Because I Have Boys

Because I have boys, there are certain things I don't anticipate having to deal with.  I won't have to regulate plunging necklines and rising hems.  I have no pigtails to braid, accessories to keep track of, or dolls to attempt to keep clothed.

The trade off, of course, is that I do have to worry about a whole slew of things specific to the male gender.  But that's a topic for another day.

Today, I'm shaking my head at a mess I didn't expect to encounter in my boy-trapped world:

Sacrifice and Gratitude

I'm leaving for Trek in 28 hours.  If I'm being honest, I'll have to tell you I'm not ready.  Even more honest: I probably won't be ready in 28 hours either.

As is pretty much always the case, some of my ideas were bigger than reality.  There's several about which I'll have to cross my fingers and hope they don't turn out lame.  But in every case, I've thought and pondered and prayed for months... and saved all the work until the last minute.

One such example is of the 240 flour pouches that needed to be filled.  A ward in our stake offered to make them, and - excited by a tangible example of trail rations - I was totally on board.  On board, that is, until I received 240 flour pouches that needed to be filled.

I sent out an email for help, but I must have chosen a bad day/time (probably too close to Trek), and no one was able to come help me.  I sat down and did the first 10 in ten minutes.  At that ratio, it was a daunting four-hour task.  I considered my options and came to the only possible conclusion:

Child labor camp.

I expected resistance.  Instead, what I got was a living example of the types of sacrifice I'm hoping the teenagers will think of while they're on Trek.  I mean, what are we really asked to sacrifice these days?  Our time.  Our talents.   

I had four little boys who happily donated two hours of their afternoon to the floury cause.  Dylan handed the baggies to Ryan, who methodically measured and poured in 1/4 c. flour.  Did I mention Ryan is seven?  For two hours, he measured and poured, measured and poured.

I twisted the baggies and taped.  That station took a little more dexterity.  Adam cut off the excess baggie then passed the product to Alex who wrapped it in a handmade flour pouch.

The song says, "Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked."  Well, these children requested music while they worked.  Alex said, "Mom, I think I could work faster if I had a beat."  Thanks to Pandora, we quickly had a good working groove.

I could have had a terrible, lonely afternoon.  Instead I got to hear their imaginations invent a much more glamorous activity.  Did you know that we were really putting gold into coin pouches and giving them to kids with no money?  Somehow that story + the kids' favorite artist (Katy Perry) made me feel much less picked on.

I have all these Trek activities planned.  I've spent countless hours scouring the internet for touching stories and historically accurate research.  But today I think I learned more about sacrifice and felt more gratitude than in all the research hours combined.

Thanks to my boys (and Ry) for giving me their afternoon.  It made my day.

So You Want to Work for CASSCO...

My dad recently hired a couple new guys to replace his workers who are moving on to other things (like my brother moving on to his mission in Bolivia).  As is often the case, he's hired friends and acquaintances of mine.  As Kirk and I were talking about the guys who will be starting in the next few days, we thought it would be fun to put together a list of things every CASSCO employee should know. I brought up the idea last night around the game table, and between my dad, Jack, Chris Kennedy, Kirk, Michelle and me, we came up with a pretty decent list.  We also laughed.  A lot.  And told a lot of stories that wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

I know not everyone's going to laugh at this list, but enough of you out there have been a proud employee of CASSCO at one point or another.  If you can laugh at the words "smoke break," groan in remembrance of the Wheeler grime, or tell a story that starts, "Remember when so-and-so was driving the forklift," please enjoy the list and leave your additions in the comments!

So You Want to Work for CASSCO:

1. Rule #1: Don't fall.  Rule #2: If you fall, you're fired.

2. If you hold your hammer more than half-way up the handle, you'll be called a Canadian.

3. Don't put away Charlie's tools while he's still using them.

4. Definition of a hammer = whatever you can reach.

5. A morning shower is just a waste of time.  (And you might want to invest in some industrial cleaner.)

6. If you challenge Charlie, he will accept.  And he will win.

7. "All I hear is 'blah, blah, blah... I can drive anything."

8. There's always a way.  Get a bigger hammer.   "Hit it like it owes you money."

9. "Using what we like to call... the right way."

