Random Recent Favorite Pictures

In no particular order, here are some of my recent favorites of my little people.

Things that make you say "Aww"

Diapers and cowboy boots- embrace your Arkansas heritage

The dishwasher is like a heated massage for David John

Popcorn addict- definitely Marc's son

Things one and two

Two little monkeys reading on the couch

Fame Isn't Everything

I was on my way to an appointment in Euclid when I noticed this little gem:

You are reading it correctly. It is the combined Polka and Softball Hall of Fame. I tried to go inside but they weren't open yet at 10:45 on a Monday. As it turns out, their hours of operation are limited and somewhat confusing. The two Halls of Fame, although sharing a building, have different hours and aren't even always open on the same days of the week. The hours posted on the door and the hours listed on their websites are also different. I'm pretty sure to figure it out you have to understand the phases of the moon and the Mayan calendar. The websites were also unclear about whether or not they charge admission.
Anyway, it occurred to me that the Cleveland area seems to have a Hall of Fame "thing". The well-known Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is in Cleveland proper, the Pro Football Hall of Fame is in nearby Canton, apparently Euclid is home to the National Polka Hall of Fame and the Cleveland Area Softball Hall of Fame and, oh yes, Akron is now the home of the National Inventors Hall of Fame.
If we widen our search to all of Ohio we find that our great state is also the location for the National Classical Music Hall Fame (Cincinnati) and the American Motorcycle Hall of Fame (Colombus).Why are we so obsessed with fame? I think I have it figured out. Our state is suffering from low self-esteem. We're like the middle child of the country. We get good grades, don't cause any trouble but never get any attention. I remember being frustrated when I went to college that many westerners didn't know much about Ohio or where it was. Many people frequently confused Ohio and Iowa. I always felt a little jealous of the Texans with their state pride and flags plastered all over their dorm rooms. Everyone knows where Texas is. Texas is like the good-looking rebellious child in America's family. They are big, rich and cause problems. I mean, hello, they tried to secede! Yet, they get all the love. As it turns out, Ohio is a pretty interesting place. In researching the Hall's of Fame I discovered that the Cleveland area really does have a rich musical history including having it's own style of Polka music (who knew there were different Polka styles?) and being crucial in the Rock and Roll movement of the 1950s. Apparently the very first Rock and Roll concert was right here in Cleveland. Oh, and NFL was founded in Ohio with the Canton Bulldogs being in the original league. Ohio is the birthplace of no less than eight presidents not to mention Thomas Edison, Wilbur and Orville Wright, Neil Armstrong and John Glenn. Doris Day, Clarke Gable, Hugh Downs and Steven Spielberg also hail from our little state. Ohio currently ranks 7th for total population and 9th for population per square mile. My point is, we deserve the fame, we just aren't getting it. So, I have put together a set of proposals to help boost our self-esteem and national image.
1. A makeover is always good to improve self-image. I recommend we start with our state flag. Let's be honest- it's a little weird and the shape makes it almost impossible to hang straight.
2. Maybe we could get some more stirring state songs. Our official state song started out as a love ballad and then they changed the words but the music still sounds like a love ballad. Our state rock song is cool- "Hang On Sloopy" but I'm not sure if it's sending the right message. Sloopy lives in a "bad part of town"- are we suggesting that Ohio has bad parts?
3. People who are cool never look like they are trying too hard. Maybe we need to back off of this Hall of Fame thing and start erecting buildings that don't sound so desperate like "The Place of Normalcy".
4. We all know that athletes are more popular than non-athletes. The Cleveland Cavs are pulling their weight, but could we do something about our football teams? Maybe we should rename the Browns. I don't know if I'd feel like blitzing if my mascot was a tiny elf either.
5. If all else fails, we should try to secede. We might make some enemies, but hey at least we'll get some attention.

P.S. For those of you you are geographically challenged and don't know where Ohio is, we're that blob close to the mitten state and just below Canada.
P.P.S. I realize I sound like the father on "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and feel the need to educate non-Ohioans about Ohio. I am seeing a therapist to overcome my state insecurity issues.
P.P.P.S. Ironically, Grover Cleveland was NOT one of the presidents born in Ohio.

Blogophobia

On Friday, I did not blog. Instead, I did something crazy- I tried out for a part in a musical.
This may not seem like crazy behavior except for the fact that I am terrified of singing in public. As long as I am in a group, I'm fine but singing alone is scary. In fact, the only things that are more terrifying are playing an instrument in public and anthrax.
The familiar butterflies and trepidation as I considered this bold act got me thinking about fears in general. I used to be afraid of far more things like swimming under water and the Wicked Witch of the west. Maybe those two are connected....
Anyway, I think everyone has irrational fears. For my son Elijah, his list currently includes ants and large dogs- having already conquered his mortal fear of balloons. Gabriel is scared of people in costumes, the mean diesel engine with the pincher on Thomas and the Magic Railroad and lambs. Marc will probably deny this, but I am convinced that he has a fear of breakfast. My evidence is thus: 1. Marc never eats breakfast. 2. If we ever have breakfast foods for dinner, Marc complains and finds alternative foods to eat.
I've also noticed fears in the community. Many young men seem to fear belts as evidenced by the issues they seem to have with keeping their pants on, or maybe they have a form of claustrophobia in which they fear tight clothing instead of tight spaces. Drivers in the area have a fear of using their blinkers and appropriately using turn lanes. The governments of Cleveland and the surrounding suburbs fear speeds in excess of 25 mph even on four lane business-zoned roads.
So- what should we do about our fears? I think we have two options. The first is to keep being afraid but to learn the latin name for your fear so you don't seem so ridiculous. "I have ovinophobia" sounds much better than "I am afraid of sheep". The second option is to face your fear and cross it off your list. The only way out is through. This thinking is what led me to spend a week talking myself into auditioning for the This Is Kirtland musical. Not only did I get to face my fear by singing solo for my audition, but I am happy to report that I will be facing my fear repeatedly since they assigned me the role of Thankful Pratt in which I must speak and sometimes sing alone. I am hoping to be able to cross it off my list of fears by the end of the production. Oh, and in honor of facing fears, we will be having breakfast for dinner.

