Amazement at the Farm

Evy and I went to Frying Pan Farm Park yesterday. It isn't a very big farm, but you do have the chance to see all kinds of farm animals close up. He was IMPRESSED at the size of Michael, the horse. (Grandma A that means we need to meet Maverik next time.)

Evy was amazed by it all. We saw a new calf and piglets. The piglets were REALLY loud and Everett was unsure of all the racket.

He really enjoyed the chickens. This boy loves all birds.

We tried to get to know the peacock better, but he was too shy.

Okay, check out the spacious swimming amenities that these poor ducks enjoy. Yeah, my thoughts exactly.

As we were walking through the farm enjoying the sun and pleasant wind, Everett, with his eyes closed, kept raising his arms high above his head and bringing them down together in a cupping motion. He did this several times, and the only thing I can think of is that he was trying to capture that great feeling of wind.

I wish I, too, could have caught that great feeling with my hands.

"MY COW DIED. SO, I DON'T NEED YOUR BULL."

That is the phrase on my grandmother's ring holder that she keeps by the kitchen sink. Whenever I see that ring holder, I always think about what it means and the double meanings behind what it could mean, and . . . earlier in my little girl mind, I wondered if grandma really ever needed a bull for her cow. Or, if she even had a cow (they had lots and lots of horses).

The phrase came to mind on Thursday afternoon when my husband arrived home a bit late and pulled up saying, "I wouldn't take this car to your appointment. I had to pop the clutch to get it going."

In fact, I thought of a more appropriate phrase:

"My Car Died.

So, I Don't Need Your Bull."

You can't blame the car for conking out. This shiny, cutting edge blue specimen of a 1989 Honda Prelude does have over 230,000 miles clocked on the odometer. I had the opportunity to drive it quite a bit this week while Erik was out of town. Every time I got in the car, I prayed that she had a year left in her without needing to make another set of major repairs.

The Sjolseths in DC are balancing quite a bit right now. So if you see any arm waving or gesticulation don't confuse it as an interpretative improvement to a bull fighter waving a red flag around. I'm not a bull fighter, bull rider, or seeker of a bull. So, yeah, my car died and I don't need anyone's bull.

(I am a longhorn, but that's a whole 'nuther conversation altogether.)

Evy Is Sponging It Up at 11 Months

STATS

Height: 31 inches (99th percentile)
Weight: 25 pounds, 4 ounces (90th percentile)

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We are amazed at how much Everett has learned and grown this past month. He is moving, saying words, racing us to answer the phone, getting into everything, and generally making us laugh all the time.

• He has already checked out every light socket in the house and is moving on to the cabinets. Right now, he loves playing with the handles, epecially those that clank.
• He is very strong and amazes us with how he can easily manipulate what we thought was too heavy for him.
• He loves to talk to stuffed animals and the toys hanging in the car.
• He now sings consistently along with us when we sing him lullabies and sings to music playing in the car.
• He BOPS to all kinds of rhythm whether he is in his car seat, booster seat, in the store or car shop, and has even been bopping to the lullabies we sing to him. He's got RHYTHM!
• He loves throwing and catching the ball (he doesn't really catch, but he is throwing the ball to you).
• He loves feet . . . your feet, his feet, your friend's feet. If you wear crazy socks when you come over to play, he falls in love.
• When you hold his hands while he is standing, he'll take several steps of his own accord. He thinks this trick is pretty cool.
• Upon the moment he wakes up, he tells you where to go by pointing. First stop in the morning is either to gaze upon the cousin pictures or go straight out the door. He'll let you know.

• He can now traverse the house on his bum. Here is what he looks like in action as he reaches and scoots forward.
  
  
  

  Evy's Words

DADA!
He greets Erik when he gets home from work and knows Erik's voice (screams DADA into the phone when Sheila puts the conversation on speaker).

TaDa! and All Done!
He doesn't do this on cue. But he says both of these words. And, very often, he'll clap when he is saying TaDa!

Kitty Cat
This one cracks me up. He'll point at Twiggy. We'll say, "Kitty cat." And, then he repeats it and may repeat it even when Twiggs isn't around.

Hi and Bye
He has also been caught saying hi and bye and waving hi and bye.

Nose
He has been asking by pointing what the eyes, nose, mouth, ears, tail, back, and feet are on this book. He is pretty good at saying "nose."

How Big Is He?

Pretty Big. Remember, he was about the size of the bear when he was born.