10. If you're not bleeding, you're not working.

Good luck to the new guys!  You're part of OUR family now... MWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Oliver

I had certain expectations when the kids decided to try out for Oliver!  Most of those expectations were right on the money, but I've had plenty of surprises.

I expected at least a few nights of reminding them that they made a commitment and needed to go to rehearsal.

But never once did either of them complain, and I never heard as single groan or "I don't want to go tonight."  Even last week when they spent over 22 hours in rehearsal over a six-day period.  Once, even though he had permission to miss for his baseball game, Adam almost chose to go to rehearsal because he didn't want to miss the new choreography.

I expected Adam to struggle to keep up with the choreography. 

Instead, the choreographer has told me that Adam is her rock.  He has consistently come home with prizes for being the kid with the most energy on stage, for making his entrances on time, or for being the one who remembered the dance the best.  I'm so proud of him for being a leader in a group of older kids.

I expected Alex to drive the cast crazy.

But they love him!  I can't walk into the theater without being told how cute he is.  One of the men told me his wife would love to take him home.  Even though he exhausts me, he's charmed them, and I thank every one of them for that.

I expected the logistics of the show to overwhelm my "little" kids.  

Will they be able to make their entrances?  Can they remember to change their own costumes?  Will Adam be able to handle looking out for himself and his little brother?  I think I needn't have worried.  When Adam says, "No, Mom, I'll be able to get my shoes tied in time.  'Consider Yourself' isn't until Scene 5... that means I have three whole scenes to get my shoes on..." I figure I've just got to trust that he's got it under control.

I expected that we'd leave the show behind with pictures and memories as souvenirs.

Instead, Adam got a new lizard (caught in the desert by his cousin Colton), and the boys collaborated to name it Oliver.  I think that's a pretty high compliment to the show; while it has been fairly all-consuming for the month of June, the boys enjoy it enough to want to continue the fun at home.

We've learned some lessons about being the parents of little actors, and I'm certain the performances will bring a few more surprises, but I think my kids are ready to take the stage by storm.

Come see Oliver! (the show, not the lizard) June 22 - July 21 (Fri, Sat, Mon) and see if Adam and Alex surpass your expectations.  (Tickets during the first two weekends are buy-one-get-one-free if you say "Oom Pah Pah.")  Really, who would want to miss this...

His Name Is Al

We named him Alexander.  Somewhat on a whim.  We'd held the name "Alexis" in reserve for a potential daughter, but - unable to agree on the daily name of "Alex" or "Lexi" - decided we'd be just as happy naming our newly identified son "Alex."

The ensuing conversation went something like this: "Well, as long as we're going to name him 'Alex,' we might as well name him 'Alexander," which is Kirk's middle name.

Sidenote: We recently discovered that "Alexander Fife" is quite the family name.  Kirk knew his middle name came from a great-grandfather, but he didn't know that there was an Alexander Fife in nearly every generation dating all the way back to the 1600's (which was as far as we were able to trace it on the LDS church history site, FamilySearch).

So we named him "Alexander" just because and with every intention to call him "Alex."

But we don't.  We call him Al.  We've recently discussed how much that nickname, dutifully credited to his Aunt Marie, seems to have stuck.  We rarely bother with the second syllable, but not out of laziness, and not with a nickname-ish quality.

I think his name is Al.

I could never have set out to name him Al.  I mean, let's be honest.  Al is a lumberjack name.  Or... well, it's the name of this guy...  And, though I loved Home Improvement as much as the next child of the 80's, I could never have set out to name him Al.

But Al he is.  So much so that I'm thinking of asking his Kindergarten teachers to please call him Al.  Better than having to be Alex F. his whole life, thanks to parents who unabashedly bestowed upon him a traditionally top 10 boys name, right?  

But am I okay with that?
A quick Google search for famous Al's turned up:

1. Capone    2. Franken     3. Gore        4. Green         5. Hirschfeld

6. Jolson       7. Pacino       8. Roker      9. Sharpton    10. Yankovic

Interesting company, to be sure.  Al Fife.  Six little letters to convey such a huge personality.