Related Information
Here is a list of the latin names for the fears mentioned in this blog:
sonophobia- fear of singing
aquaphobia- fear of swimming
lamiaphobia- fear of witches
formicaphobia- fear of ants
caniphobia- fear of dogs
balloonophobia- sorry no latin for balloons
sumptuphobia- fear of costumes
siderodromophobia- fear of trains
ientaculumophobia- fear of breakfast

This is Kirtland! is free with performances running from July 1st- 17th. Detailed information can be found here:
http://thisiskirt.squarespace.com/

Prophet Train

We had a family home evening lesson about prophets. Of course we talked about the current prophet of our church, Thomas S. Monson and showed the boys a picture. Afterward, Gabe drew a picture and asked me to write the word "prophet" on his paper for him. I asked Gabe if he had drawn a picture of a prophet and he said, "Yeah, prophet train!" After a confused moment, I made the connection. President Monson's first name is Thomas and the only Thomas my boys know is Thomas the tank engine. They now identify pictures of President Monson as "prophet Thomas train".

Pish Posh

One of my boys' favorite books is entitled "Pish, Posh, Said Hieronymus Bosch". It is written in verse and has beautiful illustrations. The book is whimsical with plenty of onomatopoeia and strange creatures. It got me thinking about all the sounds that my own little creatures make during the day and inspired me to write this little poem:

The Long and Short of It

Last week I made yet another pilgrimage to Fairborn with my three little boys. Marc was working a week of night shifts including a 30 hour call day on Easter Sunday. We had a lovely Easter and fun week with my parents and brothers. Here is a brief synopsis of our week complete with pictures:

Sunday
- David John enjoys his first Easter looking like a sheepdog
- Gabe and Elijah successfully find all but two Easter eggs
- We invite guests for Easter brunch
- Gabe throws up during Easter brunch, luckily not on our guests
- Gabe and Elijah take a bath and then a nap which means the adults in the house actually hear the Sunday morning session of General Conference
- David John gets a haircut
- Elijah tries to call Jesus on the phone to ask if He is alive again
Monday
- Elijah and David John throw up
- Everyone hikes to the top of an Adena Indian mound
- Sam rolls down the hill and encounters stinging nettle. His arm turns red and swells up. All the boys think this is cool.
- Gabe and Elijah discover the joy of dropping sticks in a river and watching them float under a bridge
- My dad and I take the little boys to see a waterfall
- We feed some cranky geese and two timid ducks at a pondTuesday
- No one throws up!
- We go to Young's Dairy Farm and see brand new baby goats
- David John attracts the attention of a goat who wants to eat his stroller, and a cow who thoroughly licks his shoe
- Gabe masters the art of feeding the goats without throwing food at them
- David John discovers the joy of peach sorbetto
- My friend Jennifer comes over for an afternoon photo session in the back yard. She captures some amazing action shots.
- We go out to eat at Bob Evan's for dinner. The boys are actually pretty well behaved. Elijah is covered in syrup by the end of the meal.
Wednesday
- We go to the Boonshoft museum in Dayton and see a boa constrictor eating rats
- Gabe, Elijah and I get to touch sea anemones and starfish
- Gabe and Elijah experience what Grandpa calls "timeout for big boys" in the courthouse and jail play area
- All three boys master the science behind the bernoulli principle
- When we get home, EVERYONE needs a nap
Thursday
- We go bowling at the base
- David John picks up two spares
- I bowl the only strike of the day but also have the most gutter balls
- Gabe and Elijah come in second and third behind Grandpa
- Gabe and Elijah get haircuts
- After the boys go to bed, we enjoy the movie Sherlock Holmes
Friday
- Gabe wakes up with a temperature of 102 degrees
- We spend the day watching "Woody" aka Toy Story one and two
- The third pan of brownies in three days is rapidly consumed
- At the last minute, I decide to get my hair cut and donate it to Wigs for Kids, a Dayton area equivalent of Locks of Love. We cut off 12 inches, and have enough for up to four wigs. I leave the salon feeling literally lightheaded.
- I finally get all of our gear and Easter loot packed up and ready to go
- Grandpa fixes our VHS player in the van and we watch two Veggie Tales on the drive home
- We arrive at home at 10:30 pm. We are all happy to see Marc.

Springtime

I arrived home from my trip to Fairborn (the reason for missing my blog post last week) to find that Spring had finally arrived in Cleveland. I was thrilled to see our tree and daffodils in full bloom and couldn't resist sharing them. I hope everyone is soaking up the newly returned sunshine and enjoying Spring as much as I am.