Ready, Set, DERBY

You should have seen the flicker in Jeff's eyes the day Taiden brought home his unsculptured block of wood for the upcoming Pinewood Derby.  A flash that I knew could only mean a resurgence of boyish competitiveness from yesteryears. He cracked a smile and assured Taiden that their car was going to be something to behold.

After sometime at G'pa Gregson's house using some sort of thing-a-ma-saw, a naked profile of a car emerged.  Then came the shiny, metallic paint.  12 coats of shiny, metallic paint.  12 coats I tell you!  Necessary?  Probably not to an uneducated non-Derby person like myself.  But Jeff assured me it was a must.

Racing stripes appeared.  Then came the weights.  I heard something about fishing weights.  This ain't no pansy wansy car.  No way.  Fishing weights gives it the ghetto, old school flare.  Multiple holes drilled and weights secured snugly inside.  Dry graphite lubricant was then applied and there was lots of wheel spinning.  Necessary or simply ritualistic?  I'm still not quite sure.

The big night came and Taiden was casually pumped up for the games to begin.  He and Jeff are so much alike.  Calm and collected on the outside.  You have to look into their eye to see the true fire within.  They were both focused and eager so see what the competition looked like.

G'pa Gregson came over to watch and support.  The races started and we realized that, with 5 cars zipping down a long wooden track, it is sometimes hard for the judges to always call an accurate winner of each heat.  We confirmed that Taiden's first race.  2nd should have been 1st but what can you do?  This is a church activity.  Sis. __________ isn't getting paid to be a judge, she just has to be the judge because she's a den mother.  Do you cry "Foul!  I want a rematch!" ?

The 2nd race was better; he took 1st.  Then tied for 1st; Jeff and G'pa both raised their eyebrows in question.  Then another 2nd place.  Taiden paced up and down the track.  Not from nervousness, but from being in the moment.  

Results were announced but he didn't make the top 3.  He questioned the validity of the first race ("maybe that's why I wasn't one of the winners, mom?") but we had to put on our parental hats and give a mature answer about "life- not-always-being-fair-and-people-are-doing-their-best-at-judging-fast-cars-crossing-the-finish-line-and-maybe-somebody-forgot-to-put-on-their-glasses-this-morning."  It's hard to be the adult sometimes.

I think Jeff may invest in a finish line camera next time around. That flicker is still in his eye.

Tallying the Votes

300+  7th graders voted.

The votes were counted.

The counted votes determined the winners.

The winners were:

Kenzie Stinger

Nate Ferguson

KENNEDY GREGSON!!!

Thanks to all of Kennedy's well-wishers.  We appreciate your phone calls, comments, letters of support, and love.  2009-2010 will be a memorable school year for her.  

We're so proud of our Sweets.

Edible Apologies

Hello, my name is Kristen.  I am long winded.  In both written and verbal words.  I apologize to those who appreciate brevity.  

You will not find any around here.  But, welcome anyway.

I'm all about parents being humble enough to apologize to their kids when they make a mistake. We teach by example.  We goof up in this trial and error challenge called parenting? We apologize.  We say, "I'm sorry".  We strive to not make the same mistake again.  Admitting to your kids that even mom and dad blow it sometimes is not a sign of weakness.  

I readily admit that I have to apologize to my kids more often than not.  I am not a patient person and my fuse is mighty short.  I'm also an over reactor which I've openly confessed in previous posts.  It's a weakness I hope to someday rein in and tame.  

I think the majority of my apologies are in regards to my intolerance in the morning hours.  We have still, after 8 years of attending public schools, NOT figured out an effective morning routine.  There is WAY too much talking.  Too much laughing.  Too much time lingering over a soggy bowl of Kix.  Should it really take you 30 minutes to consume 1.5 servings?  Too many arguments over which Star Wars character could whoop another Star Wars character. Too much rummaging through mom's make up and jewelry box to see what can be borrowed (not to worry, that pertains to Kennedy only).  Too much off task behavior.  Too much reminding from dad.  Too much yelling from mom!

Last Friday, Taiden had a rough morning and I had an even rougher one.  I lost my cool and was in full blown "last-person-to-ever-get-mommy-of-the-year-award-and-first-person-to-lose-her-voice-permanently-from-blowing-out-her-vocal-chords-because-of-overuse" mode.  I had had it!  I drove Brittan to school and dropped him off early so I could get back to deal with his older sibling.  As Britt scattered out of the car, I could tell he was relieved to be out of my reach because the talons were out and I was not in the mood.

