Southern Utah Extravaganza!

We packed up the Tahoe and headed out to Southern Utah last weekend for some family time, red rock rejuvenation, and hard core triathloning. (Or triathlon-spectatering.) I give you our photo diary:


Wyatt with one of many caterpillars he discovered at Zions. He thought they were waaaay cool.

All the kids in a mom-imposed group shot at the Zion's visitor center. Wyatt thought the whole "group shot" idea was waaaaaay lame.


But he recovered on the bus ride. Cool again. No car seats!

The wonders of nature!

Another pose-y, mom-coerced shot. No Wyatt this time. Didn't want to push our luck.



A little photo shoot on the lawn while we were waiting for Forrest and Wyatt to get some lemonade. Aren't they good lookin?


Wyatt doing the happy dance while we were waiting for Forrest to come zipping past during the triathlon. The music was hoppin!--although they did have something like five or six songs on a continuous loop, one of which was "Living La Vida Loca."

All the other kids boogie-ing (how does one spell boogie-ing??) down. Oh, except the one who's going to be a teenager soon. But he was smiling. :-)

And here he is, zipping past. Is it just me, or does he look super hunky? And kind of menacing with the stubble and sunglasses? And if he looked hunky and menacing, it was authentically so, since he kicked butt: came in 9th out of the 50 or so competitors in his age class. Not bad for his third triathlon ever! Especially considering the canceled the swim portion--it was too windy, apparently, for the kayakers to hold their positions in the lake--and it was a bummer since Forrest does really well on the swim. Instead they ran a 5k, did the 13.2 mile bike ride, then ran another 5k.

Smiling during transition. (The same couldn't be said of me during the only transitions I'm familiar with--those of the childbirth-induced variety.)

Coming in after the biking portion

We took the kids to a fun little park in downtown St. George the evening after the triathlon--they had a ball. The night was so pretty and warm and sundappled.

I gave in when Wyatt said to me, "Mom, shirt off?" But I drew the line at "pants off?"

Cool picture, no? With the Dixie "D" in the background? And mom, see? He didn't fall to his death.

Although Jonas did have a hard time making it from one side of the "riverbank" to the other when we hiked Bryce Canyon . . .



The boys climbed to the tippy top of a little trail (while the girls and Wyatt stayed safely below).
There's nothing like the orange of the rocks at Bryce.

And yeah, Mom, this log crossing did have me a little worried.

The kids and me, Mother's Day 2009, Bryce Canyon

It was a wonderful trip. Big thanks to Mindy and Peter for making it even more fun. I wish it could have lasted longer!

Good Stuff

Lots of good stuff this last week. The best of the good stuff being:




Jonas Leo got baptized! (And doesn't he look handsome there with his handsome dad?)

It was a wonderful day. We had lots of friends and family in attendance, a portion of which is (of whom are??) pictured here:



We also almost got a halfway decent family photo, if only Wyatt didn't have his fingers in his mouth:



I can't imagine a better kid than my freckly-nosed Joe. We're so lucky to have him in our family, and it was great to be able to celebrate his baptism with so many people who love him too.

We also had some good stuff during the two weeks the "middle children" (Jonas and Elise) were off-track from school. They had a piano recital--duets!--and they played together masterfully. Didn't even kick each other underneath the piano.




We spent a fun day at the zoo with my friend Delise and her kids:



Oh, and we also celebrated my Dad's 60th birthday with a SURPRISE birthday bash. A surprise that was miraculously carried off, since it borders on impossible to pull anything over on Detective Dad. But we did!

And last but not least, my sister's in town with her kids for the week. We had a lot of fun today with them and Grandma at Jungle Gyms (thanks Grandma!). Wyatt's a BIG fan of bumper cars, spinny things, swoopy rides and merry-go-rounds--especially with Grandma. Can you tell?




All in all, a really fun week, full of lots of good stuff. The only mixed blessing of the week was the cancellation of my spring creative writing class--not enough students to carry it. But I say mixed because although I'll miss the paycheck, it was going to be tough to squeeze in two nights a week away from home and the compressed grading schedule. I'm hoping it will give me some time to wrap up the anthology I'm editing and actually finish the blasted short story I've been working on for the past (what??) six months? And then once that's done, maybe I can start on one of my two abandoned novels. Maybe? Hopefully? Can I get my behind in gear? ("Yes, Angie, you can!" you all say. And I thank you for your support. I need it. Sometimes I think a small dose of obsessive-compulsive disorder would come in handy. But that's another post . . .)

