-centered blog to bring you my thoughts on this historic event: Osama bin Laden is dead.

Those who know me are well aware that I have liberal political leanings. Let's get that out of the way, in the interest of full disclosure.

Like everyone born after 1990, I remember very clearly where I was on September 11, 2001. I was two months away from giving birth to my first child, watching the Today Show at my house in Connecticut, out of graduate school classes for the day. I cried, I was angry, I knew life would never be the same, I was afraid I'd never feel safe again, and I cringed to think that my child would never know a world without the after-effects of that day. When President Bush announced the US military was headed into Afghanistan to find and kill the mastermind of this attack, I was not wholly unopposed. My pacifism started to waver. Just war. Not "just" war, but A Just War. Maybe?

It's been nearly 10 years, and just this evening, President Obama announced that we--the US military, acting on information from the US intelligence community and under orders from the Commander in Chief--found and killed Osama bin Laden. Finally! But did I do the Happy Dance? I did not. Because killing is, for lack of a better word, crappy. It doesn't feel GOOD. I do think bin Laden deserved to die. Frankly, it's not even a tough call for me to say that, but I am conflicted because I think it SHOULD be a tough call for me to say that.

A state-sanctioned/ordered death, even in a military context, is akin to the death penalty. I'm opposed to the death penalty for a few pretty basic reasons. Justice, as carried out by human beings, is imperfect. Judges and juries make mistakes. People who should be punished aren't and innocent people are sometimes punished when they should not be. It is primarily for this reason that I oppose the death penalty. You can't undo it if you discover later that you've made an error. According to some sources, it's happened at least 39 times--that we know of--in recent US history, no doubt countless more times the world over. Not to mention all the people we've freed after years in prison when we realized our mistake before we got to the execution day (130 since the mid-1970s, 10 in 2010 alone). Second, we've proven over and over again that the death penalty is not a deterrent. People don't avoid committing capital crimes because they're afraid of being killed by the State. We don't execute people publicly or swiftly (that whole due process thing, protected by the Constitution), so it's a no-go. Finally, I believe in Jesus Christ and try hard to follow his teachings, and he was super clear about the whole killing thing. Don't do it.

That's one angel on my shoulder.

Then there's the other one, reminding me how I felt on and after 9/11, showing me the images of those who lost their lives that day, gently giving voice to US soldiers who've died fighting this guy and his minions, giving voice to the soldiers' families, telling me again about the people in Afghanistan whose lives have been destroyed by this war we're waging, all because of Osama bin Laden. This angel on my shoulder wants me to remember my anger and to feel justified that someone (my country) acted on it.

Osama bin Laden was 100% guilty. There is no doubt he committed the crimes. The thousands who died in attacks he ordered, the thousands who died defending him and his movement, the thousands who died fighting him and his movement, and the thousands who die not fighting at all, but just trying to survive in the war-ravaged lands he inhabited: the blood of all these people is on his hands. So my first argument doesn't hold water. There could be no error.

However, my second argument still stands. Nothing about killing bin Laden will stop the killing that his rantings have spawned. Extremists and terrorists still thrive and may well be empowered by bin Laden's death, to become more active. So penalizing bin Laden with death doesn't stop anything.

And my third argument still stands. Jesus taught us to love our enemies, to turn the other cheek, to disregard the "eye-for-an-eye" commandment. Revenge is not a Christian tenet, though justice is. He was VERY clear. Love one another.

So I'm one-for-three. I feel a little alone as I fail to celebrate and update my Facebook status with four exclamation points.

Osama bin Laden was evil. I'm not sad that he's dead. But the jubilant atmosphere in the Washington and New York streets tonight feels wrong. I can't find a way to love Osama, as Jesus commanded, but I just can't bring myself to rejoice in the death of another person, no matter how inhuman he seemed. Hopefully, those who have lost loved ones or livelihood because of this man can find some closure and peace in knowing he is dead. The soldiers who have fought and died trying to find him--or supporting the mission to find him--deserve our gratitude and our support, as do their families. I can acknowledge the historical significance of this day, but don't ask me to celebrate it.

The pundits on the 24-hour news networks and the wanna-be pundits on Facebook and Twitter will spin this every which way. Who deserves the credit and who doesn't deserve the credit? What will happen in Afghanistan and Pakistan now? Are we safer? Are we in more danger? Who is the bad guy now? Not many people will stop to wonder if killing bin Laden was the right thing to do from a political, military, or ethical standpoint. I'm conflicted--I wanted him to be dead, but I don't feel good about wanting that.

I'd love some civilized feedback. Bring it, y'all...

She's 7!

2011-03-15T16:45:00.001-05:00

Rebecca turned 7 and invited a few friends to celebrate at the movies with her. We saw Gnomeo and Juliet, the Shakespeare story told by, well, garden gnomes. I wish I could tell you whether or not it was a cute movie--but as the primary party host, I was shuffling kids to and from the bathroom and refilling their popcorn/soda trays. The theater gave us the party room, where we enjoyed cookie cake and italian ice, then we were whisked behind-the-scenes where the film reels are kept and the birthday girl got to start one of the movies! She glowed with excitement all afternoon!

The Anti-Snow Bubble Bursteth

2011-02-05T20:28:00.004-06:00

There have been blizzards, snowmageddons of ginormous proportion, across the USA this winter. Many places had a white Christmas, including parts of Florida, and warmish places along the eastern seaboard. With each icy swath seen on The Weather Channel map, we hoped for our piece of snowy heaven. Local weathermen would be giddy with predictions, but each time, they'd back down on accumulation totals in the days leading up to the storm. "The DC metro area will see 8-10 inches...no, wait, 6-8 inches...actually, just 1-2 inches...okay, we can expect a dusting by mid-morning."

We were in the Anti-Snow Bubble. To the north of us, kids made snow angels out the wazoo. To the south of us, colonial Williamsburg was snuggled into an icy blanket. Even Virginia Beach, to the east of us, was powder white. Now, our New England neighbors are buried, as are my Midwestern buddies; they are begging for mercy. Over and over again, the snow passed us by.

Until last week! Twelve glorious inches of perfect packing-and-sledding snow! Hooray! After about two days of out-of-school kiddos, wearing boots to work and grimy salty/sandy cars, I was ready for Spring. So, thank you, Snow Angel of Winter Goodness, but I am now finished with you. You may peddle your wares elsewhere. But feel free to visit next winter!

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-27T20:32:00.000-06:00

How The Grinch Made Our Christmas Eve Awesome

2010-12-27T20:25:00.000-06:00

On Christmas Eve Day, we headed to National Harbor for ICE! featuring the story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas carved in ice. Lots and lots of huge blocks of ice. Aunt Meredith was in town and joined us as well. We donned blue parkas to enter the exhibit, where it's a chilly 9 degrees at all time. Best part? Freezing our tushies off on the ice slides!

Home Sweet Home!

2010-12-23T19:52:00.000-06:00

The luck o' the schedule (my work schedule, that is) meant I had 6 days in a row off smack-dab in the middle of December. Six days off?! Let's get in the car and drive home! We celebrated Christmas with both sets of grandparents, & we got to see our friends, hang with our families, and get homesick all over again...

Madison Square Garden Hosts the Memphis Tigers (and us)

2010-12-10T19:45:00.000-06:00

Thanks to our fellow Memphian-turned-Virginian Brian, we had the honor of watching our hometown Tigers play basketball at Madison Square Garden in NYC. We played Kansas, ranked #2 at the time, and actually held our own in the first half, though we only led for a few seconds. The half-time score gave us the false hope that we had a chance. Alas, we fell apart in the second half, BUT it was quite somethin' to be in that historic arena, watching our young team up close, and cheering them on!

9-Year-Old Dreams Do Come True

2010-12-01T20:47:00.000-06:00

Best. Birthday. Party. Ever.

Local Japanese steakhouse offers **free** limo service to and from the restaurant. What a PERFECT party idea for a girl turning 9! Some serious squealing ensued--my ears are still ringing--but we loaded a few of Molly's gal pals up & treated them to hibachi chicken. Wouldn't you have loved this when you were a kid? Wouldn't you love it now!?

First Santa Sighting of 2010

2010-11-28T19:36:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving weekend. Carriage rides with Santa! This year is notable as Amelia's first year to not only tolerate but l.o.v.e. Santa. Exit fear and terror, enter batting eyelashes and endless chatting. This particular Santa was quite outstanding. Looked great and very friendly.

Rockin' the District

2010-11-20T19:23:00.001-06:00

Aaaand, they're off...

2010-11-15T21:42:00.000-06:00

It was a very Virginia day. Very Vah-jen'-ya. Old money. Colonial Southern. Lots of women in tall black boots, riding boots that aren't used for riding. Many, many hats adorned with flowers and straw and floppy brims. Men with pipes and sweater vests. "Tailgating," if you will, but not with hot dogs and cans of Bud Light. Fondue sets, champagne glasses, smokers, brie platters, catered spreads.

We loved every minute of the Montpelier Hunt Races. Stunning horses, their muscles billowing up close as they leapt over steeplegates right in fron of our eyes. On the grounds of the Montpelier estate, home of James Madison. My college buddy Sarah and her husband Lane invited us, as newly residented Virginians, to join their gang for a beautiful fall day at the races. Friendly wagers, managed by Lane, made the short runs all the more interesting. Our favorite was the runnning of the hounds to start the races. The kids played beanbag toss (which is called "cornhole" in these parts), the grown-ups chatted and reminisced. We were hoping to see Molly's penpal, Thomas, whom she had met just over a year before at Lane and Sarah's Virginia wedding. Suddenly, with little warning, Rebecca got quite sick, and we needed to make a swift exit to avoid spreading her germs. (The week before, 3 in our household had weathered the pukey storm, and we did NOT want to share with the other partygoers.) So we missed the last two races, and very unfortunately--we learned later--narrowly missed Thomas and his dad.

Despite this disappointment, we loved our day among the monied Virginians, and hopefully, we can return next fall for a redux!

Click here for pictures. You won't be disappointed!

I Did It!

2010-11-15T20:15:00.000-06:00

Ran a 5K. Freezing cold. But done! On to a 10K...

Life is Old There, Older Than The Trees

2010-10-21T14:12:00.005-05:00

Shenandoah National Park, Skyline Drive, at the height of leaf season. Enjoy.

Soundtrack for My Sanity

2010-10-21T11:08:00.005-05:00

Okay, so I never ever ever thought I'd be one of Those People. You know the ones: they act like exercise is fun. Maybe you're one of them. As though sweating and gasping for breath is not only good for you (which it is, of course), but also enjoyable (whatever). They look forward to muscle stretches and aches, to leg cramps and stomach cramps and ruddy faces and stinky pits.

