My name is Lindsay and this is just so I don't feel guilty for not keeping a written journal...


Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Something has happened to Brenda


The norm, for the past 8 years, was to just mention Halloween to Brenda and suddenly our world was all aflutter.  Decorations went up just days after the new school year began.  Different costumes were brought to school nearly every day of October.  Conversations all revolved around candy, pumpkins, parties...  You get it.

Something has happened to Brenda.

I blame Katy Perry.

I fully acknowledge that childish-Halloween ended, for me, after I was twelve, as it does with many kids.  BUT.  This wasn't supposed to happen to my kid.  Hey!  What's autism for, if not to let me enjoy my kids' youth a little longer than normal???

She hasn't even glanced at the decorations that Suzie and I put up.  She shrugged and mentioned she'd wear the costume she used at girls camp, when asked.  When bringing up her birthday, she just lets me know what she wants from the store.  No talk of her annual Halloween/birthday party that she's obsessed over for nearly a decade...

Nope, she just wants to play video games and listen to her "girl pop".

I feel helplessly robbed.

So to lash back, in justified, parental vengeance, I'm going to expose Brenda for the child she is.

Last month, I took Brenda, Suzie and two cousins to the movies to see Finding Dory.  I was parked right outside the small theater as they came out and could see that Brenda was struggling to compose herself.  The (spoiler alert) happy ending had completely brought Brenda to sobbing, gasping, tipsy tears.  She declared it her favorite movie that she would never watch again.  ...Now she's asking for the dvd for her birthday...

getting in the car post-movie

How does this expose her as a child?  Um.  I guess I'd have to call myself a child after sobbing at the end of North and South (the one based on the book by Elizabeth Gaskell, not the war movie).  But my movie is adult.  It has adult stuff like history and death and philosophy and politics and relationships...  and I sobbed in the privacy of my dark bedroom.  And and and..  And Dory is silly and cartoon.  ...nevermind the family and love and courage...  Oh, and I cry at the end of Wreck it Ralph.

I feel my argument crumbling.

Well crud.

My kid is growing up. 



Wednesday, September 7, 2016

the family death grip


 Anton Ego (Ratatouille):

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."


I've always loved that part in the movie where you hear Anton's critique.  The other day, as I was loading pictures from my brother's wedding onto my computer, Anton's voice came thru from the other room.  It doesn't exactly apply here but something about the awesomeness crossed over.  I even teared up, which is not much of stretch for me.  ...but I felt it. 


I love my little bro. and Saturday was an extraordinary experience that left us all in awe with goosepimples o'plenty. 


 Why was it so extra special?  Because he's my baby bro?


Because Allyson is ridiculously fun and we are going full-on family deathgrip?


 Maybe a little of both?


 Maybe because Mike and I looked awesome...




 Or because my forever first family is complete?



 
I don't know.  ...Why analyze it?


 So I'm just going to set all these pictures here...


...and walk away, smiling. 


Saturday, August 13, 2016

suzination

So I called Suzie over to the computer, showed her these pictures and asked her what she would like the post to say.  She said I don't know and I immediately typed that phrase.  Seeing this she starts to cry.  I clear the script and tell her we can come up with something fun.  She cries harder from the pressure.  I close the page and tell her not to worry, we could go play a game instead. 


She picked Snake Oil and, of course, she beat me.  (Playing Snake Oil with just two people doesn't work traditionally but we've made alterations that make no sense.)  After that Brenda suggested we play dance-attack.  Having never heard of this I asked her what to do.  She stood across the room and started to twirl ballerina-like.  Making her way towards me she suddenly punched me.  Not too hard, but definitely by surprise.  "Dance Attack!"  Suzie, having witnessed, was in.  She started prancing and I was suddenly kicked in the shin. 

she enjoys a certain app

It was giggles all around but I had to teach the girls WWF style fighting.  After we settled down I again asked Suzie about the blog post.  "Any thoughts on what we should write?"  She shook her head.  I asked if I could write about when she.......   She laughed and said That would be gross gross GROSS! 

...loves it, actually

So I don't get to write about somebody tooting in the bathtub?


My point is that I like this girl and I want her to share her thoughts. 


I just went and asked her what her favorite part of today was.  She said Disco Head which, she explained, is some game where you stick your head out of your tent. 




...BTW- We went camping.  It was fun. 

...I should post about that when I get some pictures...

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

in the hands of God


Amongst the political uproar and moral absurdities, my boy is still finding joy in the little things. 

it's my lip gloss.  ...it WAS my lip gloss.


"...the Lord will remember the prayers of the righteous,
which have been put up unto him for them.
And then, O ye Gentiles,
how can ye stand before the power of God,
except ye shall repent and turn from your evil ways?

Know ye not that ye are in the hands of God?

Know ye not that he hath all power,
and at his great command the earth shall be rolled together as a scroll?"