The Whitneys

I attended the Whitney Awards on Saturday and had a grand old time. Forrest and I got gussied up then headed out for a lovely dinner (we both chose the beef--didn't know if we could trust the salmon) and awards ceremony. Here we are, gussified:





And here we are again at the actual event just before receiving the aforementioned beef, which was quite tasty, by the way. (And yes, I stole this picture off of the official Whitney blog feed):



I got to sit by Tony's DB editor, Lisa Mangum, a very nice woman who rejected BoE with a form letter a couple of years ago (and I don't blame her for it--truly--since BoE doesn't fit into DB's marketing niches well at all). She has a new book coming out this year with DB's Shadow Mountain imprint and it's supposed to be really good, so I'm looking forward to reading it. I also sat next to Aubrey Mace, also very nice, and she won Best Romance. She seemed genuinely surprised and it was fun to be at a table with all that positive energy.

We also sat by Ally Condie, author of DB's Freshman for President (among other things) and her husband. Ally had already sent me the nicest email about BoE . . . so I was predisposed to like her :-). But she was very cool, and Forrest was grateful to have another man (Mr. Condie--can't remember his name!) at the table to talk to. Mr. Condie's an economics professor--and one of Forrest's waylaid dreams is to be an economics professor [and isn't that a totally endearing waylaid dream? So much better than famous bass fisherman or something]--so we had a lot of good conversation to keep us company while we ate.

Oh, and Andrew, right after I mentioned that my brother was Anthony Sweat, author of the now famous Why? book, Ally said, "But isn't your OTHER brother the Normal Mormon Husband???. I LOVE the Normal Mormon Husband!" Drew, I think you are officially the most famous among us.

But on to the awards. The banter during the presentations was funny, just like last year. The fantasy writers (Scott Savage, James Dashner, et al) were quite entertaining, with Scott dressing up in drag like Stephanie Meyer. I had to wait until the BITTER END before doing anything nerve wracking, though. I read a little snippet--all the while telling myself to read sloooower, keep it cool, girl--then they announced the winners for my categories. And even though I told myself that I was NOT going to be nervous and I was NOT going to care if I won anything--because it is an honor just to be nominated, and I'm not just saying that--my heart rate was approaching baby rabbit speed.

They announced my first category, Best General Fiction (Whitney rules are you can only win in one category), and that went to Annette Haws. I've heard her book Waiting for the Light to Change is quite good. So then they got to Best Novel by a New Author and my baby rabbit heart kicked up to fetal rabbit heart after they said my name. I'd had in mind some things I could possibly say if I did win anything, but that all went out the window the minute I stood up. I rambled some things about how I was grateful to Parables for taking a chance on the book because it was hard to categorize and I'd gotten a lot of rejections (and then told the story about how one publisher gave me a note that said "I like the book, but short stories are the kiss of death"--don't know if I should have said that. Ah well. That's what happens when you extemporize.) I talked a little bit about how grateful I was for the chance to write and see the book published, then I also said something like "Even if I never have another book published again, I'm so grateful to have had the chance to do what I love--write--and have other people read it," which I also probably shouldn't have said in that way, because it makes it sound like I never intend to write another novel. Which isn't true. What I MEANT to say was that there are so many talented writers in the world who never get a chance to see their books published and that I never want to forget how lucky all of us are to have had that opportunity, and to always be grateful for it. Or something like that. Who knows what I meant. Anyway, I had a number of people tell me they liked my speech, but in my day-after instant replaying, I'm worried the take-away is, "I got a ton of rejections for my book and I will never write again!" Ah!! Where's my time travel machine? Forrest keeps telling me to stop obsessing and that it was a good speech . . . oh, and that I'm crazy. Which is probably true.

But it was a lovely evening, quite exciting, and I'm so grateful to all the people who put so much time and effort into creating such a great event. And now I have a pretty award to put on my shelf:



Thanks to all of you, my friends and fam, for all of your support and enthusiasm during this whole journey with Bound on Earth. Gussified evenings and awards are just frosting on the cake of all your love and overall awesomeness. (And yes, that was a terrible metaphor, but you are my friends and my family and this is my blog, so I can indulge in terrible metaphors and I know you'll all still like me. It's such a relief :-)!

Finish Line!

Two big finishes this week.

Big Finish Number 1: I held my last class for Winter semester on Thursday, with a "final" much like the finals I took in creative writing workshops during my MFA: instead of having a big scary final exam with essay questions and multiple choice bubble sheets, we had a reading and "celebration" where those of us who wanted to brought food. So we clapped for each other, ate cookies and veggies and dip, and had an altogether lovely evening. This doesn't mean, of course, that the students didn't work their butts off. They did. They wrote and wrote and wrote and read and read and read and revised and revised and revised. So the celebration was well deserved.