There is a reason I carry extra weight--and have for a long time, on and off, but mostly on. I like hostess treats and real Coke. I enjoy a creamy sauce on my salty meat. I like vegetables and fruits, but I also like butter and pie crust. Perhaps all this would be acceptable and not show up in record time on my belly/arms/chin/thighs/etc, if I liked exercise. But also, I am not one of Those People.

At least I wasn't. Until recently. You may recall that I started running, even though no one was chasing me. I think I have always secretly wanted to be one of Those People, and most of them are runners. I equate their affinity for running with the inexplicable love of tomatoes and olives that some people display. People who like tomatoes LOVE them, they wax eloquent about them. I have always wanted to like tomatoes--I have tried them over and over again, without success--so I could love a healthy food like that. Make 'em into a sauce or heat them up mixed with other items (disguising them), and I will eat them. But alone, raw, cold? No. I digress.

Back to the running. I've struggled. I used a lot of excuses not to do it as often as I should. Got really off track when we moved to VA in late August. But now I am back on it. And, dare I say it, I actually like it. A lot. The weather has been outstanding since we moved here, and I LOVE being outside, running around the lake, into the woods, through the neighborhood, where I very fortunately do not know anyone. When it's a little chilly, I love it. When it's hot, I love it. When it's rainy, I love it. Ohmigosh, I have become one of Those People!

Caveat: I am not at all good at it. I am not fast. I take walking breaks. I recently was baptized by bird poop as I ran, a pretty good indicator that I wasn't moving much faster than a parked car. Since I run for time, not distance (so far), I have no clue how far I am going, but when I drive my running route--which is probably a little longer than my footpath distance with the curves and all--it's about 3 miles. I have now achieved the 30-straight-minutes-of-running goal, which conventional wisdom indicates I should now be able to run a 5K (3.1 miles).

Also, it's not a pretty picture when I do this. When I sweat, I smell like stale popcorn. My pits are insanely wet, my chest is bright red, my face is lobster-like, my back sweats, my hands swell. I use big fat padded headphones, circa 1989, because ear buds fall out of my ears. They work just fine, thank you, but they look 100% ridiculous. I have ZERO desire to run with others. Which brings me to the title of this post. Running is now, officially, my sanity. My Me Time.

Just for fun, and to see if anyone has other suggestions, I thought I'd share my Running Playlist, comfortably stored on my rhapsody app on my iPhone (which I wear on my arm, adding to the above-described pretty). Some of these are songs that I would not normally listen to in real life, but I like them all in this context. I am generally a folk-rock/classic rock kind of gal, mellow, sing-along songs. But Iris Dement & John Prine are, frankly, not very motivational. So I dug deeper, channeled my inner-angry-girl and found some music with evergy. Some are warm-up, cool-down and the rest move-your-booty motivational. So here it is:

Warm-up:
Beautiful Day-U2
Hey Soul Sister-Train
Bring Me To Life-Evanescence

Move it:
Headstrong-Trapt
Suddenly I See-KT Tunstall
So What-Pink
Thanks for the Memories-Fall Out Boy
Empire-Queensryche
American Girl-Tom Petty
My Life Would Suck Without You-Kelly Clarkson
How Far We've Come-Matchbox Twenty
American Idiot-Green Day
Born to Run-Cowboy Mouth (Springsteen cover)
Dirty Little Secret-The All-American Rejects
The Distance-Cake
Get on Your Boots-U2
Go-Blink 182
Goodbye to You-The Veronicas

Cool Down:
Pump It Up-Elvis Costello
All These Things That I've Done-The Killers
Call Me When You're Sober-Evanescence
Dreams-Van Halen

Despite my new membership in The Club of Those People, I will try to refrain from acting like others are insane for not buying my crap. Sedentary lifestyles can also be fun and rewarding. I'm not too far gone to remember that. Life's too short to force yourself to like tomatoes. The important thing is to keep trying new things.

Whatever. ;-)

Pickin' and Grinnin'

2010-10-12T13:56:00.006-05:00

It's fall y'all! Mom and Dad came up for a visit and to celebrate Amelia's 3rd birthday. I was on call last weekend (and was a busy midwife!), so the party was this weekend. We headed out to Crooked Run Orchard to collect some red and green lovelies.

Sunday was Amelia's little party. Our new friends/neighbors joined us for cake and ice cream, Pin The Hair On Dora, and presents. Amelia sang Happy Birthday to herself in the bathtub that night over and over. I think she loved it!

Amelia is 3!

2010-10-02T09:01:00.006-05:00

Happy, happy, happy birthday to Mimi! Can't imagine our family without this little redheaded fireball. She is hilarious, giggly, feisty, loving, determined, chatty, friendly, smart and super sweet. Can remember her birth day and its immediate aftermath like it was yesterday!

We went to our town's Fall VillageFest this evening. Amelia thought the whole set-up was in honor of her birthday. And who are we to contradict that? She's worth a whole carnival for sure!

The Road Less Traveled

2010-09-13T22:53:00.004-05:00

Labor Day weekend. Blue Ridge Center for Environmental Stewardship. Purcellville, Virginia. A big ol' family hike, dog included. Perfect weather. Perfect scenery.

Greetings from Virginia, Y'all!

2010-08-31T15:44:00.003-05:00

Okay, we did it. Somehow, miraculously, with the help of some of the greatest friends in the universe and thanks to Peter's anal planning of how to efficiently pack the truck, we fit our HUGE amount of stuff into the moving van. I don't think even a toothbrush would've fit by the time it was all done. With the assistance and company of my dad and Brian and Victoria, we caravanned across TN and up through Virginia. We have arrived. We have unloaded. We have unpacked. We have already taken advantage of the community pools. We even took a weekend trip to Hershey Park (compensation for the fact that our Disney trip had to be postponed due to the timing of this move). We are officially residents of Ashburn, Virginia.

The only major casualty of the move is that my beloved camera is gone. We had a party with lots of friends at our house the weekend before we left; that was the last sighting of the camera. Was hoping it had been packed last-minute in a box. But alas, it is not here anywhere. All the August pics are courtesy of my dad or my iPhone.

A Memphian's Lament

2010-08-12T13:14:00.002-05:00

A series of events and divine signs have led us here. Peter's employer wanted him on-site in the DC area more. We wanted him to travel less. My job situation had become tenuous, and the commute was not healthy for our family. We prayed a lot. We researched a lot. Peter told the company he'd move to the DC 'burbs. Suddenly, I had a job, too. A great job in suburban DC. A whirlwind from "let's start thinking about this" to "I guess we're doing this." So many aspects of this transition fell into place, so I know it's right. We have a townhouse to rent there, which we rented sight-unseen (scary and VERY uncharacteristic of me), that we then saw on a pre-move visit and turns out, is perfect. Mine is kind of my dream job in many ways. The changes with Peter's position will be almost certainly positive. We're moving in two weeks to northern Virginia, and it will be great!

So why, why, why, does this hurt so much? When I moved away for college, I always said I'd never move back to Memphis, and then, 13 years later, I rolled back into town. I complain regularly about Memphis and all its problems--the culture of racism, the mostly bad schools, the apathetic majority, the hot summers. But there are SO many things I love about Memphis. And I kind of don't wanna leave. There's BBQ and the Tigers and the Redbirds and the Levitt Shell. Downtown and Main Street and midtown and Lakeland and Shelby Farms. The museums, the ease of travel, the zoo, the local music scene. Our church, our neighborhood, our school, our friends. People who are making a difference and who care about changing the things that suck into the things we can be proud of. Can't change the hot summers, but we sure can suffer through them together, cooling off in pools and sprinklers, drinking cold beers together while we grill out, finding respite in the air conditioning of each other's homes.

Every other move for our family has felt right--right time to move on, ready for a change. With this one, though the pieces are falling beautifully into place, I feel so sad. I have a great extended family and so many of them are right here. I love that my kids see my parents so often, that Dad can call and ask if maybe he can just whisk 'em away to the zoo for the afternoon, that my mom can roll cookie dough with them for the holidays, that there are cousins two blocks away. Our neighborhood is fun and festive and full of kids. The children adore their school, and we're confident they're learning a lot there. We have friends--individual friends and couple friends and family friends, from church and school (old and new) and sports and the neighborhood and childhood and work. I know we'll keep in touch with our Memphis friends, but it won't be the same. We'll have Facebook and email and the phone and visits back "home" but it won't be the same. And that will be sad.

The closer we get to August 25, the more I cry--and not just because I hate to pack. Though I know a great adventure awaits, and that God has a plan for our family, I still mourn the loss of what we have in Memphis. It won't be the same; it will be different. But maybe, just maybe, it will be different in some really good ways. And we'll always have the memories of good times in The Bluff City with some of the best people in the whole world.

Staycation: Walking in Memphis

2010-08-06T12:52:00.016-05:00

Peter left for Guatemala on a Mission Trip with our church, and I had the week off to be with the kidlets. I debated what to do with them, where to go, maybe a couple of day trips. But ultimately, I decided to explore our fair city with them. Things would be less crowded on weekdays, and I'd let them make the itinerary. This idea became even more brilliant when we learned we'd be moving away from Memphis at the end of August. All the more reason to take in the sights before we left. The Newtons met us on a couple of the days, which was fantastic. The girls got to hang out with Sage, I got to hang out with Jen and baby Hazel.

The girls really wanted to go roller skating, which wasn't a Memphis-specific event, but something they wanted to do. It had been a good 20 or more years since I was on roller skates, but I rocked the rink after a few wobbly turns around the place. The girls all eased into it, too, and did quite well. I feel really old even thinking this, but goodness, the music the kids listen to these days is just nauseating. Either sugary-sweet or crazy-skanky, but all repetitious and processed and, ugh. I longed for the "Oh Mickey" days of old. Would a little "When Doves Cry" have killed 'em? Jeez. In any case, we had a blast.

Mud Island was great--insanely hot. Jen sent me a text later that night saying the heat index had been around 112. We're such good moms for getting our kids out in that weather! In our defense, they were wading/swimming in the water and fountains the whole time. We took 'em all to Beale Street, to A Schwabs and to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. My kids' disturbing affinity for the Justin Bieber song at the roller skating rink was redeemed a little by their excitement at seeing the U2/Bono memorabilia at the Hard Rock.

One morning, we went to the Dixon Art Gallery. The kids went on an art scavenger hunt, provided by the nice docent at the front desk, and sketched their own drawings inspired by some of the gallery's collection. We met the Newtons afterwards at the Botanic Gardens for lunch at the cafe (seriously yum) and some big-time play-time at My Big Backyard. The Farmer's Market there is top-notch as well, and we were introduced to the best Italian ice ever, as well as natural honey sticks we couldn't get enough of. Saw the sign about wine-and-tapas night, a few quick calls later and Jen secured a babysitter for all the kids so we could return later that night for grown-ups-night-out. Fantastic!

Other requests from Molly & Rebecca were the Fire Museum & The Civil Rights Museum. Another great day downtown. We rode the Main Street Trolley from one to the other.

