A piece of the action

A floating piece of The Prince William Sound 

I have already established that my parents are kinda crazy. They are where I got my craziness from. Well, the Native American's in Alaska would call my dad "Insane". The reason.....he got out of his boat and climbed onto a floating piece of an Alaskan Glacier, just like the one above.

My dad spent two years in Tatitlek, AK rebuilding an "Eskimo" village. My family had the great fortune of visiting him for a whole summer. I was about eight, and I have many fond memories of Alaska, as do most of my family members. I think that God knew I was destined to by the wife of a "professional student" and gave me a lot of wonderful adventures as a kid, to make up for the first ten years of geographical monotany in my marriage.

One of the memories, that I do not like to think about from my stay in Alaska was the day that my Dad took us to Prince William Sound. It was a stormy day and my mom refused to come with us. She stayed home with the baby. I think her and my dad had some kind of arguement about whether or not we should go, but my dad won, like usual, and he loaded the six of us into our little "skipper."

Touring the Prince William Sound in a skipper is unheard of. On a stormy day, it was a suicide attempt. I do recall some of the MOST beautiful scenery. A glacier is truly AMAZING! As we crept closer and closer, we heard the cracking of the ice breaking of the glacier. We spotted many seals, Bald Eagles, and Polar Bears. We also witnessed a few Cruise ships go by.

We also saw the HUGE pieces of glacier, like the one above, popping up from all parts of the ocean floor. Call me a BABY, but I was scared! It was so hard to have so many emotions at once: I was in pure AWE at the beauty, yet terrified that I would never live to tell anyone about it.

As if just being there wasn't enough sensory overload for us kids, my Dad had a better idea to ensure that we would all get the MOST from the experience. He anchored the boat to a floating piece of ice and proceeded to climb out onto it. This thrilled my older brothers who begged for their chance at it. The rest of us children were content to just observe, but my Dad cajoled us each to take a turn.

We all got up on the floating ice without being tethered to anything. Dad made sure that we each ventured to the middle to see the "Black Hole". This was a hole big enough for any one of us kids to fall into and never come back, because we would be stuck under the water that lay under the iceberg. This was when I called it quits. I begged to get back in the boat. My dad relented, and for what seemed like a year, I sat in the boat wondering that if the rest of the family died, would I be able to drive the boat back to some kind of civilization.

Well, everyone, by some miracle of God, made it back into the boat. A few minutes later, dad stopped the boat about 100 feet away so that we could look back on the iceberg that we had "conquered". My brother got a bad feeling and told my dad he needed to move the boat NOW. My dad did, and we were on our way. Not more than 10 seconds later, a huge piece of the glacier popped up right where we had stopped. We would have been like a sitting minature Titanic.

The way home was the worst part of the trip. The storm was in full blast and we were being tossed to and fro (like it says in the Bible) by the storms of the sea. My brother and sisters and I all bunkered down in the part of the boat the was jimmyrigged by my dad with a plywood shelter. We were all being tossed to and fro and as I lay down close to my sister Shannon; both of us holding on for dear life, she got sick to her stomach.

I can't really find any humor to this story, except that it is no wonder that I have huge issues about PROTECTING my children. Looking back, I have to say, it really was a piece of action that was ONE OF A KIND.

Holes

A hole in the middle of two studs....hmm. 

I am not talking about the critically aclaimed book. I am talking about holes in drywall. It wasn't until 1999 that I knew how easy they were to patch.

You see, growing up, my brothers and sisters had a favorite game to play. Remember how I talked about that long hallway in The Home of the Free entry. Well, besides lining up for our Grand ol' Flag March, there were a few other things that we did in that hall on a regular basis. Our absolute favorite of all time, was scaling the walls. The hall was just wide enough that when our legs and arms would get to a certain length, we could jimmy ourselves up the wall, like regular mountain climbers. We would place our left arm and leg on one wall and our rights on the other and up we would climb all the way to the ceiling.

Well, as you can imagine, once in a while, there was some damage. It was the COOLEST when someone's foot would go through the wall. This happened several times, mostly to my brothers. My dad is a contractor and so you would think that the holes would automatically be repaired, but NO, they weren't; those four or five holes stayed in those walls until we sold the house 10-20 years later. I always assumed fixing holes in walls was a difficult thing to do until....

Move ahead to 1999. My husband's sister and brother-in-law had just bought their first house. Everyone in LG's family was bursting with pride because they were in their early 20's and were so RESPONSIBLE. LG's parents came out from TN, and we all went to have a house-warming party. Amy and Tyler didn't know it but, our main mission was to break in their house, literally.