Putting on a Feast

In case you are ever assigned to make and serve a feast of fajitas and sundaes for 60 people all within a week with your little family and a friend or two, you might want the following list:




The Meal:
20 pounds of chicken breast
25 pounds of skirt steak
6 LARGE bags of Tostitos scoops chips
300 tortillas
9 heads of lettuce
18 Large bell peppers (mix of yellow, orange, and red)
4 Large containers of guacamole
10 Large onions
7 boxes of Goya Mexican Rice
A lot of black beans
A lot of sour cream
A HUGE bag of shredded cheese (1/3 cup per person)
LARGE vat of salsa
2 containers of Fiesta Fajita seasoning
1 container of Fiesta Chicken Fajita seasoning

Sundaes:
9 aerosol cans of the Larger size of whipped cream
6 humongous trays of brownies
3 containers of sprinkles (or jimmies)
5 gallons of vanilla ice cream
4 jars of Marciano cherries
4 jars of caramel
4 jars of hot fudge

BTW, to make it extra special when serving the sundaes, buy a ten foot piece of rain gutter and a 2X4 of the same size. To assemble the serving trough, place the 2X4 in the gutter (the weight will keep it securely inside). Wrap the gutter with heavy duty aluminum foil. Place cut brownies inside the gutter and top with ice cream, whipped cream, and cherries. (Sundae eating patrons can finish topping the sundaes themselves.) Yes, this means that your dessert will be 10 feet long with additional dessert in case you don't want to give a dessert to each person less than 2 inches long. For those of you who would like to name this gigantic creation, we suggest "The Iron Rod." No, we weren't the ones that came up with that one.

Support supplies:
200 feet of heavy duty aluminum foil
56 gallon size freezer bags
72 serving bowls for the fajita fixings
12 aluminum pans for serving meat and grilled vegetables
3 tortilla warmers
16 baskets
stuff to eat and drink with
6 cutting boards and knives
Food processor
2 rice cookers
2 grills

And:
2 runs to Costco
4 runs to Safeway
1 run to Home Depot
8 runs to the church
Over 168 hours of coordinating, cutting, and cooking (not at all an exaggeration, Sheila had to completely wipe down the kitchen and the floor when we were done)--She is thinking we'll have to gut the kitchen to get the onion smell out now.

BTW, we did this because our church held a feast for anyone who took on our Bishop's challenge to read the entire Book of Mormon this summer. The record for most fajitas eaten this evening by one person, 9. We need some of our Texas grown boys to come up and show them what real fajita eating is like.




Lessons learned-

• Your local butcher is a good person to know (we didn't know how much meat to serve 60 people).
• We are too tired to make this post funny.
• This was our best friend. We were told that these were the best fajitas that they had ever had.

Most Memorable Moment:

Leader Man: (takes a pan of cooked fajita meat and starts walking across the room to his table)

Leader Lady who is serving the youth: Oh, good, can you make sure that Mike gets some?

Leader Man: (hurriedly) Sorry, this is a private stash. (as his sprints the rest of the distance to his plate with getaway speed)

Leader Lady who is serving the youth: ( . . . awestruck silence . . . )

Yes, They Were That Good.

My Boys

Going out in public with my boys is one seriously interactive experience.

Erik, who has never met a stranger, and Everett, who gets a comment from everyone who crosses his path, charms all personas in a 25 foot radius when we are out and about. You should see the reaction from people when Erik, with Everett perched in his arms, steps into a room. Erik and Everett are usually in the middle of a conversation with each other a bit oblivious of the stir that they have started. People who see them usually:

• Stop and smile either at them or just a small smile to themselves
• Elbow the person they are sitting next to and point out the charming pair (no lying, people do this)
• Make a comment about something that Everett is doing or ask amazingly how old Everett is
• Giggle to themselves (this is my favorite response)

On Friday, we were seated by a table of five women who eagerly wanted to chat, clap hands with, and ogle Everett. He can turn a gnarly, messy activity of eating black beans into a show of mystery, delight, and wonder. He sure pulled ooos and aahhhs out of those ladies.

"Oh, look at those beautiful blue eyes!"

"What a round head!" (I find that comment kind of curious actually.)

"He's smiling at me!"

"Is he always that happy?"

"He's so CUTE!" exclaimed with a high pitched squeak.

Now, I can't blame the public. I find my boys extremely charming and fun. I am just amazed at the outpour of responses that we get when we are out. They sure know how to work it!

Mommy, What's a Rat's Nest?

This is what greeted me this morning when I went to fetch Evy from his bed after his nap.

Yeah, he is having a hard time going to sleep because he hasn't been feeling well. If you would like to replicate Evy's hairdo--grab a bumper pad, wet your hair, and rub the top of your noggin against it a couple of hundred times. That'll probably do it.