Spent one morning at Sun Studios, learning more about the Elvis legacy in our city, listening to some great old grainy tracks, and posing with the microphone both Elvis and Bono used when recording there. We had lunch in a train car at the Spaghetti Warehouse. That night, took all three kids to see Mary Poppins on the big screen at the Orpheum. Despite multiple trips out for the bathroom, we made it through the movie.

We headed down to Autozone Park for the Memphis Redbirds game. Our kids were the stars of the show--Molly got to deliver the game balls to the home plate umpire at the beginning of the game, and Rebecca participated in a promotion for a dental insurance company by dressing up as the tooth fairy, who uses a giant toothbrush to "clean" the bases between innings. They "called" the game from the Fantasy Radio booth with Papa. To top it off, Redbirds won with a walk-off homerun!

We were all wiped out after our Staycation, maybe even more than after a vacation, but my appreciation for what Memphis has to offer is multiplied, and we have lots of memories and pictures to treasure as we leave the city for new adventures!

The Boat & The Jedi: A Weekend in 'Bama

2010-07-30T12:26:00.004-05:00

We are rednecks and we are nerds. Why not combine the two? Where should we go for a weekend getaway? How 'bout...Alabama!? Why, of course.

The brainstorming began when we had some friends over for a grill-out dinner. The guys were talking about boats. Guys in the South like to talk about boats--either the one they have or the one they want. It's pretty normal down here. This love of boats (and I don't mean sailboats or yachts or even cruise boats, though we'd all like those, too) might earn us the label "redneck" in other regions. Bring it on. We like boats. And beer. So they guys were talking about boats and, before I knew it, they were talking about dates to reserve a boat at Pickwick Lake. We'd bring coolers of, well, beer, and I guess some non-alcoholic bevs for the kiddos, and we'd just Be on a boat all day. Our buddy Steve actually bought a boat recently (garnering the supreme jealousy of the other guys), so he and his family would meet us down there. Four families. A lake. And beer.

The nerd part of our family comes out in the next segment of this weekend adventure plan. As an elementary school kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. Frankly, who didn't? They had the Young Astronauts Club at school and, most important, there was the classic movie Space Camp. Watched it over and over again. I recently introduced it to my kids on Family Movie Night--they were also smitten. For fun, I googled Space Camp to see how much it would cost to ship my kids there next summer. In the process, I found the Website for the Huntsville (AL) Space and Rocket Center, where I'd been as a child. And their upcoming exhibit was..get ready...Star Wars! Aw, yeah. We were 100% there. Our little Alabama weekend would be perfect. Boating on Saturday, Jedis on Sunday.

We rented a 12-man pontoon boat and a tube. Since most of our cargo would be under the age of 10, we figured we could squeeze a few extra bodies on. Initially, we had three families (6 adults and 8 kids). Coolers with the requisite beer and juice boxes and water. Sunscreen. Cameras. Stylish wide-brimmed hats. As we tried to meet up with Steve and family, we found only certain locations in the middle of the lake with cell phone reception. Finally, we reached them. Their boat had experienced technical difficulties. What's four more, huh? Awesome! So we picked up them up at another dock, two more adults and two more kids. That's 8 adults and 10 kids total. It was remarkably perfect. We'd anchor the boat and let everyone swim in the lake. We docked on the shore for a picnic lunch and more swimming. The kids took turns being pulled behind the boat in the tube. Fantastic day with fantastic friends!

We drove on to Huntsville that night and enjoyed the Space and Rocket Center, gettin' our nerd on, so to speak, on Sunday. Pictures with storm troopers, building our own droids a la RD2, a C3P0 movie, a defying-gravity ride, rockets and shuttles up close. Loved it, loved it, loved it.

Don't Cry For Me, Babylon!

2010-07-27T23:50:00.004-05:00

Peter and I teach Kindergarten Sunday School. You never know what kind of craziness 5-and-6-year-olds are gonna throw at you. You have to be prepared to keep a straight face, to know when to stop a story that will have an untoward outcome, to know when to stop the story-telling altogether, lest the actual Bible lesson never happens.

Last week we were talking about Daniel reading the writing on the wall during King Belshazzar's party. As you may know, the writing--placed on the wall by a floating, bodyless hand (plenty freaky for our 12 boys)--predicted the outster of King B, a prophecy that came true that night. King B was killed/overthrown and a new King was in charge by morning.

"What do you mean he was overthrown?" someone asked. "Well, you know how we elect a new President sometimes? When a new President takes over in this country, the old one simply lets the new person be in charge. No one dies or fights, it's a peaceful process." They nod. "In a lot of countries, even today, when a new person wants to be in charge, he kills the current leader and the current leader's helpers and family members. Then he takes over. It gets pretty bad. We're really blessed here in the US that it's not a big fight and no one dies. So, back in Bible times, this was pretty much how new people got to be in charge--they killed the other person. That's what happened to King Belshazzar." They nod--some of them are writhing on the ground, distracted by shoelaces or a piece of hair, you know, typical Kindergarten fidgeting. Then Rebecca--our brilliant daughter--says, "You mean like in Evita!?" Peter and I--musical theater buffs that we are--beamed with pride. "Yes, Rebecca, just like in Evita!"

Broadway bridges the gaps, people. :)

Hairspray and The Balcony

2010-07-27T23:20:00.006-05:00

The girls had been asking to go the Civil Rights Museum, located here in Memphis and built around the hotel where Martin Luther King was shot in 1968. For a couple of years, I'd been resisting, thinking they were just not ready to learn in that much detail about that struggle. There's some part of me that is thankful for the fact that, to them, people of color are just people with skin of another color. With their open hearts and open minds, they DO judge people by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin. How much is too much to teach your children about segregation, racism, hatred--and at what age? Of course, they are white, so it's easy for me to wax philosophical about how it seems like things are sweet and innocent for them. My friends who are African-American have told me stories that would curl your hair about the racism their children experience, however subtle. But I CAN tell you with certainty that my children are not being raised to treat anyone differently because of color. And I think that color blindness was something I wanted to protect.

It seems crazy but the ultimate decision-maker here was "Hairspray." A movie, then a Broadway musical, then a remake of the movie, Hairspray takes place in Baltimore in the early 1960s. A heavy-set white girl who loves to dance wins a spot on an American Bandstand-meets-Mickey Mouse Club-style show and decides to fight to integrate the show. Until then, the wholesome-appearing white kids danced most of the time and once a month, the black kids danced on "Negro Day." Tracy, who faces plenty of hatred herself for being chubby, vows to integrate, and is even arrested, all with the cheery numbers you'd expect from a Broadway musical. The girls have seen the remake at least a dozen times and we recently saw an incredible production of the musical at a local professional community theater. We talked about integration, the word "Negro," prejudice. And they asked again to go to the Civil Rights Museum. I finally relented.

At the museum, we started with the film, "The Witness," which is the story of the sanitation workers' strike as told by the Rev Billy Kyles, one of King's best friends, who was intimately involved in the strike and in the Memphis visit--and one of the men on the balcony with King when he was shot. The footage was real and vivid. The girls were sad--and confused: Why were the police beating people up? I thought police were the good guys. Why did they spray that little girl in the eyes? That man is bleeding--did he die? They were mesmerized as they listened to the Mountaintop speech, which King delivered the night before he was killed, and understood the Biblical references from that speech. As we left the film room, they were quiet.

But the quiet didn't last. Soon, they launched into a flood of questions. Prompted by the exhibits, we talked about the KKK, about Brown v Board of Ed, about Rosa Parks, about George Wallace, about Selma and Birmingham and jails and separate restrooms and lunch counters and freedom rides. We listened to songs sung in marches and read the nonviolence pacts that participants signed when going to sit-ins. We all cried a little when we passed the balcony. Molly sighed as we left, "I just don't understand why people acted like that to other people."

I'm glad I took them, but part of me still thinks I contributed to innocence lost by doing so. Maybe they're too young. But maybe, just maybe, if they see or hear racism, however subtle, they will speak up--because they've seen where we came from and can see how far we've come. And perhaps they can do their part to ensure we keep going forward.

Yankee Doodle Dandy

2010-07-10T19:32:00.000-05:00

Celebrating America's birthday with the Walshes, the Marshes-from-two-blocks-away, the Dixons (Pete's sister Jen, her hubby Rob and cousin Travis) from Oregon and the Reeds (Pete's Uncle John and Aunt Barbara plus their granddaughter Nyla) from Dyersburg, TN. Two days prior, it was Matt's b-day, so he got an American flag cake and two pretty little girls to share his lap. A cookout, a little swimmin' in the kiddie pool, fireworks--which we can legally enjoy since we live in the county!

Oregonians In Da House!

2010-07-09T12:09:00.000-05:00

Peter's sister Jennifer, her fab husband Rob and their amazing son Travis graced us with their presence in early July. They stayed through July 5 (see next post for July 4th pics!) and we all had a blast! We went to the Splash Park & a Redbirds baseball game downtown. We ate barbecue and grilled out at home. The cousins played in the treehouse and the kiddie pool, with light sabers and puppets. Can't wait for our next visit together!

If You Can't Stand the Heat, Repaint the Kitchen!

2010-07-01T11:57:00.000-05:00

It's amazing what a coat or two of paint can do. We added some decorative items above the cabinets ("merchandising") as well. We love it!

Early Summer--Off to A Good Start!

2010-06-30T12:36:00.001-05:00

Pete's softball games, the girls with their matching doll outfits (keeping my girls young as long I can!), Redbirds games, enjoying the deck and hammock and grillin' out, Backyard Bash at the Botanic Gardens, playdates, Todd Snider concert at the Levitt Shell with the Kinneys and the Mills families, Molly goes to summer camp...

For a family that didn't go on a vacation, we sure got around!

Sisters in Beantown

2010-06-24T15:57:00.000-05:00

Meredith lives in Worcester, MA, just outside Boston. I joined her for a long weekend--just the sisters! Since we're Walshes, baseball was a must. We saw the Pawtucket Red Sox (AAA affiliate for the Boston Red Sox) in Rhode Island and, of course, a game at historic Fenway--with an exciting walk-off run to end the game! Mer lives in a house on a lake, so we took advantage of the sea kayak at her place, as well as the lovely porch, where we ate our meals. The organization of Burmese refugees with which she volunteers hosted a World Refugee Day while I was in town--much singing and dancing in beautiful traditional Kareni garments.

Look, Ma, No Hands!

2010-05-29T14:59:00.003-05:00

Molly just finished Spring soccer for our town's team. She loved it. Poor girl got my coordination, but she played hard and fearlessly. We had one kid on our team who was just a scoring machine--I think he may have been the only one to score the whole season, UNTIL the last minute of the last game, when Molly scored! It was our only goal of that game. Their team won almost every game they played--only three losses, all to the same team--and simply had a blast. I saw tremendous improvement in all of our players--they got better at defending the goal and playing as a team, better at following the ball and passing. Fun!