Taiden ended up leaving the house 10 minutes late.  He had to run the whole way to school in hopes of catching the crossing guard before she was off duty.  After he left the house, and I had started on a cough drop to ease my scratchy throat (from the intensified decibel level) I wondered if he had learned his lesson.  Oh, I sure taught him.  Um.  Yeah.  Taught him.  

The only thing I taught him was how a mom should never act.  Never.  

So, the flood of guilt washed over me at that point.  I was ashamed.  I was horrified that I had lost complete and total control and that he had to go to school knowing he had the biggest jerk in the world as a mother.

Then the paranoid mind games started. What if he fell while running to school?  Maybe he was wreathing in pain somewhere and nobody was there to help him up (flashback to "I've fallen and I can't get up!" scenario).  Or, maybe he ran the whole way with tears streaming down his face, blurring his vision, and causing him to take a left rather than a right at the corner, and heading him towards Kaysville.  What if he stops and realizes that he is far from home?  What if he sits on the curb and starts to cry even harder?  Or, what if he was abducted by aliens?  The mothership swoops down, ZAP!, and he is gone.  (You know those darn aliens love to implant things into the back of humans' necks, don't you?  Ever watch the X-Files?)

All joking aside, I felt awful.  I really do let my mind wander and imagine the worst things happening.  I am often tempted to call the school to make sure they arrive safely when they run late.  It's my guilty conscience giving me a work over.  And boy, is it a work over.

On the occasions such as this, I usually have one course of action.  I head to the school at lunchtime.  I have to see them and put my arms around them.  It's a pitiful attempt to remedy my mistake, but I have to do it.  I usually stay and eat lunch with them.  It's what I do. On Friday, I checked Taiden out and took him to lunch.  I broke into an apology the minute we got in the car and I couldn't hold in my waterworks.  The floodgates opened and I was completely consumed with regret. Sincere regret.  

We had an enjoyable lunch and a good talk.  My kids don't hold grudges or cling to hard feelings.  We adults could learn a lesson from them.  He knew that I was sorry and that there was no excuse for my actions.  Late morning or not, losing my cool was not appropriate in any way, shape or form.  I need to stop being a yeller. We talked about what we both could do to make our morning routine smoother and planned to sit down and discuss it as a family.

I also checked the back of his neck for an alien chip.  All clear.

In summary, I've got a lot of improving to do as a mom.  I pray everyday that I can do what's right for my kids.  I love them.  I know we all have moments that we wish we could take back. Moments in which we gave a less than stellar performance as mom or dad.  I hope these cloudy moments are faded by the bright instances when I can show my kids how much they mean to me.  Instances when I put my love and concern for them ahead of time schedules and  the busy tasks of life.  They mean everything to me.  I need to learn to show it constantly, even when life doesn't unfold into a perfectly seamless flow.

Edible apologies are breaking my bank and breaking my heart.

I will do better.

Le Petit Gateau

Here's my novice attempt at making cupcake bites.

First runs of projects always tend to be rough for me, so next time I'm sure they will look maybe half as good as Bakerella's.

Jeff took these miniature bites into work to share.  Once it hit me that therapists and psychologists were going to be seeing these, and eating these, and analyzing these, I started to feel some mild anxiety:  

Does how you make a cupcake bite reflect your inner peace or turmoil?  Too many sprinkles, not enough sprinkles?  No perfectly seamless chocolate exterior; what does that mean?

No uniformity in the cake ball on the inside!  Does that suggest my life is asymmetrical and lopsided?  What can this say about me and my psyche? 

My conclusion is one of 2 things:  I either completely over analyze everything and I need to chill or I'm paranoid and will never send anything to Jeff's work again.

Thanks for listening.

13 to 6

Kennedy is 1 of the final 6 left in the election.

We'll know next week who the 3 winners are.

Keep your fingers crossed (and your toes) (and your eyes) 

(and your T's).

Thanks for your kind words of love and support.  

We appreciate you all!

A Mother's Ultimatum to Her Infant Son

Dear Shaw,

We need to talk.  I hate to do this but I have no choice.