LG and his younger brother Jordan, just had to be boys, and at one point they were monkeying around in the dining area. Jordan jumped on LG's back. LG, because of his "man gene", for who knows what reason, decided to play out some kind of move he learned watching WWF. To make Jordan regret jumping on his back, he lunged backward, with Jordan on his back, smashing Jordan's backside into Amy and Tyler's brand spanking new wall. You can imagine Amy and Tyler's absolute HORROR at the sight of Jordan's gluteous maximus impression, and I mean, MAXIMUS, in the middle of their wall.

Amy came at LeGrand will all her vengence (this was her BRAND NEW HOUSE). LG put his tail between his legs and went, beside his dad, like a disciplined child to the local Hardware store. They bought a Drywall patch kit and fixed it up as good as new. Amy says that she can still tell where the bum went through the wall, but I think it looked fine (then again, my bathroom is 1/2 way remodeled and I am OK with that).

Well, on the way home LeGrand was on the virge of tears. (He is going to kill me for writing this) It wasn't that he felt so bad for his "man gene". No one can explain that! He mostly just felt so bad because Amy was never going to forgive him. I thought that his WWF wrestling move was impressive, and I tried encouraging, reminding LG that he had been successful at getting Jordan off his back. I, being the bistander, saw the hilarity of the situation and I tried to make light of it as best as I could. I reassured him that the wall was as good as new and that Amy would eventually see the humor.

Eventually, was the right word. It wasn't until this past year, 2004, that I FINALLY heard Amy laugh when replaying the scenario for friends. She still emphasized, "It was our BRAND NEW HOUSE."

WT

Abigail's "Barbie" blanket 

Here's another confession. Not a proud parenting moment.

When we moved with our three kids to Tennessee, I was plagued with anxiety about how people would view me and my family of 5. I think I was justified, as to the fact that we live on $12,000 of student loans a year + whatever wages my husband can scrape up in his spare time during the school year and summers. [The big fat greedy lawyers do not pay clerks enough. Whenever LG is high and mighty, he is going to fork over some cash to those starving students. Or, maybe he won't, maybe it is some kind of passage of rite: if you can make it through law school alive, then you deserve a decent salary.]

Well, embarassingly enough, I was heard to encourage my children not to do certain things in fear of fitting into the "poor" role. I would give them good advice like: wear your shoes, brush your teeth, comb your hair, don't say bad words, be nice to your friends.....all good pieces of motherly advice. Sometimes, I would put a little add-on at the end, "Now, you don't want people to think that we are white-trash."

One night, we were all taking a late drive home. It was a sure thing that all the girls would fall asleep on the hour and a half drive. Abigail had gotten her pants really dirty or wet so that she didn't want to wear them on the long drive. We were caught without a change of clothes and so we told her to just take her pants off and put her blanket (pictured above) over her legs to cover her up. She was satisfied with the solution to the problem.

Well, we ended up needing to take a potty break and a stop for some more baby formula. We stopped in at the local grocer. I wrapped Abigail up and told her to keep herself covered as we ran into the bathroom. Abigail was only about 4 at this time. When she finished her business, she caught me completely off guard when she said matter of factly to me:

"Mom, now, cover me up good, we don't want anyone to think that I am white trash!"

Be Grateful

Let's play princess 

This picture provided for free by ace-clipart.com

I often remind my children to be grateful for what they have. It isn't uncommon to hear me say things like, "Be grateful for those shoes; some children in this world, don't have any." "Be grateful for your sister, some children never have any sisters." "Be grateful for that broccoli, some kids are going to bed hungry tonight."

Yeah, yeah, yeah....I know I sound just like my mom. As I am writing I am realizing that maybe I need to stop saying these things because my children may learn to only see the negative. But, then they may turn out a lot like me and wouldn't that be so fun?

Well, when you are a mom, you get rare moments that let you know that your kids are actually listening to you. I had one earlier this evening. It went something like this:

I was in the family room with the girls trying to pick up all the toys so that the house would be clean when LG got home. My girls were determined to play dress-up, which means that they HAVE to dump out every costume item from the dress-up chest. I told them to pick ONE thing, so that we could put the rest away. They complied. I walked out to the laundry room to change a load and this is what I heard:

Sophia (3) says, "I want to be a princess, but I can't because I have short hair." Abigail (5) responds, "Some princesses have short hair; you can be a princess." Phia then says, "No,I can't, I need long hair."

Abigail ended the conversation just as she has been taught. She sounded like an old pro when she counseled her little sister, "Sophia, you can be a princess, and you just need to be happy that you have any hair; some people in this world don't have any hair."