I've really loved this group of students--good people all, and a few of them are truly talented. And besides, they brought me presents. Really! Presents. First time in my college teaching career. I got a DVD of the movie Vantage Point, which I haven't seen, and which they bought as an homage to my obsession with point of view, and a really lovely card that everybody signed and that contained a $25 gift card to Barnes & Noble. It was really so sweet. (Although now that I think about it, I wonder if it's a no-no to accept gifst? But what was I supposed to do? Since the gift was from everybody, then there's nobody in particular for me to play favorites with. Right? Because I really won't.)

We'll see if my Spring class even happens, though. Since Spring term isn't part of the "official" academic year for BYU, enrollment, especially at the SL Center, is really low. For a while I had three students signed up, but as of right now I only have one. I need (I think) four or five for the class to carry. And although it would be nice not to have the stress of the Tues/Thurs compressed schedule, we could (um) use the money. So here's hoping.

And I do love teaching. Even when it stresses me out. Grading can be a grind sometimes, but time in the classroom? Love it. I still feel so lucky that I got this job.

Big Finish Number 2: Forrest finished the Salt Lake Half Marathon (13.1 miles) this morning! He did fantastic. His final time was 1:45, a full ten minutes better than last year, representing a 8 minute mile pace. He looked good when he came running toward the finish line, too. It was fun to take the kids there and cheer. Forrest ran it with his sister Mindy--her first half marathon, and she did great as well. I always get energized at races like this, seeing these masses of humanity who've decided to do something hard and see it through to the end. Really inspiring. I'm undeniably proud to be related to some of those people :-).

Forrest giving us the "Hey, I see you!" wave.

Forrest running over to give the kids high fives.

Forrest and his sister Mindy. (D'ya think they're related??)

Forrest and the kids. Jonas was doing what I call "puppy hands" when I tried to take this picture (see last year's Easter picture in my previous post for a perfect example of the "puppy hands" pose)--so squinty-eyed Joe is better than squinty-eyed, puppy-handed Joe.

Elise and her cousins, Bella and Ayva.

Oh! And before I forget. Two funny things Jonas has said in the last week or so:

Funny Thing #1:

Jonas: Dad, Who would you choose? The first black millionaire or Helen Keller? (The implications of this is, "Both represent pretty awesome accomplishments. But which one wins in a head to head?")

Dad: I don't know Jonas, who would you choose?

Jonas: (Thoughtful contemplation). Helen Keller. Yeah. Hellen Keller.

Funny Thing #2:

(Context: the kids were all in the car talking about what they wanted to be when they grew up.)

Jonas: We all have the things we're good at. Ethan has animals. I can't remember what Elise's is. And I don't know mine.

Wise words, Joe.

Spring! (And pictures)

It's finally been bright and sunny outside and I've been able to take some good outside pics with the new Christmas camera. So now for your Spring-ish enjoyment, a compilation.

Cute Wyatt, one spring morning (post-haircut):



Studly Ethan, playing baseball. In this particular game he had two great hits and was awarded the game ball. And yep, that's Forrest in the background, standing in as 3rd base coach:




Studly Jonas, also playing baseball (same night, different field):





Wyatt at our neighborhood spring party:



Elise, also at our neighborhood spring party (looking fetching):



And last but not least, what always happens when we try to take an Easter picture with all the kids in the frame at the same time. See last year's picture, beneath it, for proof. (There are some issues not even a new camera can solve):




Here's to spring, new cameras, ridiculous attempts at group photography, sunlight, and Easter!

Mmmmm . . . conference

I love Conference weekend. Not quite as much as I did when I was Primary President in Minnesota (oh, the relief!) but right now it's 9:45 a.m., I'm sitting on the couch in my U of U sweatpants and Johnny Cupid's Bar & Grill t-shirt, ready to chill and listen. Chilling and listening are good things.

And can you believe all the snow in Utah over the last couple of weeks? Although it was a big fat pain in lots of ways, I was selfishly glad for it last week because two of our three baseball games were canceled and so was soccer yesterday morning. Forrest was out of town from Sun to Fri, so it was Nice with a capital N not to have to chase Wyatt around in the biting wind. I'd wake up and pray for snow. Prayers ANSWERED!

I am not a good sports mother. I'm trying.

Elise's cute friends across the street, "the twins" McKenzie and Taylor, moved yesterday. Elise is sad. They were good kids. There are new residents in the house to our East, too, but I haven't met them yet. Forrest has though. Forrest always seems to meet everybody. (It helped that he was outside breaking up a section of our driveway with a sledgehammer--the concrete was all pitted and icky and he's going to replace it. Good first impressions? BANG BANG BANG! Hi There! BANG BANG BANG!)