Honey, if you clamp down on me one more time, we are done.  I'm gonna have to cut you off. 

Those 3 little pearly buds are like shards of glass.  They're cuter than cute when you generously flash them with enthusiasm.  However, they don't feel cute.

I hate to sound ungrateful, Shaw.  You and I have had a good working relationship.  I've done my part and you have, usually frantically, done your part.  Very efficiently, I might add.  It's been a blessing to serve you in this way.  I've loved every moment.  Even in the early hours of the morning.  It's just been you and me.  I have tried to secure these personal moments in the archives of my mind. I have loved it.

Maybe it's Mother Nature's way of telling us that it is time to part.  Oh, how bittersweet that will be.

You aren't trying to be mean.  You just can't smile and talk and eat at the same time.  That's the lethal combination.

So, please son, let's make these last few waning weaning weeks pleasant for both of us.  Please.

If not, then it's off to Enfamil land for you.   

Love,

Mommy :)

On the Campaign Trail

This is a big week for Kennedy.  First, she cut her long hair off.  Chop and it was gone. 

Let me just quickly add here that while her hair was beautiful when it was still attached to her head, it is creepin' me out seeing it sit in a bag (waiting to be mailed off to Locks of Love). 6 ponytails look eerie stashed in a ziplock...so inhuman and unnatural.

Anyhoo, her next big step is transpiring today.  She is running for 8th grade officer.  I love that she is finding interest in doing the same kinds of things that Jeff and I did when we were young. But on that same note, I know what it's like to feel the stress, pressure and insecurities that come along the campaign trail.

Will people vote for me?

What if people vote for those who are more vocal or aggressive campaigners? (which she is not)

What if people write on my posters?  Or worse, tear them down?  (Jr. High, remember?) 

She is brave.   To be willing to put yourself out there for all to analyze and decide if they are willing to give you their approval?  At almost 13 years?  The very definition of bravery!  

The great thing about my daughter is that she is always true to herself.  What you see is what you get.  No theatrics.  No drama.  No insincerity or phony baloney.  She is Kennedy at home and at school and at church.  The same girl everywhere she goes.  I hope kids at her school can see that.  She is solid and acts her age.  This is a good thing.  She is 12 going on 13...not 12 going on 16.  I hope kids don't hold that against her.  But again, this is Jr. High, right?

Here are her posters.  Ideas and creativity we have.  Artistry we have not.  Luckily, we have a decent printer and legible handwriting.  If I said it once I said it 6 dozen times over the weekend, "I wish Amy Gregson lived close by!"  She is the Gregson family muralist and artiste and a dynamite one at that!  

The candidates also had to put together a 3 minute video.  No more election assemblies and live skits?!  3 minutes doesn't sound like much, but this video took us hours to put together. Thanks to Jeff and iMovie for this diamond in the rough.  The quality of filming isn't top notch but we think the 7th graders will enjoy watching.  Kennedy loved it so mission accomplished!  And yes, Jeff is now looking into a career of voiceovers.

Also, as an added twist, she has a blog that she'll update daily about why she'd like to be an 8th grade officer.  It will let her peers get to know her a little bit better.  Check it out: www.kennedyforofficer.blogspot.com

A Philanthropic Act

We females are a curious sort. We make a decision and then we stew. And stew. And stew.

I should probably restate that to say: We females (in the Gregson household) are a curious sort. We make a decision and then we stew. And stew. And then ask everyone's opinion at least 10 dozen times.  And then deal only in random hypotheticals.  And then stew some more until the males (in the Gregson household) are ready to pack up and move to higher ground.

For years, Kennedy has wanted to let her hair grow out long enough to donate it to a non-profit organization called Locks of Love.  

"Locks of Love is a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children in the United States and Canada under age 18 suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis. We meet a unique need for children by using donated hair to create the highest quality hair prosthetics. Most of the children helped by Locks of Love have lost their hair due to a medical condition called alopecia areata, which has no known cause or cure. The prostheses we provide help to restore their self-esteem and their confidence, enabling them to face the world and their peers".