Oops!

some random person taking a plunge at Lighthouse Park: Jupiter, FL 
Picture provided by: jupiter-rope-swings

I just had to find a picture of a good rope swing before I tell you this story. Here is the best free picture I could find in ten minutes. (Hey, it's time to make dinner)Some company wants a startling $129 for a picture just like the one above (Ridiculous)

Well, when LG and I had been married about a year, I was privileged to be a leader at another girls camp for the church. This camp experience was really fun. Probably because I didn't have a whole lot of responsibilites except to teach some clases and help other leaders out as needed.

The camp lasted a week up in the mountains in Utah. It was a beautiful place. By Wednesday night I really missed my new husband. So, you can imagine my surprise when on Thursday morning my knight in shining armor drove up a day earlier than expected. I was so happy to see him! LG had brought his mom and dad and sister with him. They had come to just say Howdy, but I ended up leaving with them because my responsibilities were really through, and I REALLY missed my husband. Plus, I thought it was more important to spend time with his family who had come all the way from Tennessee.

Well, before we were to leave, I had to give LG and his family a small tour of the campsight. I showed them the pavilion, the biffies, the girls' tee-pees, and all the other points of interest. We ended the tour or maybe I should say I put an automatic stop to the tour at the small lake. I showed them the canoes and told them about the lakeside meeting we had on the first night where there were candles all afloat and a fire burning in the middle of the lake. We all stood on a small dock as I played tour guide.

At the end of the conversation, I told them about the recreation time we had, just that morning. I said, "The girls really liked this rope swing." There was just one small rope swing that hung off a pole on the teeny dock. As I said this, I grabbed the rope swing and swung out over the water. The only problem was, I didn't land back on the dock as I had intended.

I plunged down to the bottom of the lake fully clothed, leaving my four family members there in astonishment. Now, you know I am Crazy Ali and so, they were really trying to figure out if I was playing some kind of joke or if I had my swimsuit on underneath or if I dove in on purpose for their reaction.

To my dismay and utter embarassment, it was none of the reason above. My hands had just slipped, leaving me under the water trying to figure out how I could swim away. I was thinking, "If I stay under here long enough maybe they will go away". Well, they didn't. I surfaced with a squeal, at which point, they knew I hadn't intended to take the swim. Their howls of laughter almost made my embarassment worth it.

But, for now, I am not going near any rope swings when fully clothed.

J.D.

The ONLY tractor 

Images Copyrighted by Historylink101.com & found at Story of Farming Page

When you apply for Law School, you have to submit what they call a "personal statement" Well, a friend of ours on a Law School acceptance committee advised LG to do something different that would make him stand out as an applicant. Much like what you see Elle Woods do on Legally Blonde. Now, LG was not about to jump in a hottub in his bathing suit, much less, talk into a camera, tape it, and send it to actual living breathing people. But, we did come up with something to start his statement out with a bang. It is based on a true story.

While growing up in the lush foothills of Northeast Tennessee, I had a small lawn mowing business. The pinnacle of my mowing career was purchasing the Cadillac of lawn mowers, a John Deere. Even today I reminisce about the power of my John Deere and how at ease I would feel at the wheel of it. Shortly after the birth of our second child and several months before graduating with my Bachelor’s, I told my wife I wanted to get a J.D. Initially she thought I intended to discard my degree in Computer Science and become a professional lawn mower. I quickly assured her that what I meant by J.D. was Juris Doctorate, not John Deere.

No turning back

August 15, 1997

Don't we look so happy? Well, we were. And we still are. I am a very lucky woman. Will you please remind me of that on the days when we are fighting?

Unfortunately, everyone has to come home from their honeymoon and deal with each other. (We didn't really have a honeymoon and so our "dealing with each other" started from day one) For us, the whole first year was a veeeerrrrrryyy long process of figuring each other out. When we look back on our lives, staying married for that first year will definitely be a "greatest accomplishment" for both of us. LG and I are so different and I am willing to admit that I am hard to live with, and he admits that he can be too sometimes. Part of the reason that we have made it in one piece for the past 90 months is that usually we both think that we got the better end of the deal. And, we also both came into this marriage with the attitude that there was no turning back.

Well, one time, during this year from H - E - double hockey-sticks, we had one of our "discussions". We were not happy with each other at all. This still happens, but just not every day like it did that first year. I had been thoughtless towards him and committed the unpardonable sin of demeaning him in front of other people. And, he had struck back in the car on the way home with a thoughtless remark. (No need to share the details...I am already sharing way more than my VERY private husband would like) Well, I was shocked and hurt because as far as I can remember this was the only time LG has ever said anything hurtful to me. (And, even though we hadn't been married that long, he knew exactly what to say that would hurt me the most.)