But as I sit here, listening to Grandma Casdorph help him stay focused through their game of Spiderman Sorry, I frequently hear, "It's your turn, Al," and - like it or not...

I think his name is Al.

Executive Chef

Technology is crazy.  To quote the eloquent Dr. Sheldon Cooper, "bat crap crazy."  I mean, I can talk to my Xbox and navigate through screens using methods I still think belong safely inside a sci-fi book.  An iPhone can monitor your heart rate.  You don't even have to go to the bank to deposit a check (if you're a Chase customer... c'mon AFCU - get in that game).  We recently got set up so we can adjust our thermostat through an app linked to our home security system.  And to think faxes still amaze me. *shakes head in bewilderment*

So if it can do all that, I want this (and if it exists, please let me know):

Software Name: Executive Chef

Side Note: Of course I expended the mental energy to title my fictitious software.  And here's why I chose "Executive Chef."  Having watched at least a few cooking shows with my cooking-show-obsessed other half, I've observed that the head chef's job could be summed up as, "everything but the cooking."  And that's what I want my program to do.  But to verify my inclinations, I headed to Google with a quick search for "head chef."  It returned "Executive Chef," which I liked even better.  And, as you read on, you'll see that what I want this program to do very much resonates with the responsibilities of such.  ["spot problems and resolve them quickly and efficiently"  "delegate many kitchen tasks simultaneously"  "maximize the productivity of the kitchen staff"  " ensure that quality culinary dishes are served on schedule"  "modify and create new menus"  " perform many administrative duties, including ordering supplies and reporting to the head of the establishment" (hcareers.com)]  Yep.  Executive Chef it is.

Step 1: Importing Recipes

Raise your hand if you consult a cookbook to find a new recipe.  Allrecipes.com?  Emailed recipe newsletters?  Pinterest?  Most of us are finding our recipes online these days, which often results in a great recipe that I forgot to bookmark and can never find again.

I want my recipes consistently formatted and indexed, but I don't want to have to do all that re-typing.  I figure if there are a whole bunch of free websites where you can paste a YouTube url and it will spit out a downloaded video in a variety of formats, I should be able to paste a recipe url and get a beautifully extracted recipe complete with ingredients, directions, and preparation time.  I also want the online picture and a nice little place to store the url so I can accurately give credit when someone compliments my cooking.

Step 2: Menu Creation

I want a click-and-drag interface that allows me to select from stored main dishes, side dishes, and vegetables to create weekly menus.  I want intuitive software that notices if I've planned beans three times this week or if every main dish features chicken.  I want it to kindly point these out to me and be easily ignored if I really wanted beans three times.  I want the software to learn from my choices so I can use its "auto" feature for the menu creation and have it create menus for me based on its knowledge that I usually pair "beans" with "fried pork chops" (they just look pretty together).

Step 3: Shopping List

Since all my recipes are in one format and the software knows my menu, I want to be able to just click over to the "Shopping List" tab and print out the list of all the ingredients I need.  But wait, that's only dinner.  I want to be able to bring up a list I've made of staple ingredients and click to add those to the list.  And if I choose to click the "reminders" tab, it will ask me questions preset like, "Does Adam have enough school snacks?" or "Do you still have plenty of Scrub'n'Bubbles?"  This feature should learn from me, too.  It should notice if I put cat food on the list every other month, and it should ask me nicely when it thinks I've forgotten.  Of course, I want the option to print my list or use the integrated App to check off items on my smart phone.  (Which I don't have... another thing for the wish list.)

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that I want this list organized.  Not alphabetized.  Not grouped by food type.  I want to be able to select my preferred grocery store, select my route, and have it organize my items accordingly.  "Too much..." you think?  I don't.  If Google can do this...

http://www.googleartproject.com/collection/the-national-gallery-london/museumview/

...well, I think Google can come up with a grocerystoreproject, too.

Step 4: Recipe Display

Okay, the menus are created, the shopping is done, and now it's time to cook.  Assuming I've a tablet (I don't...), now I want to convert that to function as my cook book.  I want lots of display options.  Step by step, voice commanded?  That would be pretty cool.  Or maybe it would read out loud to me.  Also very cool.  I could settle for a regular display, provided that I had readily accessible conversion tables and substitution lists.  And when I'm done cooking, I want a button I click which tracks how many times I've made a certain dish.