The minimum hair length to donate is 10 inches.  Her hair was finally long enough to meet that requirement so she took the plunge and went for it.  But not without a lot of fretting, and nail biting, and nervous butterflies (refer to first 2 paragraphs).  She knew she wanted to do it and that it was the right thing for her to do.  It's just a big step in parting with the long hair you've had for, well, forever.  She was extremely nervous!  I was helping a friend when the whole gang went to get their haircuts. Kennedy frantically called me asking me to hurry to the salon so I could be there with her when she parted ways with her long locks.  By the time it was all said and done, she had 12 - 13 inches cut off.

We're so proud of her.  She looks darling with her short, fresh A-Line.  She looks more grown up and looks like she's ready to turn 13 in less than a month.  She's seeing all the benefits of shorter hair.  Kennedy's feeling sassy and checking out her new look in any reflective surface she comes across.  She loves it!  

Proof that Taiden, as handsome of a kid as he is, would NOT make a pretty girl!

COOLPIX

Photography is at the top of Kennedy's list of things she's passionate about. Last summer she babysat and weeded for neighbors so that she could earn enough money to buy her own digital camera.

I borrowed her camera today to snap some shots and as I was going through the images I came across these pictures she's randomly taken. I thought they were cool and reflective of her life now.  I thought I would share.  

To Gab or Not to Gab

Facial features.  Hair color.  Intellect.  Body build.  Foot size.

These are characteristics that I know a person can inherit.  

But the gift of gab? I had no idea.

These 3 people are full fledged motormouths.

They like to talk A LOT!

They probably talk too much.

A quiet environment makes them uncomfortable and restless so they fill it with chatter.  

These 2 handsome gents are not at all like the 3 pictured above.

These guys like peace and quiet.

They're content with L-O-N-G  gaps of silence and tranquility.

They don't feel the need to give a play by play of ALL the day's events, who said what to whom, or what they think they might want to eat for lunch tomorrow.  

We're not sure about this little guy.  He could go either way.  If he could talk right now he'd tell you that he's figured out how to climb the stairs, that his mom rocks and is the coolest ever, but that he wishes his dad would stop treating him like a circus monkey.  Babies are not to be flipped and tossed about willy nilly.  Their faces are to be kissed and not used as places to stick green star fruit snacks on.  I'm sure that's what he'd say.  If he could talk.

Creature of Habit

Is it just me?  Am I the only one?  

Anyone out there in the territory called Utah having troubles dialing the phone lately?

Do I have problems with my short term memory processor?  Am I gumped?

As of the first of March, we now have to dial 801 before we dial any local phone number.  Even if it's to our neighbor.  Or our husband's cell phone.  Or our homemade vanilla vodka supplier (who might live kitty corner to us).  ANY call we make.  Apparently Utah is bustin' at the seams and there are no numbers left.  Dang population explosion!

This might seem like a trivial thing, but I have yet to remember to add the required area code on my own. Ever single time I've dialed the phone for the past week, I have to wait for the prompt from the pleasant automated lady to remind me.  I cain't remember!  I just cain't!  

I had to make a couple dozen phone calls for my church calling this afternoon.  I don't think I remembered to dial the area code on a single one.  Not one.  I probably shouldn't be cursin' while makin' calls for my church assignment but I was.  It doesn't help that I have to dial *82 to unblock our phone number.  Then dial the area code.  Then dial the phone number.  A lot to process for a simple girl like myself.

So I ask, is anyone out there experiencing the same dilemma?  How many times will I have to redial before it sticks?

A Boy in Motion

Brittan ran his 100th mile on Monday. The first child at his elementary school to do it. 100 miles! That's like running from Farmington to Provo and back.   Or from Farmington to Logan and back.  Or 400 laps around the track.  You get the idea.

I like to call this picture "slicky boy".  All slicked down and ready for school.  

(Yes, that is snow on the ground.  Another dusting of it this morning.  We're all ready for the end of winter and the warmish welcome of spring. My hands ache from the anticipation of getting in the soil and planting.  Can't wait!) 

For Your Tasting Pleasure

I'm no Barefoot Contessa, but I love her recipes and pine to be her neighbor.  Have you seen her herb garden?!  And she, according to her show, is always inviting people over to partake of her culinary splendor.  Neighbors, friends, and such.  I'd love to sit at her table and laugh at her sauteed tales and Jeffrey's intellectual stories.  Yes, I'd love to be her neighbor and occasionally "drop in" to borrow a cup of sugar right around lunch time...

I've been needing to add to my arsenal of recipes lately.  I have many tried and trues but after almost 16 years of marriage,  I feel like I am fixing a lot of the same things over and over again.  