Jonas is sick. He threw up at my mom's house last night into a large cast iron pot we brought for the express purpose of containing his vomit. It was my cousin Meghan's bridal shower--and oh, she looked so pretty and happy, the quintessential glowing bride--and all the men were at Priesthood session, so Joe had to buck up and come. He's a very good sick person. Takes care of things, etc. He's doing a little better this morning but is still a little green. (Around the gills. Where in the world did that expression come from??)

Wyatt likes to dance to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. He kills me. He also just got a haircut and looks like a little thug. A cute little thug who loves the MoTab.

Ethan is now on Facebook and just threw a sheep at me using SuperPoke. It is a new day.

And last but not least, HAVE YOU SEEN MY BROTHER'S COMMERCIAL???? It's on right this very minute. Right before conference. It's SO VERY COOL! You can see it on the Why? Facebook page here.

Eight is Great! (And so is 38).

Jonas turns eight tomorrow.

Is it cliched to say how it seems like only yesterday that we were driving to the hospital in Maplewood, Minnesota during a March snowstorm? It couldn't have been eight whole years ago that the nurse wouldn't let me have an epidural until--whoopsie!--I was eight centimeters dilated and the mean sixty-ish Asian female anesthesiologist couldn't get the needle in the right spot on my back and during her fourth attempt yelled at me, "Stop crying!" while I was balled up on the edge of the bed in the middle of a killer transition contraction and Forrest said, "She can cry if she wants to!" and I would have kissed him right there if I wasn't so sure I might pass out any second?

And the little baby boy who joined our family that day--the 8 lb. 3 oz. kid with the Hallstrom nostrils who didn't cry after he was born but instead looked around quietly (which freaked me out, but of course I always need at least a half dozen things to worry over and then Google and then wish I hadn't Googled for the first two months after giving birth)--has grown into this:



The kid loves a good chocolate cupcake. And doesn't he look handsome with a nice short haircut?

We had a party for him on Friday. A smallish party where we invited a few friends from the neighborhood, ate pizza, had cupcakes, then headed out to the Nickelcade--a total dive, but the kids love it and lots of the games are still only a nickel. And I figure if the kids are going to run around screaming they might as well do it where their screams are muffled by the sounds of electronic "Deal or No Deal," ski-ball, and 14 year olds banging their palms against violent first-person military shooter games.

And can I say that after recently having a party for my dear 11-year-old daughter that the differences between males and females are starkly clear once you gather them together in a room and let them loose?

Girls (sitting quietly watching Elise open presents, one by one, murmuring approval):



Boys (in the one and only picture I have of all of them together, because in the other shots I attempted somebody either skidded across the floor and fell down, or put his hands over another kid's eyes, etc etc.)



That's not to say the girls weren't silly as all get out at their party. Oh, there was all kinds of silliness. But in the car on the way to Elise's movie the girls were talking about Twilight and school and whether or not they should go to Claire's to buy earrings afterward. Here's some of the dialogue I remember from the trip the the Nickelcade:

"I wonder what would happen if I put my butt in a time machine?"

"What if I chopped of your head and threw it out the window?" (This was not meant as an insult).

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Spell I-Cup! Spell I-Cup!" [speller spells I-Cup] [raucous laughter].

Etc.

They're all good boys--they even decided, on their own, to pool all the tickets they earned at the Nickelcade and split the total six ways so everybody would get a good prize, which I thought was impressive. But man! Boys are boys. (And woman! Girls are girls.)

On a related birthday note, today was Forrest's 38th birthday. He told me not to buy him anything. This is one evidence of how the recession is ravaging our household, as is Forrest's recent purchase of Electrosol dishwashing detergent (Cascade?? Hello?? What is this, the Great Depression?) and Western Family brand everything. Western Family cooking spray (oh, Pam, where art thou?), Western Family cream cheese, Western Family dryer sheets, Western Family cream of chicken soup.

When he starts buying me Western Family Diet Cola, the end is near.

At any rate, he insisted that he didn't want anything for his birthday but to not be in debt anymore--oh, how I wish I could get him THAT--so I didn't get him anything. I wrote him a card (I'm not heartless, now) but didn't buy him a present, and now I feel like the lamest wife ever. He keeps saying that he really really didn't want anything, but now I'm convinced that no matter what he says I'm going to always have to get him a birthday present because I can't stand feeling like such a slacker.