Step 5: Fun Stuff

• Want feedback from the fam?  Clicking the "dinner is served" button sends a survey to all the cellphones and/or facebook accounts of family members.  Make it again?  Scrap this one?
• Reports - get reports on anything and everything.  How much butter you ate last month.  When you can expect to need to purchase toilet paper.  Data on who likes which recipes.
• Suggestions - much like GoodReads or Netflix suggests books and movies you'd probably like, I want recipes suggested to me based on my likes and dislikes.
• Integration - with Facebook and Pinterest for sure, but I'd also really like it integrated with the major online cookbook databases.
• Social networking - shouldn't be a major part of the process, but I'd like to be able to have "friends" and see what they're cooking.  Share recipes, etc.

I know I present this somewhat in jest, but in reality, I am doing most of this by hand.  The recipe tracking.  The menu creation.  The shopping list with staples and reminders.  And it takes me so. much. time.  In all reality, if this software/site/app combo existed, I'd happily pay up to $100 to own it.  (I might unhappily pay up to $200...)  

So is anybody out there smart enough to create me my Executive Chef?

And - bonus question - what must have features have I left out?

Eff...

Imagine me, circa 1991, lying on a trampoline with my cousin and cousin's friend, laughing as they try to get me to say words like "crap" and "shoot".  For real - those actual words.  They really just weren't in my vocabulary, and I felt (and sounded) ridiculously unnatural trying to use them.

By high school/college, that had changed, and I could pseudocurse with the best of them.  I've always been partial to the word "crap," using it when I forget something, drop something, feel stressed.  It's my go-to word, evidenced by the fact that Adam has adopted it.

I can't say I've never used the real curses.  A few friends who shall remain unnamed did encourage my occasional swear, but I'm pretty sure that's only because I sound ridiculous when I swear, and it makes everyone laugh.  I'll stick with the pseudos.

It's funny to me, though, how the pseudocurses morph over time.  Just as every generation comes up with new slang for "cool", there are also new pseudocurses that didn't exist when I was in high school.  At the top of the list: "Eff."

I'm pretty sure we said, "flippin'" back in the day.  At some point, that morphed to "freaking," its lazy cousin "frick" and the counterpart, "friggin'".  And now, common especially in LDS speech patterns, you'll hear, "Eff this," "What the eff?" as well as the adjective "effin'" and plain old exclamation, "Eff!".

I'm a late adopter of most fads, holding off until their just on the cusp of not being the thing anymore.  I don't know why this is, but it holds true for clothing, music, and apparently popular slang.  And it was certainly true of "eff."  It just sounds stupid to me.  And yet I've recently found the when I drop something or realize I have a ton of homework I just don't want to do, the word I think is, "Eff."

What happened to "crap?"  Well, that's still the one I say.  I'm not comfortable enough with "eff" to say it out loud all that often.  I mean, it's a freaking letter.  (Yep, just said freaking.)  If it wasn't for all the digital communication, I wonder if it would even have an adopted spelling.  Really, it seems quite silly as a pseudocurse, and I feel quite silly saying it.  Yet, I do.

And then there's the "it's not a curse because I used an acronym" curses.  LMAO or its stronger statement LMFAO.  Kirk uses these.  They're easy for me to avoid, because I don't usually even LOL.  I'm more of a "hahaha" spelled out kind of girl.  But they always seem to present some moral dilemma for me.

I say "Oh my gosh," all the time.  So I could legitimately text "OMG," right?  But I don't, because I worry that the person on the other end with think the other OMG, and I've caused them to take the Lord's name in vain.  And does the acronym take on its own, new meaning?  If I say LMAO, does it just mean "I'm laughing pretty hard here," or does the person on the receiving end deconstruct it to its whole-word parts, arriving at a curse I'd never have used out loud.

Oh, how 10-year-old Andrea would look at me disdainfully.  "You're far too intelligent to fill your sentences with meaningless fluff.  Try an adjective that actually means something," she'd say, laughing at her horrible attempts at using the word "dang" correctly in a sentence.

To which 30-year-old me says, "Eff that."