My source?  www.foodnetwork.com.  I love the Food Network.  It fills most of my TV viewing time.  Alton Brown is a crack up.  Paula Deen - I'd love a bosomy hug from her.  Guy Fieri makes me want to jump in a convertible and hit the road in search of hidden restaurant gems.  I could definitely hang with Rachel Ray (the perky one), Bobby Flay (the cocky one), and Giada De Laurentiis (the pretty one).  Oh, and that lovable, orange croc wearin' good guy, Mario Batali!

But Ina Garten.  She may be my favorite.  A lady who is laid back, crafty in the kitchen, and always making favorites for her Jeffrey.  She's not afraid to proudly display years of gourmet genius...sporting it generously around her waist.  She makes everything sound good, look even better, and simplifies it enough that her fans can attempt it in their own homes.  I love her.  

Try this recipe.  It's from Ina.  You must follow the recipe exactly.  Don't skip the unusual ingredients you may not have in your cupboards or refrigerator.  Plan ahead.  Get all the ingredients.  Yes, the basil needs to be fresh.  Yes, you NEED the kalamata olives.  The recipe needs their robust flavor.  And definitely get the capers.  

This recipe will smack you in the face with flavor.  My kids loved this.  I doubled it for our family of 6.  Please try it!

Pasta with Sun-Dried Tomatoes

1/2 pound spiral pasta

Kosher salt

Olive oil

1 pound ripe tomatoes, medium-diced

3/4 cup kalamata olives, pitted and diced

1 pound mozzarella, medium diced (it calls for fresh mozzarella)

6 sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained and chopped

For the dressing:

5 sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained

2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar

6 Tbsp. olive oil

1 garlic clove, smashed

1 tsp. capers, drained

2 tsp. kosher salt

3/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

1 c. freshly grated Parmesan

1 c. packed basil leaves, julienned

Cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water with a splash of olive oil to keep it from sticking. Boil for 12 minutes, or according to the directions on the package.  Drain well and allow to cool. Place the pasta in a bowl and add the tomatoes, olives, mozzarella, and chopped sun-dried tomatoes.

For the dressing, combine the sun-dried tomatoes, vinegar, olive oil, garlic, capers, salt and pepper in a food processor until almost smooth.

Pour the dressing over the pasta, sprinkle with Parmesan and basil, and toss well.

Lows and Highs

Ugh!  I am now going on day 11 of being sick.  And I mean sick.  Congestion, achy bones, cough, irritability to the core.  I am on my 3rd box of Kleenex tissues and nth roll of T.P. trying to get some air in through my sinuses.  I am sick of being sick.

Kennedy pointed out today that I haven't updated my gratitude list in quite some time.  That's because I have had a crappy attitude lately while my body is retaliating against whatever flu bug is attacking me.  I've been glum.  I've been cabin fevered.  I've been anything but angelic to those within close proximity.  I guess I haven't been grateful as of late and have been having a major pity party.  What a big baby am I.

So, I thought I would try and muster up some positive reflecting so that the past week and a half has some worth.  Something of more value than simply giving me a raw tender nose and a mentally cloudy forecast.

Low:  I have the flu, Jeff has had ear infections in both ears, Britt has had a cough for 2 weeks, Shaw has had his second round of croup and an ear infection, Taiden has complained of a sore throat.

High:  Kennedy is not sick.  The rest of us will recover and live.  

Low:  Britt's persistent cough and red, red eyes.

High:  Britt told Jeff, "Dad, I think I need one of those prayers".  We knew to interpret this as a Priesthood blessing.  I am grateful I have a son who will ask and a husband who is worthy.

Low:  I have not been able to do any training for the race I will run in June.

High:  I went ahead and bought a pair of running shoes.  I've been visualizing successfully completing my legs of the relay race.  Without puking or passing out.

Low:   I have spent the majority of my time on the couch with juice at my side, Kleenex littering my surroundings and getting very sick of daytime TV.

High:  I have had to force myself outside for a daily walk to hold my place as a contender in the Gregson family Working Our Masses Off competition.  The sunshine has done me good and fresh air always provides a perk me up. 

Low:  Trying to cook.