Startin' 'Em Young

2010-05-29T14:34:00.007-05:00

Here's my little #7--Mickey Mantle Marsh, we call her.

Rebecca's t-ball games are nearly over. She's enjoyed it, but perhaps I have enjoyed it more. Baseball is God's game, I am sure of it. And indoctrinating my children on this early and often is required. Fortunately, I have a partner who shares my love. I take full credit for our shared obsession--he wasn't a baseball fan until we met. He's a full-fledged convert.

In this league, the coach pitches three balls to each batter. If they can't hit the pitched balls, they are allowed to hit off the tee. A good transition, I think. 4-6-year-old t-ball is hilarious. When the ball is hit, the children flock to the ball at once, piling on top of one another, soemtimes even elbowing teammates to get to the ball. This phenomenon was highlighted when a child from the other team hit a foul ball that grazed the side of my head as I sat on the sidelines. As a looked up, unhurt but a little dazed from the impact, I saw a sea of tiny blue people running full-force toward me--a little Avatar moment--trying to capture the ball, which was far behind the bleachers at this point and more than a little out of play. Didn't matter that this was an unplayable ball, that the batter was still at homeplate--those kids were gonna get that ball no matter what! Hilarious.

They are so sweet as they stand in the field, distracted by, well, everything--a bird or plane overhead, a piece of their own hair blowing in the wind, bugs, flowers, a younger sibling or parent moving on the sidelines. One kid on the opposing team last week was running to home and, following the chalklines on the grass, ran in a semicircle before touching the base.

Hopefully, this will lead to a lifetime love of the best game ever played. Otherwise, we'll have to kick her off our team.

Not Yo' Momma's Camping Trip

2010-05-29T13:51:00.009-05:00

When Peter and I were first married, living in Connecticut, without any kidlets, we went camping a few times. It was usually a last-minute deal, glance over at each other on a Friday after work: "Wanna go camping?" "Sure, grab the tent." And within 20 minutes, we were on the road, a few things thrown in the cooler, two rolled-up sleeping bags, a tent, and some bug spray. We had a little white Honda, and our gear didn't begin to fill the back seat, much less the trunk.

Camping with children--and older, rounder grown-ups--is a whole different ballgame. One of my goals in traveling with children is to avoid whining/pouting fits. This is not to say that I spoil the children (though I have been known to bribe them on occasion); I just plan accordingly, to avoid unnecessary discomforts that may precipitate whining. This includes comfortable bedding, food choices that please everyone, bathrooms, etc. So camping these days is planned, lists are made, the van is strategically loaded. I research sites, find tent locations we can drive to (no primitive, pack-it-in camping for us), with actual bathrooms close by--no squatting, please, because dribbling on the edge of one's sock will lead to previously mentioned whining.

I wanted to go camping for Mother's Day. Decided on Chickasaw State Park, a litte over an hour away, and, it turns out, lovely. Weather was predicted to be in the low 70s in the daytime and mid-to-upper 50s at night--perfect. What used to be a 20-minute prep time is now a multi-hour prep time. What used to be half of a back seat in a 4-seater is now a trunk full and half of the inside of a mini-van. Now we have air mattresses, air pumps for same, a giant tent, two coolers, two bags of food, garbage bags, a sleeping machine for P, baby wipes, Pull-ups, hand sanitizer, wet wipes for hands and faces, bug spray, sunscreen, mosquito coils, firewood, campfire grill, camp forks, towels, food for carnivores and vegetarians, sippy cups, ice, five sleeping bags, five pillows. Yikes.

All this prep paid off, though. There was minimal whining. No problems with wet socks. It was most assuredly not "mid-to-upper 50s" at night--more like 40 and freezing, but even with multiple children waking up to cluster around "the warm one" (Daddy) while sleeping, we still managed to sleep in the tent all night. We cooked both dinner and breakfast over the campfire, everyone enjoying his/her own food. We made smores. We hiked around the lake, went boating, rode horses, played on a playground, went fishing (this was less pleasureable due to the time of day we chose and the fact that 2-year-olds are not patient enough to go fishing or be contained in a boat for an hour), and had lunch at the park's lovely restaurant, which was like the best Southern Baptist church potluck you've ever been to.

Best Mother's Day ever.

Y'all Come Back Now...

2010-05-13T22:10:00.004-05:00

The South is a world all its own. Some aspects of life here challenge me, remind me of why I moved away as soon as I graduated from high school. I hit the ground running, vowing never to return. But you know what they say about saying "never"--and I'm back. Happily. Because I am a native and I am related to more than half of west Tennessee, I am allowed to poke well-intentioned fun at how we talk. I could write a similar post about New England or Iowa, but that would be treading on their sacred ground. It just ain't allowed. Since I now work in a smaller city with people who live in truly rural areas (like "the county" and not any incorporated town), I've had the opportunity to hear some fun phrases that even I, born and bred here in west TN, wasn't previously familiar with. So some--but not all--of these are new to me, but all of them make me smile.

1) Daddy. Southern women refer to their fathers as "daddy" even when they are fully grown women. Not only to his face ("Daddy, will you help me open this jar?"), but also in a conversation when he is not even present. Ex: "My daddy woulda tanned my hide if I'da done that."

2) Swoll up like a tick. I didn't type that wrong, the word is "swoll." It is the present tense and the past tense, all rolled into one. Ex: "As you can see, she's swoll up like a tick." Or "It was so infected, she was swoll up like a tick." If you don't live where ticks live, you may need to know that ticks are insects that live in wooded areas. When they attach to a person's skin, they bite down (painlessly) and suck blood, causing them to puff up to a million times their normal size (exaggeration for effect).

3) Aw, lawsy. This is an expression of disbelief. It is the kindly Christian way of saying "Oh my Lord!" The "law" part is dragged out--laaaaw-zee. Sometimes it is shortened to "law." Ex: "Aw, lawsy, that's a big tick on your neck!" Or "Law! She lost a lotta weight!"

4) Hug your neck. It's not enough just to hug. A good Southerner wants to hug your neck. Not your shoulders or your cheek (this would be called the "kiss-hello program" and is generally not done in the South. If you kiss on the cheek--or worse, both cheeks--as a greeting, this is a dead giveaway that you ain't from these parts.).

5) Bless your heart. If you sugarcoat your criticism of another, it seems less painful. "She just didn't quite get those roots done right, bless her heart." Or "Bless your heart, you just can't seem to find jeans that can hide that rear end, can ya?"

6) Don't blow sunshine up my skirt. Tell me the truth. Don't add "bless your heart" to whatever you're saying--just say it.

7) When God was a boy. It's been done that way forever, and change is bad. Ex: "Well, we been planting seeds in that field since God was a boy."

8) Worn slap out. Very tired.

9) I'm sweatin' like a whore in church. Enough said.

10) This is an exact quote, but there are similar declarations made: "I'm just a hog farmer's daughter, and I know how to make a good cornbread." Substitute rural job associated with hard-working, humble people and recipe/food as needed. It's an attempt to explain that you are pleasantly simple and the world is just too complicated. This type of statement is generally accompanied by shrugging your shoulders and sighing.

If you're from the South, you probably have a million more! This endearing, folksy talk keeps me smilin' when some of those challenges (which may be fodder for a later post) make me think I need to get outta here again. Aw, lawsy, it's gettin' late--I gotta call Daddy and tell him to read my blog...

Welcome, Baby Alex!

2010-04-24T09:40:00.010-05:00

Peter's brother and his wife welcomed their second child, Alexander, in mid-February. We happily loaded up the kiddos for a whirlwind weekend adventure to Illinois to celebrate his Baptism in April. Bonus: the Oregon Marshes were all there, too--Nana and Pa, and Aunt Jenny, Uncle Rob and cousin Travis. We left Friday night, drove into the wee hours of Saturday morning, and spent Saturday with cousin Katie (the new big sister) & cousin Trav. Saturday night we had dinner with the new proud parents and the new little one. My kids love to travel, because they almost always get to take advantage of the hotel pool, so we did that on Sunday morning before the Baptism service. After Alex was dedicated, we enjoyed the reception for a little while (too short) and hit the road, arriving in the wee hours of Monday morning. Four hours of sleep, then back to work/school. Whew! That was a quick trip, but worth every moment.

Pictures from Cousins Day Out at the DuPage Children's Museum:

Swimming at the hotel:

The hosts at the Chinese buffet were smart to pile all of us into the back room so we'd have space all to ourselves and the kids could run around:

The Man of the Hour and all the people who love him:

The 30-Minute Mile

2010-04-23T12:29:00.002-05:00

I have decided to run a half-marathon. No, I don't know why. Yes, I am crazy. No, I've never been a runner before. It is customary for me to question the sanity of runners: why would you run 1 or 5 or 13.1 or 26.2 miles unless someone is chasing you? And yet, I have decided to become one of them. At least temporarily. My plan is to run the St Jude Half next December--yes, that gives me a year and a half to prepare. I will need every day of that time, because I am chubby, inactive and clumsy. Some co-workers started this, and being the bandwagon-hopper that I am, I'm doing it, too.

I have set an initial goal of running (not walking) a 5K by this fall. I downloaded an App to my iPhone (a gadget about which I cannot wax eloquent enough, but that is perhaps another post) called "Couch to 5K," recommended by my friend Jen who is also going to start running. This really, truly describes me. Yes, I occasionally swim laps at the gym. But in general, I am lazy. Not lazy when it comes to work and parenting, but lazy when it comes to The Big E. I do not get that "high" from exercise that people talk about. I just get winded and sore. I have 100,000 excuses for why I don't/shouldn't/won't exercise. Blisters, sweat, lack of exercise clothing, bad shoes, no time, sore ankle, a cough, cramps, something good's on TV, etc. So, I am most assuredly starting from The Couch.

This "Couch to 5K" App is very similar to the program I found on runnersworld.com, a site I thought I'd never frequent, but now it's saved in my Favorites. It starts with running for one minute, then walking two minutes, then repeating this for a total of 30 minutes. The App gives me voice prompts for when to switch from one mode to the other and allows me to load my music (an essential element to movtivate me) from iTunes right in. What this App does NOT do is tell me to quit crying, to yell at me to keep moving, to urge me to breathe, to massage my calves, to still the jiggling parts of my flabby body when I run. It is still a great tool, though.

My first run was in our neighborhood, which is a bit hilly. Well, "hilly" might be an overstatement--it is slightly inclined in a couple of places. When you are starting from The Couch, hills/inclines are an unnecessary hurdle. Also, I was not interested in having my neighbors see me gasping for breath after running for less than a minute.