Cause it's all about me, you know. Ah, I'm a joy to be married to, I'm sure. Don't buy you anything AND subject you to wheedling questions about whether or not you really really REALLY didn't want anything for your birthday in order to assuage my guilt.

Love you, though. Hopefully that helps. (It does, right??)

Random Synaptic Firings

-I have a crush on Barack Obama.

I try to be levelheaded and circumspect, especially in light of how much money he's spending, but every time I hear him speak in person I can't help trusting every word that comes out of his mouth. I realize this is evidence of my own personal preference (e.g. if Bush had made the Special Olympics gaffe on Leno I would have thought he was such a BOOR, but I mainly felt sorry for Obama and his slip of the tongue) and that it's not a good idea to trust ANYONE, especially a politician. But I do think the guy's the bees knees.

-One of the reasons Forrest and I like going to the movies together is so we can feel superior to all the people who 1-like a really bad movie they shouldn't like or 2-don't like a good movie that they should like. I realize this is an annoying quality on both of our parts, but at least we have each other, no? We just went and saw Duplicity with Julia Roberts and Clive Owen and it was quite good. Not great, but good--stylishly directed, well-acted, kept you thinking, had some humor. On the way out we were both talking about liking it and then overheard a guy behind us say to his date, "Well that was a waste of two hours." Then Forrest and I got to look at each other knowingly and congratulate ourselves that we got it and the people behind us didn't. We're insufferable! No wonder we like Barack Obama.



Oh, and can I just say that it does my heart good that Julia Roberts' waist is thickening up a bit, and that she has some wrinkles on her forehead? She's still gorgeous, but looks real. Go Julia!

-There *is* something about The King of Queens, though. Highbrow it's not, but it's like sit com comfort food. It's on right now (it's always on at 9:30, when Forrest and I are sitting on the couch with our respective lap tops), and I'm not sick of Doug and Carrie yet. Sick of Jerry Seinfeld and Rachel Green and Ray Romano. Not yet sick of the Heffernens.



-My official least favorite season is "Winter-After-Spring." It's those days (like today) when spring has teased you outside, led you to don your short sleeved shirts, manipulated you into putting the puffy coats in the big closet, and then BAM! You wake up to snow. And not just a sprinkling. An honest-to-goodness, bone-chilling, snow-blowing-in-the-street-like-its-January winter storm. Ugh! The betrayal!!

-My right ear got clogged with water and has yet to unclog itself. Tried q-tips, murine, warm water in the baby nose syringe thingie--all to no avail. Double uggh!

-My kids are funny. I mean funny-on-purpose funny. I like having funny kids.

-Forrest has (inexplicably) started pushing out our bedtime from 10:30 to 11:00 (or even later!). Whaa??? This is the man who's been my go-to-bed go-to guy, and here it is, 10:11, and we're both just sitting at our computers, no indication of wrapping things up and heading to bed. Doesn't he realize I'll stay up until 1:00 a.m. if he lets me?? Maybe it's a test . . .

Serenity Now!

*warning--this blog post is way too long*

The clock is ticking, Forrest is napping on the couch, warm sun is coming in through the windows, Wyatt is sleeping, the kids are in the basement and

ah . . .

peace. I don't get enough of it.

Have you noticed a recurring theme on my blog? Basically the one that enumerates the busyness of my life and the craziness of my days? I forgive you if you're sick of it, because, frankly, I'm sick of it too. I'm sick of being so busy; I'm sick of talking about how busy I am; I'm sick of dropped balls and cut corners and weighing the good and the better and the best and still being unable to clearly see what's gotta give in my life. Things aren't totally out of control, but the last couple of weeks I've been walking a knife's edge, teetering toward chaos--and my friends, it's not much fun.

But, but, but. The problem is I feel like so much of what's making me crazy is either things I couldn't give up if I wanted to . . . or things I don't want to give up even though I could. I've made some small steps toward reigning in the insanity (not doing much PTA this year, I just sent out a plea to members of our ward book club to see if someone else would be willing to be in charge) but as of right now I'm still doing my best to be a good mom and wife and Mormon without giving up some of the other aspects of my life that are so important to me (writing, teaching, editing Irreantum, etc.) I know some people who have busier lives than I do who seem to manage to pull it off quite gracefully, too--but many of these people get up every morning at 5:00 a.m. and/or have given up watching television altogether, two concessions which I'm apparently too lazy and/or obstinate to consider.

So there you have it. I suppose I'll just keep blundering along and occasionally have a tantrum on my blog.

And now after listening to me whine, you get to enjoy the run down of my crazy week! Here goes.