High:  My mom-in-law brought us dinner Friday night.  My parents brought us homemade bran muffins and a ton of fresh fruit.  My dad can sure make a pretty fruit display.  

Low:  I can't taste a thing!  Not anything!  When my sinuses get congested like this it must put pressure on my olfactory bulb (for smell) and I can't taste a cotton pickin' thing.  The kids love to try and find something I can taste.  Peanut butter?  Nope.  Medicine?  Nada. Horseradish straight from the jar?  Negatory.  

High:  I've lost another 2 lbs.  5.5 lbs. lost since Feb. 1.  It's no fun to consume calories when everything tastes like, um, nothing.

Low:  I've been telling Jeff I need to go somewhere.  Anywhere.  Then I did a post on Tuesday about my testimony of Disneyland.  The self pity party came into full swing by then.  Although I was the only one to attend and had to act as host, guest, and designated driver.

High:  Out of the blue, my soul sister, equally fanatical Disney freak, and spunky friend called me on Friday to invite me on a Girls' Weekend Getaway in April.  To Disneyland, people!  No kids.  Ladies only.  No husbands.  Solely females.  She and her sisters and mom are adopting me for the weekend and including me in their fun.  Needless to say, I can't wait!  

Amen!

Everything's amazing and nobody's happy

click to watch

D.A.

While driving with a friend the other week, she mentioned that she finally thinks it's time for her family to take a vacation to Disneyland.  Her kids are 11 and 7.  In my most humble opinion, she is LONG OVERDUE.  But that is not for me to say. ;(

If you know anything about me, you know that you DO NOT open up a topic like Disneyland (or Disney World or a Disney Cruise or Euro Disney) without planning on having me give a very lengthy, enthusiastic, hyper, emotionally charged discourse on all things Disney.  I am a Disneyland fanatic.  That is no exaggeration.  Ask my husband.  Ask my kids.  They will concur.

It's probably because I was born in Southern California.  Disneyland is part of my heritage.  I have so many fond memories of that bless-ed theme park.  It was a frequent event that usually involved cousins.  Julie Beck and I would run from ride to ride.  I even remember, way back in the day, when we had to use the ticket books.  "E" tickets were the coveted prize.  They were the roller coasters.  You used those tickets wisely, lest you waste a chance at an opportunity for an adrenaline thrill.

So, I proceeded to speak at a very fast pace to my friend.  I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was trying to keep up with all the Mickey rhetoric that was flying out of my mouth.  I felt a great need to convey the urgency that yes, she must go now (go home and pack your things) and that her kids can't miss out any longer.  My mind was whirling faster than I could speak.  I was literally out of breath.  I wondered if my watery eyes were freaking her out a little.  Now I worry that she won't want to take her kids to my belove-ed Disneyland at all because, heaven forbid, they become a coo-coo like me.  I have a problem.

After going on a Disney themed vacation for 5 years straight with our kids, and now in my 2nd year dry spell, I'm having some painful withdrawls.  Seriously.

Which got me to thinking.  How can I channel all of my positive, creative, over abundance of knowledge about that simply magical place into some sort of action or cause? I'd love to be an Imagineer but I should probably only focus on one dream at a time. Jeff had a solution: become a Disney Advocate.  Advocate?  If advocate is defined as one who promotes, defends, supports, upholds, or pleads the cause of, then yes that would be a good title for me to scribble on my forehead.

Planning a trip with the fam to Anaheim?  Call me.  Need to know the best place to stay and how to get to and from the park?  Call me.  Want to order the best item on the menu at the Blue Bayou in Pirates of the Caribbean (yes, you have to eat there).  Call me.  Shows to see, hidden treasures, places to explore, trivial fluff.  I've got it all.  CALL ME!  I also am willing to have a sit down talk with hedging husbands who need help over the fence.  

And it's all yours for free.

I just ask that you eat a Sparkling Volcano in my honor. 

New Look, Same Blog

Yes, you're in the right spot.  

Yes, this is the Gregson family blog.

Yes, I felt it was time for a blog makeover.

No, Jeff wouldn't let me spend any money on a professional looking design.  I'm stuck with my limited abilities.

Yes, Rita was my inspiration for completely renaming it.  If she can, why can't I?

Yes, I came up with the blog title and description.  It's how I feel.   

Yes, I made the header.  Jeff colored the picture for me.  He also realizes that coloring outside the lines is OK.  In fact, he's been trying for years to get me to understand that.  I'm a slow learner.