Fall Arrives

This morning we were greeted by cool air and brisk winds as we ventured to do our weekly shopping. Everett and I were bundled for the walk this morning, wearing pants and sweatshirts. Erik doesn't need to bundle up . . . something about retaining that strong "I can handle subzero temperatures because I lived in Russia for two years" acclimation or something.

I love this time of year. The trees are shedding the old, old leaves and are turning the bright to dusky autumnal colors that I enjoy. Erik and I were engaged during the fall season and we have great memories of that time. I am ready to make soups and pumpkin bread and get ready for the flurry of celebrations that occur from September to December. I love the fact that I can hear the local high school marching band practicing from my house and the spectators' cheers on Friday nights. (I know that appreciation is from retaining a bit of that strong "Texas football" environment I was surrounded with growing up in Texas.) Go Longhorns!

This evening we will hit the 40s, and I am thrilled about it. I am ready to pack away the swimsuit and don the knee high boots.

Wild With Peek A Boo

Where Is Evy?

Evy is quite the master of Peek A Boo. He officially took over the blanket a couple of weeks ago and loves surprising us when he lowers the blanket. During our travels, he especially enjoyed playing Peek A Boo with those riding in the back.

He was so good at holding the blanket up that twice during the trip he held the blanket up so long that he fell asleep. *We* think that was pretty cool.

For several days, he thought he could play Peek A Boo with anything he could grab. (He likes to play Peek A Boo using his bear though we can totally see each other when he holds the bear up because he holds it very high above his head.)

One day last week, he tried to use the bedsheet to play . . . but he found that when he lowered the sheet to "surprise" us . . . he couldn't see us. He was stuck. No matter which way he lowered the sheet, it was still over his face. This went on for several minutes as he was determined to figure it out own his own. Alas, he had to ask for help and . . .

In the end, he was very excited to see how Mom could get him out of the predicament.

There He Is!

Evy and His Cousins

For a week we were in Texas driving up and down the I-35 cooridor visiting family and attending my sister's wedding.

While in Austin, Clara and Daisy played marvelously with Everett. During one play session, Clara and Evy were on the bed, and she was pulling Evy to his feet and letting him fall back onto pillows. After pulling Evy to his feet at the fourth time, she says with a big sigh, "Sheila, can you help me pull him up, he's so big!" Crack me up! Daisy stepped in and they were able to keep him giggling for a few more minutes.

During our time with them, Daisy and Everett were sitting on the couch with me. Daisy was playing with a book that makes sounds, and it perked Everett's interest. Very gently, Daisy scooted herself and the book over to Everett and they both "read" the book together. It was a very sweet moment to watch.

We had a great time with both of the girls.

Heading north on I-35, we arrived in Waco.

Preston, who actually coined Everett's nickname Evy, was a great host for all of us. This kid loves to play! At one point in the visit, Preston wanted to hold Everett.

After holding him for a couple of seconds he says to his mom,"Help, Evy is squishing me." Evidently, little baby Everett was a bit bigger than he expected. Preston was a constant source of entertainment for Everett. One of the pictures in Everett's room is of Preston, and since we've been back, he laughs and points at Preston's picture each time we pass it.

After further travel up I-35 to Dallas, we danced and played with all the Albritton cousins. The Albritton family decided to celebrate Evy's First Birthday while we were all together, and it ended in the "streamer dance" which Everett enjoyed watching while chewing on the streamers.

So much so that the dye stained his hands, face, and thighs bright red. No worries, Grandma was able to clean him up so he would look semi-appropriate for the wedding pictures.

We had a great time and are grateful for the chance that we had to visit family and friends.

Hospitality--Home

After a week in Texas enjoying the hospitality of friends and family, I've been thinking about the concept of and word: hospitality. Etymology is not my strong point. I did a quick search on the etymology of "hospitality" and mostly found references to traveler, guest, host.

But, I'd like to rewrite or redefine it somehow to include the concept of home. Everywhere we went, we were welcomed and felt at home. We are sure that bringing Erik, myself, and Everett into the equation is quite a task. We are talkers, we create mess, we wake up in the middle of the night (Evy is working on that one, by the way), we eat your food, we create dirty laundry, we can be a bit stinky (read diaper in that), we want to use your car/flat iron/clothes/kid stuff, we want, we want, etc.

Everywhere we went, no one complained or kicked us out. Each family integrated us into their home--made us part of their routines. I am sure they are rejoicing in their newly regained freedom from us. However, we never caught on that we were a burden because of their graciousness.

