Ephraim cousins

The Ephraim cousins are really the Boise cousins. But my sister-in-law is visiting her parents this summer in Ephraim, which is much closer than Boise, so we took advantage of the proximity to have another little cousin reunion.

On the way down to Ephraim, David learned what it's like to travel in the West--it's a long, long way between points of civilization (meaning, gas stations with bathrooms). So he had to pee on the side of the road. Yes, his first time ever. I realized he's lived a sterile existence because 1) he wanted to know where he was going to wash his hands afterwards and 2) on our way back to the car he remarked, "Somebody's gotta clean that up!" (So do his concerned reactions to peeing on the side of road signal a parental failure or success?)

My sister-in-law's parents live in a beautiful old house with a wonderful backyard, perfect for...

playing in the baby pool...

napping in Grandma's arms...
having your first encounter with a Barbie...
(David was concerned that she had no clothes and impressed that her legs could run and kick.)

fishing...
picking raspberries...


eating yummy food...
taking the dog for a walk...
(That's my nephew with my family's dog, Roderick, who got to come with us too.)

wading in the creek...
and playing the piano...
We also couldn't miss the opportunity to drive down to Manti to see the temple. David loves to hear the story of how when he was a tiny baby he and Mommy flew on three airplanes and crossed an ocean to see his aunt and uncle get married in this temple.


Thanks to all who made this such a great day!

The evening popsicle

David has two mommies

David has had difficulty understanding the concept that Daddy is still his daddy even though Daddy is far away.

Since his daddy is far away, Grandma Evie has kindly come to help out, full-time. The consequence is that Grandma quickly lost her "grandma lustre" and was reduced to the lowly status of "parent."

As a result of the recent changes around here, David announced, "I don't got no daddy! I got two mommies." (As evidenced by the whine in his voice, having two mommies is apparently a really bad thing.)

I dutifully clarified the situation for him, but he insisted, "There's no daddy in this family! There are just two mommies in this family!"

At Greg's request, I have been working diligently to convince David that he still has a daddy. I hope to have the matter cleared up by the end of summer. While nary an eyelash would be batted at his summer camp here in Park City, I'm not sure how an announcement of "I have two mommies!" will go over at preschool in conservative Flower Mound, Texas.

As for David's other mommy, I am deeply grateful that she is an understanding and pragmatic grandma--able to love, cherish, appreciate (and do water guns with) a grandson who, at this difficult point in time, doesn't bestow on her all the adoration she deserves. I owe my mom a huge debt of gratitude: for I have put her in the position of a primary caregiver, and, as any good primary caregiver, she has to say no sometimes to her grandchildren. Something no grandma ever wants to do.

I, for one, feel very blessed that David and Mary have "two mommies" right now. Two is definitely better than one.

Pioneer Day

On Friday--which was the 24th of July, aka Pioneer Day here in Utah--I dropped David off at summer camp, put Mary in the backpack, and hiked down Bald Mountain with Aunt Marie and my mom. Yes, you read that correctly, I hiked down the mountain. We did it the wimpy way and took one of the Deer Valley lifts to the top. I don't think any amount of Zumba classes could prepare me to hike up any mountain with Mary on my back. Besides, we had to be back to pick David up at noon--that's a good excuse, right?

It was still an adventure, as the trail was steep, and it was slow going. But it was so much fun. Mary enjoyed the ride, and, after a brief nap, sang "Five Little Monkeys" to herself all the way down. The views were beautiful, and I was amazed by the wildflowers. I also must say that one of my very favorite sounds is the gentle rustling of aspen leaves in the breeze.

Here are Marie and my mom after our strenuous ride to the top. (My mom is making a perky I-see-a-cute-little-girl face for Mary, who was on the photographer's back. Those two are getting to be great friends.)

(By the way, we did make an appearance that evening at the Park City Pioneer Day Celebration. Okay, so we only stayed two minutes before David decided he'd rather skip the chaos and head to the playground. But you can't be in Utah on the 24th of July without doing something to commemorate Pioneer Day!)

Soccer mom for a week

David went to soccer camp last week. He was so excited about it.

David has never played soccer before. And, to be honest, neither have I. Seriously. Never. Not even in P.E. (I know, what kind of childhood did I have?)