Saturday March 7th: Forrest finally home after being gone since Sunday (hooray!--that he was home, silly, not that he was gone since Sunday). Elise & Jonas participated in "Encore Festival," an adjudicated piano competition where their pieces had to be memorized. Somehow (prayer? begging? both?) we managed to whip the pieces into shape after both of them had been sick for weeks, and they both did great. Poised, confident, no major slip ups. Women at the Well dress rehearsal. Stake leadership training in conjunction w/ Stake conference (all RS Presidencies were invited to attend) and Stake adult session (4 hours combined sitting time = screaming tailbone).

Sunday March 8th: Actually a pretty nice day. Stake conference, but Forrest stayed home with Wyatt and Ethan, as both were sick. I went with Jonas and Elise, heard some good speakers, more tailbone pain. Mindy and Pete and their kids came over for dinner. (Mmmm, good roast, hon). Finished reading the essays for a contest I'd agreed to read. (I know, I know, but hey--they paid me!) (And I know, I know, it was Sunday. Sigh.)

Monday, March 9th: Took my Grandma Ranquist out for lunch. Wyatt was adorable and held her hand in the parking lot. Picked the kids up early from school so we could drive through a March snow storm to the Draper temple open house. Met my mom and dad and Grandma and Grandpa Hiatt there and were lucky enough to get right in--not a lot of waiting--and to somehow keep Wyatt under a moderate amount of control throughout the whole experience. Which was beautiful, by the way. Then we went to La Frontera and ate some excellent smothered burritos and had just enough time to scoot on over to Riverton Music for the actual piano recital (same music as Saturday, just for families this time). Jonas and Elise, once again, performed with aplomb. Forgot my camera. (Did I mention ball dropping??). Got home that night to discover a few loose ends and minor emergencies re: Women at the Well the next day, but all was resolved before bedtime (hooray).

Tuesday, March 10th: Women at the Well decorating (9 am) final rehearsal (10 am) and then typing up and copying of programs and writing of thank you cards for participants and putting together of my own costume. Loaded up my car and headed to the church dressed as an Isrealite.

Found the microphones no longer operable. Five minutes before the program was to begin, some inspired genius (and I still don't know who this person is, but whomever you are, bless you) figured out that since we'd closed off one side of the gym with the accordion doors the microphones were automatically cut off. Don't know how (or why) the building is wired to do that, but there you have it. So we opened the doors with much relief and began the program. Here's a shot of all of the wonderful women in my ward who participated (and me), singing our hearts out:



And another shot of the beautiful cakes (and cake table). Since it was our official Relief Society Birthday celebration, we figured we ought to do something birthdayish:



The night really turned out great, though. So many talented women (singing, reading, decorating, making cakes), the attendance was high, the spirit was strong. This kind of event is the perfect example of something that I decided to do that I didn't necessarily *have* to do. (It was my idea originally, although I did get lots of help, especially from the committee and from Corinne, the enrichment leader and pianist extraordinaire)--and many times leading up to it I wondered if we were crazy to tackle such a complicated undertaking for a Relief Society activity. But when all was said and done, it was a meaningful experience for me and lots of other people, and I'm so glad we did it.

Wednesday, March 11th: Forrest left for Idaho. I took the morning slow, did some much needed cleaning and laundry, went to the gym, graded an essay for class, got my head around the next day's lesson plan. But then things kicked into high gear for chauffeur-mom as both Ethan and Jonas had their first baseball practices of the season and I also had to get myself and Elise to a special assembly for all 5th grade girls that evening (you can figure it what it was :-). One practice went from 4:30-6:00 with a parent meeting afterward, the other from 5:30-7:00, so I ended up feeding my kids chicken nuggets in the car while driving from one practice to the other, speeding home at 6:17 (the babysitter had arrived at 6:15 and was waiting for me), left with Elise for the assembly, had a neighbor bring Ethan home by 7:00 so he could go to Scouts where he was to give a speech he'd prepared for a merit badge (and he had to avoid contact with the babysitter who was, of course, female, and embarrassingly close to his age), went out for ice cream with some moms and daughters from our neighborhood, got home a few minutes after Ethan, who was waiting upstairs and out of babysitter's visual range, paid babysitter, helped with some homework, got kids to bed, and . . .

Here's where things got a little off kilter. I had 12 major essays plus a bunch of shorter assignments to grade for my Thursday night class and had told them I'd get them done that week. My plan was to grade 4 on Wed and 8 on Thurs. (It takes me a long time to grade essays. I comment a lot. I try not to but I don't know how else to go about things.) Anyway, I'd only graded ONE. And I was so tired that night. My head hurt. So what did I do instead?? I watched my TiVoed America's Next Top Model, answered emails, fiddled around on the Segullah editorial staff message board, went to bed too late. (Oh, and I also ate half a bag of Brach's Chicks & Rabbits, my great Easter weakness which I NEVER SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT knowing that I would, well, eat them.)