Hodgepodge: Part 2

This week I will officially embark upon a creative adventure unlike any I have attempted before. It's top secret so no I can't tell you. But it's gonna be good. A close friend coaxed me onto a path of immense possibilities and I can't wait to see where it leads us. This voyage will probably stretch our talents until we want to cry, but in our mind's eye the end results will be worth every single agonizing step.  She also assured me that we'll no longer have mortgage payments and she mentioned something about being on Oprah. ;D  Wishful thinking but it's always nice to dream. Even as an adult.

I signed Britt for the after school dodgeball club. This is a utopia for 1 - 3 graders who have excess energy and desire the dodge, dive, and roll around on the ground. When he came home the first week beet red, drenched in sweat, and with a contagious smile on his face, I asked him what he liked most about it. He paused, contemplating my reaction, and slyly announced, "I liked it because I hit this really mean gill (girl) in the head with the ball and it was OK to do it. It's part of the game!" As any mother would do with her impressionable child, I gave him the whole talk about how it's never good to take our frustrations out physically, that we just need to walk away, blah, blah, blah. After I finished he looked at me seriously and said, "Yeah, but mom it felt really good to hit her with the [soft, squishy] ball. She's REALLY mean". He probably has a point. I can think of a hand full of mean people I'd like to have in a dodgeball ring

Son, numero tres, is now pulling himself up to a standing position.  Don't want to talk about it. Just look at the picture.  Sorry if the photo is a bit blurry.  I was having a melt down behind the camera.

Taider Bug is a faithful BYU fan.  Most of his school papers come home looking like this.  He's not in your face about the fact that he thinks the Y rocks.  That's not his style.  He just quietly leaves his mark (i.e. block letters) wherever he can and patiently listens to other boisterous boys describe their disdain for his beloved Cougars.  Taiden can handle the adversarial taunting.  He's cool like that.  But he knows that BYU is THE university of Utah.  

Bad Genes

Which picture is your favorite? And by favorite I mean nightmare inducing and disturbing. Please vote.

Brittan

Shaw

Kristen

Taiden

Kennedy

Jeff

Wonder what the Gregson family is wasting their time on these days?  Playing on our iMac's Photo Booth.  Come on over.  We'd love to get a sick and twisted shot of you to add to our gallery.

Hodgepodge: Part 1

Jesse is doing very well.  The surgery was successful and he and his donor Celynn are getting stronger everyday.  Celynn will be going home today and Jesse may be released by Wednesday or Thursday.  Modern medicine is a-maz-ing.  Transplanting a needed organ from one person to another.  Truly incredible.  My nephew now has the chance to live a long, full life.  Celynn Merrill a hero.

Jeff has successfully completed Season 2 of LOST and is staying committed to his resolution. He has invested 36 hours to this feat.  We have no idea what is going on in the world because we hit the play button as soon as the kids' heads hit their pillows.  No more watching the evening news.  I will admit that I'm starting to worry a tad because much of his thinking is revolving around things he is viewing each night.  Shaw's new nickname is John Locke Jr. because of his resemblence to the bald guy on LOST.  I'm not sure if I'm OK with this because we're still unclear if Locke is coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs or just a misunderstood good guy.  Still waiting for more information.  Jeff also pointed out a line in a sacremental hymn we sang the other week that talked about "the others".  Finally, he can't wait for the opportunity to use his new found knowledge of all things LOST in his profession - in the form of therapeutic metaphors.  Season 3 will be started tonight.

Kennedy is in phase 2 of her braces. Poor kids.  

It looks like they're all inheriting my extreme

overbite and Jeff's crooked teeth. Her first phase was in 4th grade. She's so grown up now!

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine's Decor

Don't you love when your sweetheart goes to the store 2 1/2 weeks before Valentine's Day and buys you the perfect card?  I do.  Love you, Jeff!

Jesse Bear

This is my nephew Jesse.  He is one of the most lovable 16 year olds out there. EVERYONE loves Jesse.  He's funny, sweet, mellow, and well, look at that handsome face.  He also loves babies.  Shaw gets a healthy dose of affection when Jesse Bear is around.