In fact, one of the ways that we felt so at home is that each family anticipated our needs before we even did. I couldn't keep track of the times that someone picked up Everett when he was fussy, provided impromptu babysitting support, cleaned up who knows how many messes we made, somehow figured out something that we all wanted to eat, gave us directions before we figured out that we had forgotten how to get around, and they never muttered a word of complaint (that we heard, anyway)--they even asked how they could do more. That really makes a person feel at home. Thank you.

Tawk'n Teksun

(Currently, I am waiting for Everett to go to sleep. He is having a hard time and I have a hard time getting on with my day until he has entered slumbering bliss. So, I took another one of those quiz things and you are suffering the consequences of that.)

When You Are From Texas, According to Sheila

You usually drop the 'g' in ing words, example: goin' and fix'n

You combine words and shorten things, for example:

• ya'll
• o'er-yonder (literally "over yonder" which means "over there, people")
• gotta
• gonna
• cain't (pronounced like ain't with a c at the front--for can't)
• warsh (for wash)

It is interesting to note, or maybe not, that everyone around here thinks I am from Connecticut. It isn't from some strategic maneuver to distance myself from my homeland . . . they just don't think that I sound like or act like I am from Texas. I wonder what that means. So, what does the quiz say I tawk like?

Results--

Sheila's Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English 25% Dixie 5% Upper Midwestern 0% Midwestern 0% Yankee

Notice: There is nothing about speaking Texan on the list. . . . Ahhh, Evy just stopped fussing, finally asleep.

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Rise and Shine: It is Labor Day

Everett was up at 5:30 AM this morning. I think it may have even been dark outside still. He seems to think that since he wakes up when he rolls onto his tummy that we should *all* be up, too.

Question: What do parents do when their baby insists on playing that early?

Answer: Bag all over-achieving endeavors to make breakfast in bed. Go to Starbucks, revel in the chocolate and pumpkin loaf and push the previously mentioned bundle of energy in the stroller.

The drawback to all of this: He gets to nap twice today. I get none.

Yawn . . .

What Do I Do With This, Now?

I've been honoring the budget system pretty well ensuring that I have meals ready to go (thawed, marinated, chopped to serve) when we are ready to eat. This evening Erik and I were going to have a quiet dinner to try and rid the stress and anxiety of the past weeks like a snake sheds skin. Great image, I'm sure.

For the menu: BBQ Chicken Sandwiches

We love these things. Easy, delicious, filling, and I can make enough extra for a lunch or two.

I should also mention that I am trying to develop some skill with my food processor. I am a low-tech cook (except for my mixer) and have only mastered a few things using the processor.

In a rush this evening wanting to ensure that we can eat as soon as Evy is put to bed, I decide that instead of taking the 10 or so minutes to chop the deliciously marinated and grilled chicken--I'll throw it in the food processor.

The result is this: (Erik said not to post this picture)

What do I do with that? We don't have buns (which I totally flaked on because how do you have bbq chicken sandwiches without buns or bread?). I didn't want either of us to go to the store. So, what do I do?


This is what I tried--

BBQ Chicken Paté

From dictionary.com--
pâ·té: French Cookery. a paste or spread made of puréed or finely chopped liver, meat, fish, game, etc., served as an hors d'oeuvre.

Yeah, right. The whole time I was thinking, "Maybe this should be Twiggy-food."

So, my adorable husband was incredibly great. This debacle (texture matters, people) followed on the heels of another one: poorly executed buffalo chicken wings and a horrid blue cheese sauce, which I served on Thursday.

Instead of making fun of me, especially since this was Flop #2 for the week, and reminding of some very cooked beef tips I made eons ago (yes, Phillip, I thought of those this evening), when he saw how discouraged I was, he said the following:

• It took Edison how many times to achieve the lightbulb.
• Even the greatest chefs have to be challenged.
• You have to make alot of mistakes in order to achieve perfection (we all know that I am already there on this one).

It is a good thing he didn't lie and tell me it tasted good.

He gave me a hug, went out and got me a Slurpee and a York peppermint pattie, and saved the day with General Tsao's chicken.

I'm lucky!

Getting Some Skills

Evy has been working on the art of fake coughing and fake laughing. He is getting pretty good at it and found a great place to try it out at the pool today.

He loves to interact with everyone around him, and when he couldn't get the attention of three little girls, he joined in when they were laughing with his fake laugh. Yeah, his fake laugh. The girls were 20 feet away from him. So, they were clueless at the ingenious skill and delivery of my 10 month old. But, I was still impressed all the same.

When we put Evy down for bed tonight, he spent several minutes trying out variations of his fake laugh and fake cough in order to be fetched from his bed. And, since that didn't get our attention, he has turned it to fussing, which he is doing now.

He is getting some skills.