Thursday, March 12th: Woke up determined to grade, grade, grade. Get 'er done. Seemed doable. But . . . the phone kept ringing. Wyatt needed me. Etc, etc. So I finally gave up and took some of my papers with me and went to McDonald's where I figured Wyatt could at least play in the germ-infested jungle gym thing while I graded and ate my chicken salad. I did get a good amount of grading done (although it was funny when four women from my ward came in, all chatty and happy, hanging out, and all I could do was say, "Hey! Good to see ya!" then get back down to biting on my pen and speed reading.)

Got home, put Wyatt down for a nap, kept grading. But then I got the call. A call I don't get very often, considering. Forrest's plane had been delayed. I'd been planning on his being home in time to do some of the baseball practice chauffeuring, kid feeding, etc., but there had been a mechanical malfunction and he had no idea when his plane would be leaving. Long story short (and this has been a really long story--this whole blog post--sorry), having to take and pick up from baseball practices and make dinner and all that normal-Mom jazz was just enough to send the rest of the afternoon spinning. I didn't have enough time to finish grading all my papers. I sent an email to my students telling them I had to pick up my son at 6:45 and I would book it as fast as I could to campus, but might be 5 minutes late. I yelled at Ethan for not being able to find his baseball pants (in front of my daughter's friend, who looked at me slightly aghast. And sorry, Ethan). I zipped over to practice, picked up Ethan, dropped him off and left Wyatt in his charge and the house a disaster.

I was making pretty good time until I realized that I'd left my BYU badge at home, and I needed it to get into the parking. I looked down to rummage through my pile-o-stuff that had accumulated between my seats, hoping I'd left it there, but while I was doing that I accidentally got off on the wrong exit. Yes. Perfect. So after a five minute detour, I found myself finally downtown but in a pay lot--luckily they took checks. I dashed inside the building and burst into my class room six minutes late, just then realizing that I'd left the magazines and newspapers I was planning to use for an in-class writing activity in my car.

Blast! Drat! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

(I didn't actually say that, of course. I smiled, smoothed my hair, started talking about how "only conflict is interesting" in the short story . . . unlike in life :-).

Class went well, but my head was buzzing on the way home. Partially because I hadn't eaten any dinner, true, but also because I was so aware how precarious my life is sometimes. How when one domino falls, the whole set-up comes crashing down.

But can I say how glad and grateful I was that Forrest had cleaned up the house after finally getting home that night? Coming home to a tidy living room and a loaded dishwasher was bliss.

Friday, March 13th: Nothing on the calendar. Nothing!! Did some yoga. Cleaned. Puttered. Went to Tony and Cindy's house that night to see Tone's new book--which is just amazing and I'm so proud of him I want to cry. (BTW, Tony is finishing his basement by himself, getting a PhD, writing books, painting, serving as Elder's Quorum President, holding down a full time job, and parenting five kids, so I think he's got me beat. Could all this be genetic? Oh, and if you haven't seen T's website, you should check it out at www.ldswhy.com. Deseret Book says the book should be out by April 1st, if it gets here in time on the slow boat to China it's literally sailing on as we speak.) Cindy made us brownies and ice cream and the kids played. I love my family.

Saturday, March 14th: Elise's birthday party! We had eleven giggly girls in the house for pizza and cake and ice cream. Then we headed over to the theater to see "Race to Witch Mountain," which wasn't half bad (granted, expectations not too high). Although I did fall asleep during the culminating action sequence. I did the same thing at the James Bond movie. Getting beyond the fact that I'm now falling asleep at movie theaters, isn't it weird that I tend to fall asleep during the loudest parts? I think it's my brain's way of saying, "Stop! I just can't take it any more!"

Here are some pics of the party and my cute 11 year old girl:






Then that night we went to dinner with Darrin & Katie. (At Marie Callendar's. Long story as to why we ended up there, but needless to say Marie Callendar's is no longer the epitome of fine dining it represented in my youth). We visited Muriel in Magna and spent some time outside in the cool evening and watched some quail bursting out of her trees. Muriel's house is always so peaceful.

And now it's today. Slept in a little (hooray 11:00 church!), went to 11:00 church, had some late lunch, blogged for an hour. Man, this is a realllly long post. So sorry. If you've come to the end of it, congratulations.

Next week shouldn't be nearly as bananas. I'm sure my blog post will be short and to the point as well. And now, we're going to wake up Wyatt and go for a nice walk. Blue sky, cool air. Ahhh.