Fortunately, before Greg left, we took a family trip to Dick's for shin guards and such. Unfortunately, Greg was not here the morning of the first day of soccer camp, so I was left to my own devices when it came to getting David outfitted. How complicated can putting a pair of shin guards on your kid be? Too complicated for me, I guess, because I had no clue what to do with THOSE SOCKS THAT WENT UP TO HIS EARS. Did they go under the shin guards? Or over? And why were they five feet long? I considered texting Deanna an S.O.S. in the middle of her family reunion camp out, but it think it was pride that prevented me. I may not have played soccer, but I have a brain, right? I finally figured it out (I think) and subsequently sent David off to his first experience with organized sports. (With my heart full of gratitude that this wasn't something with as much gear as ice hockey--where, under my supervision, he undoubtedly would have shown up with knee pads on his elbows and a helmet on his butt.)

On the very first day David got to play goalie (#10):

He was very excited about being goalie. When I asked him about it after camp, he said, "Yeah, I love being the goalie. I put the ball in the net over and over."

I knew enough about soccer to have responded, "Well, I think the goalie STOPS the ball from going into net."

David: "Why would the goalie do that?"

Uh-oh.

He also explained to me that when he was goalie, he used a special camera to search the field looking for injured kids. Here he is with his "camera":

(And I thought he was watching the ball.)

Here is an "action shot."

It's the only one I got. And, to be perfectly honest, I think this is actually a picture of David playing "Superman tag," which they did for a warm-up every morning. (At the end of the week, I asked David what he had learned at soccer camp. He said, "How to play Superman tag." That's okay because Superman tag is probably more important socially for 4-year-olds than soccer.)

On our way to camp on the final day, David informed me that he was going to tell his coaches that he is going to be a baseball player when he grows up. Concerned that this might not exactly endear him to his coaches, I suggested that he tell them he wants to be SOCCER player when he grows up.

And with that "duh, Mom" look on his face, he responded, "Mom, I want to be a baseball player when I GROW UP. I already AM a soccer player NOW."

Or something like that.

Bienvenidos

Welcome to my new blog!

(I considered maintaining the old original, but I am too averse to putting salad and mashed potatoes on the same plate.)

I assume you already know me and my little crew from real life and/or my previous blog, Twelve Months in the Creek, which chronicled the last twelve (er, twelve plus) months of our life in Ohio, where Greg was in graduate school at the Air Force Institute of Technology. If you're new and feeling a bit lost, you could always browse around the old blog searching for context. But that seems as if it could be rather tedious, so here's a quick introduction.

I am Alisa, and this is my blog.

My kids are David (4) and Mary (almost 2). They are very energetic and very cute, if I do say so myself.

Greg is my husband. He's a civil engineer in the Air Force. He is currently fulfilling a one year assignment at Soto Cano Air Base in Honduras. Mary, David, and I are not with him. We will be spending the year with my parents in Flower Mound, Texas. Right now we are in Park City, enjoying a summer in the mountains.

Thus began our year of separation.

Although I have a lot of great support, single momhood is kicking my booty. Time to blog is a luxury. But also a necessity: I need it to help me reflect, to laugh, to appreciate my children, and to connect to people (like you). And now I need it--in addition to phone calls, emails, and packages--as another way to share my life with Greg. (Though the really private stuff will, of course, be restricted to those phone calls and emails to Honduras. Sorry.) You--and me--are still my primary audience. I may not post super frequently, but I promise you, myself, and my husband to post as regularly as possible.

I am Alisa, and this is my blog. My new blog. For a new stage of life. One year.

One year.

By the way, the title of my blog is nonsensical. Really, it doesn't mean anything. What is significant is that I pulled the words from John Donne's "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning." So the aery beat doesn't mean anything, but that poem means a great deal to me right now. The ideas in the poem speak to my heart. Especially this year. But I will save the explication for another day.

My first post is "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning"

(by John Donne)

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

So let us melt, and make no noise, (5)
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;
Men reckon what it did, and meant; (10)
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
—Whose soul is sense—cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove (15)
The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss. (20)

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so (25)
As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam, (30)
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just, (35)
And makes me end where I begun.

Source:
Donne, John. Poems of John Donne. vol I.
E. K. Chambers, ed.
London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1896. 51-52.