So I did the rest of the week at our little town's City Hall Park, where there is a blessedly flat trail. The sign there says that 4.5 laps equals one mile. On Day 3 of my training (if we can even call it that at this point), it took me 30 minutes to go 5 times around this trail. A 30-minute mile. At this pace, I would finish a half-marathon in about 6 1/2 hrs, assuming I kept moving non-stop. I'm pretty sure the race would be closed by then, all volunteers safely back at home, and the finish line dismantled. Nonetheless, I was proud of myself. Proud that I kept moving for 30 straight minutes, proud that I ran even though I had a little blister, proud that I got my booty outta bed that morning--and the two mornings before, proud that I'd made it through the work-out without cursing the clock for not moving faster during the running parts and moving too fast during the walking parts.

I may never be fast and fit and thin, but I WILL run 13.1 miles at one time, even if I am crying when I cross the finish line and even if there's something good on TV that morning.

Becca & Her Buddies

2010-04-07T10:21:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, we went on numerous field trips each school year. Parents volunteered to drive, and I loved it when my mom or dad came along, so my friends could all ride in our car. These days, there is one field trip a year, the kids all ride in a school bus, and parent chaperones just meet the class at the trip location. Rebecca was thrilled that I met her class at the zoo for their only field trip of the year.

Oh, Give Me a Home Where The Buffalo Roam

2010-04-04T22:24:00.003-05:00

Smack-dab in the middle of the city of Memphis lies a true gem. Shelby Farms is an expansive natural park with forests, open land, ponds, biking trails, hiking & running trails, horseback riding areas, picnic tables, playgrounds, and...BUFFALO. I can remember occasional buffalo sightings as a child, usually 3 or 4 at once. But on Good Friday, those furry beasts were out in full force, right up against the barbed wire fence (which surely is not enough to protect us from these usually-gentle-but-capable-of-anything animals). There were about 50 of them--mamas and babies, big ol' papas curled up in the grass like house cats!

Lil Monkeys--in the Botanic Garden cherry trees

2010-04-04T22:16:00.004-05:00

Easter Princesses--Pictures at Dixon Gallery & Gardens

2010-04-01T21:29:00.000-05:00

Hoops!

2010-03-25T18:52:00.001-05:00

We love our Memphis Tigers! New, young, energetic coach (some of the local media folks call him "Coach Sunshine"). Fans with lots of energy. Players with heart. This was a big transition year for the Tigers, and even though we didn't make the NCAA tournament, our guys played well, and we had a winning season. Next year will be even better, as our recruiting class is outstanding. Here's the view going into the city's big arena, and the view from our seats (nosebleed section, but still worth it, 'cause the vibes in that place on game night are UNREAL):

Swamp Things At The Swamp

2010-03-24T00:07:00.000-05:00

One day of Spring Break, I took Molly & Rebecca to the nature preserve in Rossville, TN. We ate at the local diner for lunch and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of the country.

Mt. Laundry. Conquer and Repeat.

2010-03-18T19:01:00.001-05:00

On Facebook, I often post a status update regarding conquering/battling "Mt. Laundry." It is quite something to watch the pile grow. With five grubby souls in our dwelling, it doesn't take long for the molehill to become a mountain. I am picky about the smell of my detergent and about how shirts are folded. Peter is choosy about the whiteness of the whites and how pants are folded. It's a team effort, since we both work full-time. Frankly, he's better at it than I am. He often gets it done and folded, and I have the task of sorting the kids' clothes and putting everything away. Just when we finish, a new mountain awaits. It never ends...

Who's Watching Who at The Zoo?

2010-03-15T23:58:00.000-05:00

I don't take my camera every time we go to the zoo. We're there A LOT. But I'm glad I brought the Nikon on this day. The animals and the children were particularly adorable.

Rebecca is 6!

2010-03-08T22:19:00.000-06:00

Party with the family! Nana and Pa were in town from Oregon. They brought the Other Marshes over to join Granna and Papa in celebrating. Cake, round one, in the form of a gigantic cookie.

Party with the peeps! School and Sunday School classmates were invited to Crossfire Commandos, an obstacle course location designed to exhaust children to no end while allowing parents to do practically nothing other than show up. My kinda party! Everyone had a blast. My friend Kara made the adorable and scrumptious cake. Rebecca's request was the the cake had "an animal theme, not butterflies and dragonflies but raccoons and owls." Kara did a perfect job with this direction, dontcha think?

Momma's Little Trip

2010-03-03T17:49:00.001-06:00

We midwives have to keep up our skills and stay current on the latest research. Doesn't sound like fun, but actually, the conferences are informative and, most importantly, they are located in places other than where I live. This means a few days of travel each year for me, all by myself. For the first 24-36 hours, being all alone is liberating. Then I start to miss those little pipsqueaks and their dada. In any case, this year I opted to head to San Antonio, Texas. Never been there before, had heard that the RiverWalk was lovely, wanted to see The Alamo (which brings back fond memories of a childhood movie called Pee Wee's Big Adventure, starring that actor who later got caught doing something less-than-child-friendly, if I remember correctly).

The conference was phenomenal, made me itch to get back into group prenatal care, and refreshed my soul. The weather was moderate, which is good for February, and I got to eat some of the most amazing Mexican food I've ever tasted--and I know my way around a burrito, people.

Perhaps the coolest part of this little getwaway was connecting in person with some cousins who have been in contact with my dad for a few years after some genealogical research led them to each other. There were four of them, all of whom live in or near San Antonio, and all of whom were sweet as could be. It seemed like we were, well, family. Here are a few pictures from my trip:

Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot!

2010-03-02T11:43:00.001-06:00

There are so many things to do on board! We took dancing lessons (learned the opening sequence from the Austin Powers movie), played trivia (won two first-place trophies), ate amazing food, sunbathed, ate at the midnight buffet, gambled, sang karaoke, learned to make towel animals, danced in the disco, drank martinis and margaritas and whiskey and beer (not all at once), listened to live music, took in a comedy show and a Broadway-revue-style show. We dressed up for dinner and slept in. Ahhhhh....

If We Weren't All Crazy, We'd All Go Insane:The Shore Excursion

2010-03-01T23:46:00.000-06:00

Several weeks before we set sail, the three cruising couples had dinner together at a Japanese steakhouse to determine the best way to spend our day in Cozumel. There were lots of choices--visiting the Mayan ruins, shopping, beach parties, booze cruises, Mexican cooking classes, jeep rides, parasailing, swimming with dolpins, scuba diving, etc. After ruling out the ridicuously expensive options, as well as the wildly dangerous options, we settled on the Catamaran Ride/Sea Kayaking/Snorkeling/Beach Party/Lunch Buffet option. It seemed like a nice combination of activity and relaxation. Here we are, arriving in Cozumel, blissfully ignorant of what our day had in store:

It was a clear day, but incredibly windy. Choppy seas. Unkempt hair. Sandy teeth. As we reached the touristy zone, locals were holding up signs with the excursion titles. Turns out the windy conditions precluded snorkeling and catamaran sailing. Our excursion was cancelled. Frankly, we didn't have too many choices left since many were sold out or had already left, but we ultimately decided to see the Mayan ruins, with beach time at the end. We'd all seen the big pyramid-like temple in pictures, now we'd see it in person! We wandered around the shopping area waiting for our trip, disappointed but determined to stay positive.

We boarded the bus with Jorge. Jorge was a native of Cozumel. He talked non-stop on the way to the ruins, but not about what we were about to see. He talked about Cozumel, informing us that they do not grow anything there, they do not make anything there, and they are basically the redheaded stepchildren of Mexico. Not exactly a great representative for his city was Jorge. The ride was long, and Jorge just kept going, reciting a litany Mexican foods and talking about habanero peppers. I cannot over-emphasize how long this ride was. Finally we arrived. And it became painfully clear that not only were we in the redheaded stepchildren's city, we were also at the redheaded stepchildren's Mayan ruins. No temple. Just a lot of rocks, mostly, according to Jorge The Informed, sacrificial altars (maybe). One remnant of a road with an arch and one "small house." Here are a few pictures of the sad ruins and of us, first feigning excitement, then showing our true feelings.

The highlight? An iguana. He was regal and unafraid. Until some other cruisers (who, judging from their uncooth behavior, were probably from Cozumel) decided to get up in his grill--a move he did not like one bit. Off he ran. And the highlight was over. I did get a few pictures before he hissed and banged his head against the ground in Obviously Threatened Mode.

Okay, so ruins were a bust. Jorge is a turd. But now we get to go to the beach! Oh, first, let's stop for 45 minutes at the PeePee Station (see picture to show you how classy it was), which is just a souvenir shop, most likely owned by someone related to Jorge. 45 minutes! We grumbled as we waited for some dumb people to once again get off the bus for no reason. We were hungry. We wanted to feel the sand in our toes. We did not want to buy hammocks with pictures of iguanas drinking tequila on them.

By the time we arrived at the beach, after more excruciating Jorge Speak, we had only 45 minutes. We regrouped and decided quickly that we would just take a cab back to the ship, allowing us more time on the beach and some time to actually eat some of the Mexican food that Jorge had described in such detail. This would cost more money, but dad-gummit, we wanted to drink a margarita on the beach and play in the ocean. So we did.

In the end, we made the best of a rotten day, relaxed for a bit on the beach, enjoyed some local booze in the square before boarding, and managed to get just enough sand in our toes to have a good story to tell.

Steel Drums & Umbrella Drinks, Here We Come: Setting Sail

2010-03-01T23:34:00.000-06:00

Bargains-R-Us

2010-02-15T19:39:00.000-06:00

Once you get to the third kid, you've figured some things out. Sippy cups and bottles don't necessarily have to be super-sterilized every time. White clothes and children do not mix. Sometimes TV is a good short-term babysitter. And frozen chicken nuggets are...well, convenient if not tasty or particularly nutritious.

Another thing I have learned is how to shop for clothes at a consignment sale. My first trips there were full of what I now see were mistakes. There are several large kid clothes consignment sales each year in the Memphis area (in addition to shops that are around all year). This weekend, I hit one in full force, at the Agricenter. Some tips, from this seasoned mom:

1. Take a laundry basket with a belt or leash attached that you can pull behind you as you shop. It ain't pretty or even classy, but it's functional and you'll be glad you did. The floor is smooth enough for dragging the basket. The check-out lines move quickly but they are LONG and you don't wanna be holding clothes draped over your forearms for 30 minutes. Your arms'll cramp up. Lots of folks have learned this trick, so you won't look silly.

2. Buy things a little bigger than you think your kids will wear, mainly because these clothes have been worn and washed by others and have probably shrunk a little.

3. Look carefully for stains. If the previous owner couldn't get it out, you won't be able to either.

4. Note how the fabric wrinkles. If there are folded fabric edges, they will curl up after washing. In my house, at least, this means the item will simply not be worn because I rarely iron. Basically, if it looks like it will need to be ironed after every wash, I will not buy it.