How could anyone like Jack better?

I mean, seriously??
Even clean shaven, and with the nerd glasses and the 70s clothes, his Sawyerness is so compelling, n'est-ce pas?

I love Lost.

When it rains, you know . . .

Just when everything Bound on Earthy had settled down some, we (meaning the book and me) have gotten a little busier of late. There was the lascivious Deseret News review and the Whitney noms, and this last week I had three days of being Angela the Author (instead of what I really am the vast majority of the time: Angie the Diaper Changer, Enrichment Organizer, Carpool Shuttler, Cat Throwup Remover, Homework Helper, etc. etc.).

Wednesday I attended a Mormon lit class at UVU. They'd read my book and we had a nice discussion. Well, 3/4 of the class and I had a good discussion. There were a couple of what I like to call the "disgruntled." One girl in particular was kind of unnerving, staring at me all slitty-eyed, not saying a word. I wanted to ask "Do I offend?" a la Duckie from Pretty in Pink, but it probably would have made matters worse. The other students were enthusiastic and kind, though, and we had a great discussion. I'm always surprised which stories people want to talk about ("Thanksgiving," "Accusation," and--this is so weird to me because it's one of my least favorite chapters, one I even considered getting rid of-- "Helping," the short one when Beth's a little girl and tries to make dinner). Nobody ever--EVER--mentions, for example, "Mission Call," a story I quite like, thank you very much. Anyhoo, just interesting.

Then Friday I was invited to participate in BYU's Reader Series, which was very cool. They'd even made some slick-looking posters advertising the event, and it was a little disconcerting to come to campus and see myself smiling out from the library window. I was worried that I'd have a grand total of seven people at the reading--including my dear Segullah friends and my students whom I'd bribed with extra credit--but apparently other English teachers had bribed students with extra credit as well, because there were at least 30-40 people in attendance, I'd say. (Although it's hard for me to say for sure because once the lights dimmed and I was standing there reading I entered the zone-of-nerves and in such a state my math skills are seriously diminished.)

There was a reception and signing afterward. Didn't sign many books--five or six maybe?--but hey, students are poor, you know? I was glad to see that the trays of food that had been provided were immediately devoured. Seriously, in like three minutes all the food was gone. Students are poor AND hungry. At least they got some free cookies. Then the creative writing faculty took me to lunch, as is customary with these readings, I've been told. Due to some scheduling conflicts, only two of the professors were able to make it to lunch and they wanted to take me to a Thai place just off campus. Last minute, we decided it would be better if I drove . . . so that's how a celebrated poet ended up sitting on a pair of vampire teeth in the front seat of my Dodge Grand Caravan, and a highly respected fiction writer and scholar folded himself up next to my car seat, keeping his knees clear from the two empty Diet Coke cans I'd put in the center seat cup holders because I hadn't gotten around to throwing them away.

There are times one has to simply suck it up and roll with it, you know?? But lunch was good. Amiable chatting, tasty Pad Thai. It was a thrilling, nerve wracking, "Angela the Writer" kind of day, and although it was a lot of fun, I was also relieved when it was over. Being "Angela the Writer" kind of wears me out.

(An aside: Does this revelation make me sound like I'm a big fat faker? I feel like I'm always myself--at least as much myself as any of us can be--but depending on the circumstance I'm a slightly different version of myself. Mom the Clothes Washer and Homework Pusher. Sister Hallstrom the Relief Society Lady. Angie the Fun Girl from High School. Ang the Wife and the Friend. And, yes, Angela the Writer and Professor and Editor and Attender of Conferences. None of these sides of myself seem false to me--in fact, I think they're all essential facets of my personality--but is it wrong that I'm not my exact same self 100% of the time, all day long?? Ah well. This is a philosophical question for another day. Or, actually, never, since it makes my head hurt to think about it too much.)

So on Saturday I attended the Association for Mormon Letters conference. I try to attend every year if I can. See some friends, learn some new vocabulary words (this year it was "ontological," which turned up in no less than THREE of the sessions I attended, including the fantastic keynote address by Terryl Givens, author of People of Paradox: A History of Mormon Culture.) This year my lunch was free, though, because I received the AML award for the novel. I was tremendously honored, and it was great to touch base with old friends and get better acquainted with some new ones.

So! That's been the latter half of my last week. This week we have baseball tryouts and Women at the Well dress rehearsals and today I'm going to welfare square for five hours to do some dairy-related service, which I'm kind of looking forward to. Standing among a bunch of other Mormons in a hair net, no posters in sight, can be a beautiful thing.