-Mormon 5:23

Friday, July 1, 2016

Dr Seuss Girls Camp skit



So Girls Camp is weeks away and one of my favorite "jobs" is to write the skit for the camp leaders.  At the forgotten request of a few, I thought I'd share the skit from last year that was just so fun.  I tried to make it as "Seuss" as "Seuss" is, but added unique touches to make it fit our camp.  If anyone would like, copy and make some tweaks that work for you!  Enjoy!

******************************

Up on a hilltop like the one in these trees
there happened a story you must see to believe

For scattered in hollows in a place called Alpine
lay a camp of young women who did indeed shine

Their lanterns were lit, every tent up with ease
every tshirt was colored, with colors to please

The second years raised the flag on the mark
The YCLs sang and danced- baby shark

But while the girls taught and learned certification
No one suspected a certain's hesitation

For amongst these lovely women was a sad, lonely one
A GRINCH! some might call her, who shrugged at the sun

"I see no joy, no reason to smile
It's hot and I'm tired, 'think I'll pout here a while

The songs are all corny, the lessons? - a bore
And no texting this week???  I'll just DIE, for sure!

I'll show them how silly, how wasteful are we,
to eat up my time with crafts and archery

Let's see how they like their precious camp
without their decorations and mascots ...and lamp

Perhaps those cheery smiles will reverse
when I eat up their lasagna and sabotage their nurse!

Now they're singing again!  Oh WHY so much noise?
Guess I'll burn their song books, ...uhhh... I'll throw them in the lake ...yeah...

   (To audience)  No fires ladies!

I'm out to destroy! I'll take this, I'll take that.
I'll TAKE their wretched girls camp and I won't give it back!

A GRINCH you could call me -a mean one, you might say?
Don't want to join in?  to participate or play?

I'm here to nobly expose the truth!
That this is all meaningless ...just fluff and floof!

Now, my trusty sidekick, let's call you Heather
Aren't we excited to see how they weather?

I've taken their toys, their trinkets and hollaballoo
Instead of sounds of joy, it'll be BOO HOO HOO!

(campers wake and gather at flag, smiling, greeting and dancing together...)

Heather, what's this? No one is SAD!
No one is crying, everyone is GLAD!

Somehow this girls camp is still a success???
Somehow this girls camp is more than this mess?

Maybe girls camp doesn't come from a store?
Maybe girls camp is a little bit more.

The Grinch's heart beated one, two, three
and grew to the size of a mighty spruce tree

She gathered the things and sprung into action
To return to camp and ask for compassion

For forgiveness, she begged and pleaded to be
back with the camp she had so wanted to flee

They welcomed her in, arms wide open
and together they learned of the Lord's words spoken

For Girls camp is more than skits and glits and smores
Girls camp is all about opening doors

To hear our Heavenly Father, who loves us endlessly
And know who we are, in our infinite family

*****************************

Our "grinch" wore green and our "Heather" (who's name is Heather, how clever are we?) mimicked the dog dressed as a reindeer.  She pushed around a wheelbarrow as the Grinch stole items from each campsite (pre-stolen for the skit and placed on the stage.  haha)  The other leaders wore pjs to be the campers who awake.  ...I got to narrate!

Now I've got to get busy with our skit for this year!

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

adulting


As I was watering my garden today (yeah, I do that sort of thing.  impressed?) I was wondering why poop dirt is good for plants.  That stuff is the body's rejected stuff and we're going to eat the results.  Oh yes.  We're eating this stuff so I can shout it from the rooftops.  I AM A GARDENER!

Tomatoes, cucumbers and potatoes.  I feel so arrogantly resourceful.  Like on Father's day I made a mixed berry pie.  From scratch, crust and all.  How immediately I assumed I was now a professional as the pie was perfection.  ...A week later I again pranced to the kitchen to sprinkle my pie magic.  It ended up crap and I was confused.  ?!  ...I'm ...not?  not a professional???  I hung my head and left the kitchen.  Back to the cereal bowl.

I love me some cereal.

Don't buoy me up.  Don't pat me on the back and tell me to keep trying.  I'm too distracted watering my GARDEN.  Did I mention I'm a GARDENER????  It's my first real try, in the ground and everything.  My other failed attempts were in pots and such.  ...so unprofessional.  We professionals get our knees dirty and our backs sore as we commune with mother earth.

I called my friend every few steps of this most impressive endeavor.

"Hey!  I've weeded!  Come see my dirt!  ...What do I do next?"

.

"Hey!  I got the compost!  I went with the chicken poo!  That ok?  ...What do I do next?"

.
.
.

"Hey!  HEY!  ...Do these things need water?"

 I took a personality test once that used questions to help you find your niche.  The question that broke the camel's back was "Do you ever wonder when you're going to actually grow up?".  I was type ONE!  Then the test told me that as a #1 I should embrace my ridiculousness and enjoy that part of myself.

So, soon you'll all be invited to enjoy my professional poo-tomatoes.  I'm pretending to adult.



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