5. Do not buy used clothing with ribbons or dangling accessories--they will also curl and fray. If my orally-inclined kids get ahold of anything that dangles, they will chew on it/suck on it. And that's just gross.

6. Items already paired together tend to be a better deal than items being sold separately. Not always true, but often. However, check the tags for both items. Sometimes, the consignor will put a cute name-brand high-quality shirt with a threadbare, cheapy pair of pants. Then you'll be stuck with a shirt that doesn't match anything else you own.

7. I'm skeptical of used shoes and socks. To each her own.

8. I do not buy $40 dresses at a consignment sale. Just not gonna happen. I know plenty of mommas who disagree--if it's usually $80 and you can get it for $40, that's a deal. True enough. But unless my kids are having a picture made in an outfit, they will not wear anything that costs $40, except occasionally shoes. I just have a philosophical issue with paying what I consider big money for something to be worn once, twice, or for only one season. My children are messy. They are too young to get the value of things, so a $3 shirt is the same as a $25 shirt to them in terms of how careful they are with eating or playing in it. Kids have fun when they're dirty. And I have enough battles to fight without worrying about how much I paid for the pants they're wearing that now have grass stains on the knees.

9. Most big giant consignment sales have a half-price day. Obviously, the best selection can be found in the early days of the sale. But the best bargains are at the end.

10. I shop alone. If I can't go childless, I will not go at all. I need to focus and move swiftly. I first pack my basket with everything I think I want, then I go through and do the first purge. Finally, I add up my total and do the second purge based on how much I planned to spend. If I were keeping up with kids or--even more damaging--pushing a stroller, this process would take approximately 152 times longer. This longer duration is scientifically proven and applies to all errands/jobs involving children under the age of 10.

My booty from last weekend came to $99. I got 15 outfits (5 for each kid) for Spring/Summer. They are cute, fashionable & of good quality. They do not need to be ironed, and none are white. I love a deal!

Florida Send-Off

2010-02-10T18:58:00.000-06:00

Our friends, the Beltons, moved to Florida at the end of January. Sad to see them go. A few families, whose kids all go to/went to our beloved Montessori preschool, got together at Bahama Breeze for one last hoorah. Don't think we won't be visiting them in sunny Florida!

Icy Death 2010, part 2

2010-01-30T23:13:00.005-06:00

Peter arrived home this morning (DC to Charlotte to Philly to Detroit to Minneapols to Memphis--and if he hadn't convinced them to route him back north on another airline, he'd STILL be in Charlotte!) and promptly whisked the girls out for another round of sledding. Most of our accumulation is ice--looks like snow but solid as a rock, thanks to the massive quantities of sleet that came down in the late afternoon and evening. This made some traditional snow playing difficult or impossible, but the sledding was good! A few pictures from our neighborhood:

Since We've No Place To Go, Let It Snow!

2010-01-29T16:23:00.004-06:00

As I post to this blog, we are the midst of Icy Death 2010/Arctic Assault/State of Emergency, etc. (When you live in a place that is not used to much winter weather, any prediction of snow or ice is met with fear and anxiety by all, fueled nicely by the weather personalities on our local news stations. To their credit, this one really is pretty nasty, with sleet and snow still coming down in torrential amounts, going on the 8th hour or so.) My clinic closed in advance, so that we could see some of today's patients yesterday. Schools, of course, are closed (they ain't afraid to close some stuff around here at the first whisper of the word "snow"). Everything is canceled. So, here we are, confined to the house. Peter is in, well, I guess right now he's in Philadelphia in the midst of a ridiculous airline fiasco. Looks like he'll get home tomorrow morning. The girls are about to kill each other, if I don't get to 'em first. But on the bright side, we baked chocolate chip cookies, made homemade hot chocolate, painted pictures, played board games, watched one epsisode of Dora, played on webkinz.com, listened to some Joni Mitchell & some Dave Matthews and ate garlic cheese grits. We went outside to have a snowball fight and went sledding on a hill nearby (going just fine until Molly got snow down her pants, and that was that!). The forecast includes continued frozen precip of various types until about 6 am tomorrow. So, since we've no place to go, let it snow!

"Mommy, I ready to pway inna snow! Got my boots and a pretty dress!"

Maybe this is a little more appropriate for the snow!

Snow buddies

My little competitor, ready to pummel someone with a snowball

Molly is ready to "Get Mommy!"

First run: Molly

And Molly again

Rebecca trudges back up, fully dressed with a smile

Rebecca, the fearless one

Ice, ice baby

Hello, Mr. Sunshine!

2010-01-22T19:55:00.000-06:00

After that frigid cold, we had a couple of lovely days, one of them falling on the King holiday, when Mom and Dad weren't at work and the kiddos were out of school. It didn't take much convincing to get outta the house & into the sun! We went to the Botanic Garden to enjoy their children's area called My Big Backyard and then closed out the day at the zoo.

Chasing the Cold Away

2010-01-16T15:32:00.000-06:00

We had some days in January that were just bitter cold. Like most of the country, we were frozen to the core, huddling inside by the fire, trying to avoid going outside lest our nose hairs would freeze. There were points when our temps--with windchill--were 15 below zero, awfully cold for our neck o' the woods. One afternoon, we pulled out Molly's pedicure kit, a gift from Santa, and tried to will away the cold with some TLC on our toesies.

Rebecca

Molly

Amelia

Happy Birthday To Me!

2009-12-30T23:30:00.000-06:00

Working on one's birthday is not the best thing in the world, but coming home to a sweet family IS! I got to have a yummy Thai dinner with my sister; then open presents (including gifts from thoughtful parents-in-law!) with my parents, hubby & kids; then eat cake; and then play board games with the grown-ups. A great way to start my 34th year!

Downtown Adventures

2009-12-28T22:22:00.000-06:00

Actually, Aunt Meredith took Molly & Rebecca to enjoy the Christmas decorations downtown BEFORE Christmas, but the blog post was delayed. Here are a few pictures from their adventures at the Peabody Hotel with the lobby ducks and on the carriage ride through our lovely city, right past Beale Street, where Molly fed candy canes (!) to the horse.

The Treehouse

2009-12-26T22:06:00.000-06:00

We liked the trees. That's part of what drew us to this house. I wanted the girls to have a treehouse. Peter planned it out, budgeted for the materials, and over the course of a couple of months, erected a most lovely clubhouse-in-the-trees for our darlings. Here are some pictures of the progress and, finally, the finished product. Talk about some happy kids! Once again, my husband astounds me with his many talents.

The Magic

2009-12-26T08:37:00.001-06:00

Santa was here! Santa was here!

After waaaaaay too many gifts were opened and enjoyed, Meredith and I made brunch.

Daddy Claus takes one (of many) load of trash, after all the packaging & giftwrap is removed. Hooray for recycling!

After brunch, The Walshes headed home (presumably for naps) and we loaded up to visit Bom-Bom. My grandmother celebrated her 101st Christmas! She loves movies with animals, so we gave her a family favorite, Happy Feet, in addition to some holiday flowers. Some days, Bom-Bom isn't "with it" enough to say much that is coherent, but she recognized the animals on the case as penguins and read the notes on the back, declaring "this will be a good one!"

We helped her eat dinner, and Amelia gave her a big hug, which brought a big smile to both Bom-Bom and the other diners.

On Christmas Day evening, The Other Marshes (as we affectionately call them) came over for our gift exchange. We played games (Twister!) and enjoyed leftover yummies.

The end of the day brought the best kind of tired!

'Twas The Night Before Christmas

2009-12-24T23:12:00.001-06:00

In keeping with tradition, my mom's side of the family gathered on Christmas Eve, this year at our house. We had ham and all the fixin's, each family contributing one or two dishes for the spread. After dinner, we opened gifts, the kids played like crazy while the grown-ups chatted the night away. Here are a few pictures of our house all decked out for the holiday and the family hanging out.

The girls sprinkled reindeer food on the lawn with Aunt Meredith, baked cookies for Santa with Granna, and bid our Elf on the Shelf (Morris) goodbye 'til next year.

See Morris? His final viewing spot for 2009 was by the Nativity.

It was a chilly, rainy night, but the reindeer food was skillfully scattered!

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care (ours, Granna's, Papa's & Aunt Mer's)

Oh, the anticipation! Thought they'd NEVER get to sleep (me either, truth be told)!

Nerdifying The Children

2009-12-23T23:14:00.003-06:00

One of our Christmas presents from Pete's parents--who were here until Tuesday--was the family version of Trivial Pursuit. We love board games, we love trivia, so TP is a double winner, and we own several versions already. This edition comes with questions for both children and adults!

We christened the game tonight. Rebecca and I were a team, and Peter and Molly challenged us. We alternated kid/adult questions. It's geared towards those over age 8, and Molly just turned 8, while Rebecca is only 5, so the questions were a challenge for them, but they did quite well. They loved reading the questions out loud and Peter and I--in typical Geek Parent fashion--used the questions as jumping off points to teach them a little something they might not have already known. Example: Q for kids: What race is also called the Run for the Roses? A: The Kentucky Derby. Daddy: Do you girls know why? Because the winning horse/jockey is given a blanket of roses as part of the award ceremony. Peter and Molly were the victors tonight, but we were only behind by one pie piece.

Nana's note on the gift indicated we should begin to pass the torch to the next generation. Mission accomplished!

So True, So True

2009-12-22T23:55:00.002-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8r1CZTLk-Gk

The Santa Capers

2009-12-21T22:55:00.004-06:00

Nana and Pa have been visiting from Oregon for a few days. Today, while Peter and I worked, they hung out with 4 of the 6 granddaughters. Because they are adventurous (or crazy), they decided to take these 4 little ladies to see not one but two Santas. We needed a picture of our 3 with The Big Guy--one that didn't include Mommy in it, too. And little Annsley hadn't visited SC just yet. They went to Bass Pro first--I know it sounds a little country, but pictures with Santa are free, and if you can look past the mounted dead animals all around, the Winter Wonderland they set up in there is kind of lovely. Apparently, it was super crowded in there today, which I guess would be expected since school is out. Pictures with Molly and Rebecca individually and Annsley and Amelia together.

Then they met Aunt Meredith at the Pink Palace for the Enchanted Forest/Festival of Trees. Molly loves to do the scavenger hunt there, and they all love the themed tree displays. The little critters that make up the forest are the same one from my childhood--I have posted on this bit of nostalgia before (last year). Anyway, they waited in line again for Santa, and got the Money Shot with our three girls. Meredith confessed that this picture belies the talent of the photographer, as it was the one moment when Amelia did not look completely terrified. Also, all three adults commented on how great this particular Santa was with the girls, especially Amelia. (You may recall her earlier encounter at Alpine Village, in which she repeatedly answered the question "do you want to go sit on Santa's lap?" with a very polite but firm, "um, no fanks" and employed the Grip of Death on my arm.) So now we have a picture of all three Marshlets looking less-than-terrified, with the best Santa in Memphis.