Tomorrow this guy goes in for surgery.  Major surgery.  In the form of getting a kidney transplant.  Yeah, major surgery.  We've all known for a long time that it would probably come down to this.  He was born with only one semi-functioning kidney.  As his body has grown and matured, his kidney hasn't been able to keep up.  

He's been going to dialysis for the past 6 months.  He thinks it's kinda funny that he's been hangin' out with all the old people there.  

When asked if he's nervous about getting his new kidney (from his mom's sister) he says, "No, I'm just excited to feel good".  It's been hard to see him so sick.  It will be good to watch him get healthy again and get a little meat on those bones.

Please keep him in your prayers tomorrow.  He's been through so much these past several years.  

We love you, Jesse Bear!

Because I love you...

...and as a Cook who loves really good recipes and as a Foodie who loves really good food, I thought I should pass along this tasty tidbit.  Perfect for a Valentine's Day breakfast in bed or perhaps to score extra points with your kids in the mommy category.  However you choose to use it, it will make you look like a prize whisk-er in the kitchen.

Oh, by the way, I've included my famous syrup recipe.  This was handed down from my great aunt, LaVon.  If I someday get around to distributing it to the masses and easily earning a million dollars or so, you must promise to cease and desist from making it.  At that point, you'd have to drive to your local market and pick up a bottle with a pretty label containing my picture (the label would be pretty, not my picture).  Until that day, enjoy from the convenience of your home. ;D

Hearthstone Inn French Toast

• 6 eggs, beaten
• 1/2 c. baking mix (Bisquick)
• 2 Tbsp. sugar
• 1 1/2 c. milk
• 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
• 1 loaf French bread, sliced ( I get mine at Costco...thickly sliced and perfect for this)
• vegetable oil
• Spiced butter (see below)
  

In a large bowl, blend together eggs, baking mix, sugar, milk, cinnamon, and nutmeg until smooth. Dip bread slices in batter to cover.  Cook bread slices in oil until brown.  Serve immediately with Spiced Butter and Kristen's Famous Syrup.

Spiced Butter

• 1/2 c. soft butter
• 3 Tbsp. brown sugar
• 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp. allspice
• 1/8 tsp. ground nutmeg

Beat all ingredients together until fluffy.

Kristen's Famous Syrup (do not try this unless you're willing to break up with Mrs. Butterworth forever...there's no going back!)

• 1 cube butter
• 1 c. sugar
• 1/2 c. milk
• 1/4 tsp. soda
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1 tsp. maple flavoring

Boil 2 - 3 minutes.  You may want to double or triple the recipe for a large family.  Store leftovers in the refrigerator and simply reheat in the microwave.  ***Warning:  This can be addicting!!  My father-in-law enjoys it on ice cream.  Heck, even a 2 x 4 would be palatable with my liquid gold.

Root Canal? What Root Canal?

I adore nitrous oxide. 

Wish I could bring a keg of it home.

We Shoot for the Stars 'Round These Here Parts

The start of the year is always a time for renewal. A time for reflection. A time to make resolutions to increase personal health, foster better relationships, improve humanity is some small way.

My beloved husband set a New Year's Resolution. Oh yes, he did. He set a goal for himself to watch seasons 1, 2, 3, and 4 of the TV series LOST so he can get caught up on all the buzz that revolves around this mysteriously addicting show.

Since it's debut, we've wanted to follow LOST. The problem lies with the fact that our weeknights are really busy. You know, all the stuff that we all do as multiple offspring families. We also don't have high tech gadgets like TiVo.  Just a TV and lack of time. I guess we could dust off our archaic VCR and try pushing record.

Last night, as we finished watching episode 22 of season 1, Jeff smiled and rather boastfully stated, "I've really done a good job sticking with my goal. Most people have given up on their resolutions by now." Sigh. Oh, sweetheart. You make me proud. Fighting the urge to stop watching these amazingly acted, filmed, and well told stories. You are a pillar of strength. ;D

I'll be picking up season 2 at the library today. It's the least I can do to support my hubby in this monumental endeavor. Like the post title states, "We shoot for the stars 'round these here parts". The world and all mankind will be a better place when we fully know the lives, trials, and happenings of Kate, Jack, Sawyer, Sayid, Hurley, John, Michael, Walt, Sun, Jin-Soo, Charlie, Claire, and Shannon. 

Poor Boone. May he rest in peace.

In Honor of the Month of Love...