Silly Girly Squirrels

2009-12-20T22:54:00.000-06:00

The Gingerbread Anniversary

2009-12-19T23:33:00.004-06:00

The first anniversary is the paper anniversary, then comes the wood anniversary. Today is our 11th wedding anniversary, which I'm pretty sure is the gingerbread anniversary, isn't it? In any case, we spent the evening with Marsh family members, helping the girls (all 6 of 'em) decorate gingerbread houses. After a few strategic structural supports, Pa finally got all the roofs and walls to stay put. The littlest girls decorated a little and ate a lot. That candy was just too tempting. The oldest girls meticulously plotted licorice tile roofs and stained glass windows. Each creation was lovely, a perfect reflection of the artist who created it. Good enough to eat!

After the houses were finished, we watched the University of Memphis basketball game, which we lost to UMass in a nail-biter; ate pizza; watched a performance by Hallie, Molly & Rebecca; and watched a little National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

Earlier in the day, Peter and I had lunch with our girls and met Aunt Meredith at the movie theater for the matinee of The Princess and The Frog--one of Disney's better movies actually. So even though we didn't have a candlelight romantic dinner, our anniversary was a perfect one, full of sweet family memories.

If At First You Don't Succeed...

2009-12-18T22:45:00.011-06:00

I have failed in my quest to update the blog daily. I blame my mother. She ended up in the hospital for some tests and procedures--all unexpected--and the rest of life just had to get put on hold. Including ye ol' blog. I have a good excuse, and while I don't blame my parents for too many of my failures in life, this one can definitely be chalked up to them!

(Of course, I am kidding--we are so fortunate that Mom is back home, resting and on the mend.)

Today, in addition to Mom's recovery, I am grateful for out-of-town family members who are currently in town. My sister Meredith arrived from Massachusetts (where she is in school to be a nurse practitioner, mostly, I think, because I am so cool and she wants to be just like me) for a three-week hiatus. Nana and Pa flew in from the great state of Oregon to hang with 6 of the 7 grand-daughters around Christmas time.

We all drove through Starry Nights again tonight--I think I liked it more the second time--so they could see it. The line tonight was a scene from "Field of Dreams" with car lights for days down Walnut Grove. Fortunately, we came in from the Whitten Rd side and somehow managed to bypass a good portion of the line. Still, what took 20 minutes last week took an hour tonight. Worth it. We also got Gridley's barbecue, a throw-back to my youth, because Gridley's was our barbecue of choice back then. Those buttery loaf-style rolls, the peppery sauce, hmmmmm. We were quite a sight--grandparents, aunt, parents, our kids and one sweet cousin Annsley, all spilling drinks, dropping forks, and playing with the old-school boxing games they had on display. Molly kept Annsley and Amelia entertained with a silly rhyme from Dora's Christmas Carol. A fabulous, Christmasy night, that ended with hot chocolate for the only kid still awake (Molly) when we rolled home.

Some pictures from Gridley's:

Other exciting events for today, which was the last day of school in 2009: Molly's and Rebecca's classes both had Christmas parties to which parents were invited. Meredith and I went to both soirees. Some pictures:

Baking Up A Mess

2009-12-15T23:07:00.006-06:00

Tonight we made Christmas cookies. For some reason (and I'm sure there's an easy fix for this) when I make sugar cookies from the tube-o-dough and I try to use cookie cutters, my shapes end up puffy and disfigured. They cut fine, but they poof out and, at best, they keep their shape but in bloated form, or, at worst, they seem to morph into a completely unrecognizeable shape. This time, no different. But when your customers are 8, 5, and 2 (x2), the bar is set pretty low. What mattered was that there were lots of messy, color-staining choices with which to decorate. For 12 cookies, they used the entire jar of 5-color sugar, 6 gel writer icing tubes and a jar of spreadable frosting. Classic--and tasty!

One Battle Conquered!

2009-12-14T23:19:00.004-06:00

My Number One kid-related purchase in the last year: the days-of-the-week clothing organizers that hang in the girls' closets. Each labeled day has a pocket for the outfit of the day. On Sunday nights, Molly and Rebecca and I pick out their clothes for the week, keeping in mind which day is gym day, which days it will be colder, which day has some theme for school (spirit day, PJ day, etc.). This has eliminated SO many early morning squabbles about what matches, what's inappropriate for weather, where the socks are located, etc. With this system, they feel that they have a choice in what they wear, and any conflicts are resolved all at once, with clear heads and without sleepy eyes & grumpy morning attitudes. I cannot being to describe how much more peaceful our home is with these devices. If you have children who have an opinion about what they wear and when they wear it, you must get these. Ours are from Home Depot, believe it or not. The best $20 you will ever spend.

Alpine Village

2009-12-13T23:44:00.001-06:00

One of my new favorite Christmas traditions is our church's Alpine Village. The gym is decorated with village shops for the kids to visit--they decorate gingerbread men, choose a book, get candy, make a wooden toy, hang an ornament, etc. There's an area with fake snow coming from the sky so kids can play in the snow (something we don't often get to do around here). The North Pole is upstairs, with Santa waiting to hear all the children's wishes. Our puppet ministry team performs a terrific puppet show. A live nativity reminds us of why we celebrate Christmas. It's all free and manned by hundreds of volunteers, planned for months in advance. It's hard to describe in words and even harder to capture photographically--because the lighting is low and the place is large--but here are a few shots of the girls enjoying the day. We brought along some friends and Papa, too!

Dear Santa, We Have Been Very Good This Year!

2009-12-12T22:55:00.000-06:00

Songs on the Naughty List

2009-12-11T23:59:00.000-06:00

Perhaps I am a Scrooge. There are certain Christmas songs I just can't tolerate. First of all, before Thanksgiving, no Christmas songs should be played in public. As with most things, I think people can do whatever they need to do in the privacy of their own homes. But in stores and on the radio, the season starts the day after Thankgiving--and not a day earlier!

The songs on my naughty list are: Silver Bells, The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, and Blue Christmas. If I never hear those songs again, I'll be a happy camper. Most of the others are fine, and even great, but those three can go live in Song Purgatory.

On a positive note, I love Winter Wonderland; Hark! The Herald Angels Sing; Joy to the World; Silent Night; Mary Did You Know; O Come, O Come Emmanuel and Jingle Bells. I even like The Twelve Days of Christmas and Do You Hear What I Hear, both of which are much-maligned by others, probably because they seem to go on and on.

So, take your silver bells and stick 'em where the sun don't shine. But give me Parson Brown and baby Jesus anyday!

My Latest Obsession

2009-12-10T20:07:00.004-06:00

Have you heard of Pioneer Woman? Her name is Ree Drummond, a city girl who married a rancher and now lives "in the middle of nowhere on a working cattle ranch" where she raises 4 kids and blogs about her life. She takes stunning photographs, homeschools her kids, writes gracefully and with humor, and cooks phenomenal food (has a new cookbook out, as a matter of fact). In other words, she is every woman's hero and nightmare all rolled up in a pretty little redheaded package. She calls her story "From Black Heels to Tractor Wheels." You can follow her blog, prepare her recipes and be her fan on Facebook. Try her--you won't be sorry!

www.thepioneerwoman.com

Starry Nights

2009-12-09T23:41:00.000-06:00

Shelby Farms has brought back an older Memphis tradition--Starry Nights. Patrons drive through the expansive park looking at light displays, big and small. We all donned our Santa hats & sang Christmas carols on the way there, with a brief stop at an impressive house display in a neighborhood near ours, where the lights are synchronized to music that you hear when you tune your radio to the proper station. Lots of oohing and aahing, with hot chocolate at the end = winter fun for all!

Morris

2009-12-08T23:05:00.001-06:00

Our latest Christmas tradition is Elf on a Shelf. The kit comes with a book about Santa's elves who can come to your home during the Christmas season. The owners name the elf, sign him up to receive an adoption certificate, and place him on a shelf. Each night, the elf magically travels to the North Pole to report to Santa the naughty and nice things he has seen in the house that has adopted him. In the morning, he is in a new place in the house, and the household members have to find him. The main rule--as outlined in the book--is that no one in the house can touch the elf. If he is touched, he loses his magic and can no longer travel or move.

We named our elf "Morris." Why Morris? Who knows? First we determined he was a he. Other name choices: Elfie, Edgar, Bob, Frank, Tim, Lars. I suggested Ivan or Boris. Boris got a couple of votes, then Molly (or was it Rebecca?) said, "What about Morris?" Unanimous.

Morris came to our house on December 1. He has been in the Christmas tree, in the Christmas card holder, on the mantle in the office, in the leftover Halloween candy dish, in the Nativity, and twice in the Christmas village. Molly started leaving little notes next to him for him to give to Santa: "Who needs the postal service? We've got Morris!" she said. When Rebecca was sick earlier this week and couldn't go to school on the day that Father Christmas was supposed to leave candy in their shoes, she was heartbroken. Molly wrote a note to Santa asking him to bring a little something a little early, since Rebecca was going to miss the treats at school. Morris brought a Littlest Pet Shop toy when he came back from the North Pole on Tuesday morning.

Magic!

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

2009-12-07T23:55:00.003-06:00

In my previous post, I bragged about finishing my Christmas shopping. And wrapping everything. While I am still proud of this feat, I also realize that I have sort of set myself up for an anti-climactic holiday season. The errands and general December frenzy are no longer with me. And, well, now I'm a little disappointed that I have to wait another 3 weeks for Christmas, because I am ready now. Pathetic, aren't I?

Peter had this great Sunday School lesson for our kindergartners on Sunday (not sure how much seeped in, because that day turned out to be a behavioral, shall we say, challenge--I was home with two sick girls, but apparently the term "lock-down" was employed!). The lesson was about the angels God sent to Mary to tell her she was going to be a mother, The Mother. Peter started out by asking what things the kids are seeing that tell them Christmas is coming--Christmas trees, gingerbread men, Santa at the mall, songs on the radio, etc. He asked how all these signs made them feel--happy, excited, ready for Christmas, right? The anticipation (big word for kindergartners) keeps building. God sent the angel as a sign to Mary, and she also began to anticipate what would be happening. He talked about what "angel" means--messenger--and what messages God sends us.

So now that I have finished the shopping, the wrapping, the decorating, I need to step back, take a deep breath, and enjoy the anticipation, the Waiting that Advent offers. I can be more prayerful, more deliberate, more...dare I say it...patient this year. I can open myself up to the messengers God sends for me this season. Here I am, Lord!

8 Going on 18

2009-12-06T22:56:00.003-06:00

Molly's birthday was a week ago. She turned 8. I am beyond amazed that she is that old. Some days, I am easily reminded of how innocent she still is. On other days, she asks questions I am not ready to acknowledge she is even thinking about. She is thoughtful, smart, curious, creative and gentle. She knows what she likes, and isn't afraid to tell you what she doesn't. I see manifestations of the growing-up in her mind--she loves to play with barbies and watch Scooby Doo, but she also wants to wear lip gloss and talk on the phone. She wonders why she cannot shave her legs, but also wants to cuddle up with Mommy and Daddy under the blanket to watch cartoons. This year, she accepted Christ as her Savior, made a public profession of faith, and was baptized. I see this commitment in how she treats others and prays out loud with poise and confidence.

Her actual birth was at once perfect--because she was--and imperfect. It has taken some serious processing for me to accept how my labor transpired and to find peace with the eventual c-section. For a midwife, this is no easy task! But the bottom line is that Molly Abigail Marsh was born in perfect health at 4:50 p.m. on November 30, 2001, and my life truly started at that moment.

Channeling My Inner-Monica

2009-12-05T22:21:00.003-06:00

When I was in college, every Thursday night, we put all schoolwork on hold for NBC's Must See TV. The living room in our dorm (and, later, around the TV in someone's room) was packed with young women, mostly in PJs, some knitting or snacking. We watched Friends, Seinfeld and ER, in that order. Both Friends and Seinfeld had their series finales during my last year of college--as though there were no reason for the shows to continue without all of us to watch. ER sort of jumped the shark after that, too (you know that term, right?).

One of the main characters on Friends was Monica Geller, who was organized to a fault. She had notebooks with color-tabbed sections, spices arranged in ABC order, perfectly clean bathrooms and bedrooms. She defined Type A.

Sometimes I want to be that way, too, but the reality is that my car hides French fries and cracker crumbs, my bathtub needs more than a little TLC and my closet quickly becomes a bottomless pit of things that have no other home in our home, no matter how often I put "Clean Closet" on my To-Do List. I have some of my family's tendencies toward hoarding--not like on that truly disturbing TV show, but the notion that I might need that again someday and you just never know...! So I fight that tendency with organization. If it's organized well and I can find it easily, I can justify keeping it. If it looks clean, it is clean, right?

We have a big dry erase board with a calendar grid hanging in the hallway to the garage. Each month I happily erase the days gone by and replace them with up-and-coming events. Each family member is a certain color, with one color reserved for the entire family. That way, anyone can look at the calendar and know what's coming up, which days are potentially free for planning other events, and where Mommy and Daddy are on any given day (office, clinic, hospital on-call, out of town). When I am on call, Peter can see that he needs to make sure Molly gets to Girl Scouts. When Peter is out of town, I'll remember that he has poker night on the day he gets back. Molly and Rebecca only buy lunch on certain days, depending on the school's menu, so we all look at the menu at the first of the month so we can mark which days Peter and I can avoid packing lunches. It's a beautiful thing. And it makes me feel like I have a teeny-tiny bit of control in an otherwise beautifully hectic life. Monica would be so proud.

P.S. "Jump the shark" is a term that refers to a moment or a season when a TV show took a turn for the worse. It originates with Happy Days, when they went to Hawaii and Fonzie performed a stunt when he jumped a shark. The show was not as good after that. Other famous jump the shark moments would be when that new little cousin moved in on The Brady Bunch, when a new baby brother was born on Family Ties or when that teenage girl cousin moved in on The Cosby Show (for the record, the Cosby Show survived the add-a-kid pitfall when they added little Olivia).

The Budget

2009-12-04T23:06:00.002-06:00

Money. Ick. Pretty high on my list of things I don't like to talk about--mine, the government's, or anyone else's. For many years, I did the bills in our family. It was stressful. At some point, after one of the girls' births (Rebecca's?), I gladly handed the reigns to the finance-minded one in our house, and felt a tremendous weight lifted. Of course, whatever financial situations we're in, good or bad, I am still part of it, but looking at it on paper over and over again was just overwhelming. And Pete will testify to the fact that I do not like to "go over the budget." Ever. I will, but I don't like it. Perhaps it sounds anti-feminist of me, but I'd rather just have an allowance and not think about the rest. Not reality, I know, but whatever.

I don't love to shop. I enjoy time to myself to browse, but generally, I sort of shop like a guy. I know what I want, I go in, I buy, I leave. This is especially true at Christmas. Parking 6 miles away; worried someone will break into my car and take what's there, even if I "stow it, don't show it" like the police ads suggest; waiting in lines; resisting the extraneous purchases just 'cause "it's a good deal." I try to avoid the mall at all costs. If I have to go there, I try to limit my trip to the department stores that have a door to the outside. And I despise Wal-Mart (another post unto itself). Black Friday baffles me--it is my idea of Hell.

All this just to brag that I have completed my Christmas shopping and I have stayed within the budget we set for the year. Hooray for me! AND I have even wrapped it all and fit each package securely under the tree. Is it possible and even likely that Amelia will tear into some packages in the next 3 weeks? Yes. Have I tried to shove all the gift bags deep under the tree so she doesn't have easy access? Yes. Doesn't matter, because I am finished, and I am happy. And I don't have to think about that Christmas budget anymore in 2009!

It's A Wonderful Polar Vacation on Christmas Story Street

2009-12-03T22:50:00.000-06:00

Some of my favorite memories from childhood include movies. Going to the theater to see them, getting our first VCR and renting VHS tapes (not betamax), waiting for them on TV. My dad inhales popcorn (really and truly--this is a sight to behold) and instilled the need for such food early on. We were microwave popcorn nuts when Orville was the only choice. The first movie I remember seeing in the movie theater was Star Wars. The original one, which I realize is the 4th one, but really was the first one--you know what I'm saying. I may have seen some before this one, but it's the first I remember. Another significant movie-going experience was seeing ET. I went with some family friends, Tom and Sharon, the same weekend my grandfather was dying. A distraction of sorts. I have seen both of these movies at least a dozen times since, and they never grow old, reigniting the same excitement, fear, thrills and heart-tugging, even though I know full well what will happen.

We regularly have family movie night, when we don our jammies, pop some corn and watch something together. We also try to see movies in the theater when we can--balancing various ages of children and attention spans, finding babysitters when these cannot be accomodated or when the movie is too mature. Always with popcorn--despite all the recent health warnings about how extraordinarily awful it is for you.

Now that it's Christmastime, some of my very favorites must be seen and seen again. Everyone has a favorite--mine, hands down, is It's A Wonderful Life. You have to see it all the way through, and if you haven't, you have missed out. I hesitate to build it up this way, because one movie was lifted so high for me before I saw it, that I was completely let down when I finally did. That movie was A Christmas Story. Couldn't get into it, thought it was cheesy and silly and not very good. I could be crucified for speaking so ill of such a beloved film, but I just didn't get the hype. So I will refrain from heaping praise on Jimmy Stewart's finest effort so that those who haven't seen it can do so without hype.

Other great Christmas movies include Miracle on 34th Street and Polar Express. I also like two more recent ones, Elf and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Now I won't let my kids see Christmas Vacation yet--a little too mature (no, immature?) for them, I think. But Miracle and Polar have already graced our TV this year, and It's a Wonderful Life in on tap for tomorrow night.

What are your Christmas favorites?

Random Acts of Kindness

2009-12-02T18:59:00.002-06:00

Good Deed of the Day
Today was a rare DONKAH (day off, no kids at home). I generally only get to have these when I work the weekend before or after--in this case, I am on call for 24 hrs this Saturday. So after loading the big girls onto the school bus and shuttling Amelia off to daycare, I decided to hit Chick-Fil-A for breakfast. Spying a ridiculously long line, I parked and went in. I figured I could enjoy my fruit and chicken while plotting my Game Plan for the day (which I meticulously planned to the minute, in typical Type A fashion). Good people eat at Chick-Fil-A. Maybe it's because the founder is Christian and keeps his restaurants closed on Sundays, so people who are Christian think it's a better place to eat because of this? Who knows? But today, the good patrons of Chick-Fil-A were shining bright.

Three guys in their early 20s (young whippersnappers) apparently had car trouble--well, in this case, truck trouble. It was a full-size truck, and in the parking lot, where space is already at a premium and the drive-thru line wrapped around the building, this truck was very inconveniently perched. It was also chilly and pouring down rain. One guy was steering, and the other two were pushing, without much luck. A man sitting at a table near me leapt up from his seat and went outside in the rain to help. A guy in the drive-thru line got out from the passenger side of his car and helped. In no time, the struggling trio had successfully moved the big truck into a parking place, with the help of two generous strangers. The inside patron came back in, dripping wet, and sat back down with his dining companion as though this had been no big deal. But I thought it was a big deal--a random act of kindness, well-placed in this season of giving.

You've probably heard this diddy singing the praises of Chick-Fil-A, but just in case, here it is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsJHqstPuNo

The Challenge and Suing The Pants Off 'Em

2009-12-01T19:28:00.004-06:00

I am challenging myself to post on the blog every day in December. It is entirely possible that no one will benefit from this except me, but in all reality, isn't blogging pretty self-centered to begin with? Blogging is sort of public journaling and since I've left my beloved journals behind in this electronic age, this seems like a good exercise in discipline.

The topic du jour is frivolous lawsuits. I heard two separate stories on NPR today that disturbed me, one about the Australian song about the kookaboro bird, the other about the artesian wells running under the city of Memphis. Apparently, a gameshow in Australia featured a trivia question asking contestants to name the children's tune heard in the song "Down Under" by Men at Work (a long-defunct Australian band). None of the contestants could name it, and until I heard this NPR story, I couldn't even have picked it from a multiple choice list! But there's a little flute action in "Down Under" that sounds like the kookaboro song (you remember this song--you learned it in elementary school: he sits in an old gum tree and he laughs). After watching this show, the person who owns the rights to the kookaboro song sued Men at Work and their record label. "Down Under" has been around for more than 20 years, but NOW the kookaboro person is suing. How insane is that? The kookaboro song is the Australian equivalent of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star--but apparently it is not in the public domain. As I listened to the story, part of me said, well, at least this is in another country--usually it's the dingbats in this country that pull stupid things like that. A few minutes later, NPR airs another story from right here in our fair city. The state of Mississippi is suing the City of Memphis for "stealing its water." There are artesian wells that run under the Mid-South area (Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas, and part of Kentucky). From these wells, Memphians have been getting their water since the 1880s. Mississippi has decided that the way the water is being funneled is akin to stealing the water from their state. Now I would like to take a poll of people in Mississippi asking how many of them support this multi-year legal effort (I believe it started in 2005), which has now been appealed to the US Supreme Court. So far, two lower courts have ruled in favor of the City (by indicating that this is a state-to-state issue that should be resolved at the US level). Do we or do we not have more important issues that our Justice System needs to address? Really.

And don't even get me started about medical malpractice/tort reform and the defensive practice of medicine.... We'll save that one for another December post!