LG had let his passive-aggressive side OUT, and it came OUT with a vengence. I was so angry, hurt, shocked, broken-hearted, and depressed all in one. I retreated to our bedroom with the cordless phone. (This is what I do when we fight; I call in all my troops...my sisters, friends, mom, even his mom sometimes) Well, usually my support group just listens and gives me small tips of how they would work out the situation. Well, this time my mom had some WORDS to say to me. I called her in tears and told her what he had said. Instead of defending me and telling me that he had acted like a jerk and I shouldn't forgive him until he came groveling, this is what she said:

"Alice, that is the best man that you are ever going to find."

And although I hate to admit it, she was right!

Home of the free

Land that I love 

Since the 50's the Mormon Church Leaders have encouraged Mormon families to set aside Monday nights as a Family Night. Monday nights are called Family Home Evening, we turn down outside commitments and spend the night at home with our family. We can read, pray, hold family meetings, sing, or do other fun family activities. In my family, Monday nights has to include a song, prayer, lesson, game, and treat. Because my family is very patriotic, we also have another tradition: The Flag Ceremony. The girls act as a color guard and we have The Pledge of Allegiance, and afterward we sing "She's a Grand Old Flag". It is really fun to watch the girls march around the family room with their flags every Monday night. Come on over and see what I mean.

This flag tradition started when I was a child. My parents were patriotic. Much like most people in this country, my great-grandparents, on both sides, were immigrants. My mom and dad started the flag thing during family home evening when we were kids and it slowly escalated into a full-blown production. We had a very long hallway in our house (all those kids + all those bedrooms = that long hallway) After, the flag ceremony, we would all march up and down the hall singing, "She's a grand old flag". After a while, my brothers got bored of just marching and they decided to surprise my parents, who always waited in the family room until we all decided to come back.

One night, my oldest brothers encouraged us younger kids to find a creative object from the bedrooms and to put it on top of our heads. Like in The Sound of Music, we always lined up, oldest to youngest. Of course, we did as we were told. We all got our objects, lined up in the hall, and marched out to the delightful surprise of mom and dad.

The objects started out: shirts, blankets, hats, toys. But the longer this game went on (which was quite some time) the objects got much more creative: underwear, laundry baskets, furniture, wastebaskets. (You get the picture) Looking back on this, we probably didn't display the most reverence for the flag, but through this simple consistent tradition, my brother and sisters and I all formed a great love of the flag and of our mighty country.

Last summer, I was the Assistant Director, of the Knoxville Cumberland Stake's Girls' Camp. The Director was a good frined of mine and we worked REALLY hard at preparing a rememberable camp for the 100 girls that would attend this week-long camp at Pickett State Park.

One item of business that was especially important to me was the Flag Raising and Lowering. After reading my family's history with the flag this won't come as a surprise to you. My friend also knew of my love for America's flag, but she didn't seem to share my sentiment. I have been a leader for The Boy Scouts of America, and so I have witnessed how boys were taught about the flag. I felt like this camp was a rare opportunity to bring the girls up to speed.

Well, as the camp went on, it became more and more obvious that teaching the girls how to handle the flag was not a priority. I tried not to get frustrated as I wasn't in charge, my friend was. One day, toward the end of camp, we were sitting together during a cheap attempt at a flag raising. I said to her, "What is the deal? Why don't you care about this flag stuff?" She looked me straight in the eye and said, "Hello, I'm Canadian!"

Both of us just cracked up. I had forgotten that she was Canadian born. She is so "American". When dealing with 100 teenage girls for a week, it is needless to say that this small bit of humor provided us with just 15 seconds of much needed laughter.

Moral of the story: Unless you are talking to Tom Brokaw, don't expect your Canadian friends to love the flag as much as you do, and don't try to have flag raising ceremonies with a Native Canadian leader.

My Fortune

Proud Daddy 

Since Friday, my husband, LG, has been reformatting my hard-drive. It seems that this blogging business has been a little much for our 7 year old PC to handle. This is the reason I haven't been on much. I still am and will be working out kinks in my system.

I came across this picture, and I just LOVE it. Look at how Happy the new daddy looks. This was Sophia when she was two days old. Sophia is LG's spitting image now, but we never would have guessed it when she was so little. I love my husband, and seeing him as a GREAT father makes me love him even more. He is so tender with our girls and me, his wife, too. I am so FORTUNATE.

Now, don't get me wrong. There are days that I want to strangle the guy. After all, he is a guy and we all know that us women and men have our differences. Take for instance, last night. We were sitting at the kitchen table for hours talking about our plans for the future; mostly, about whether or not it will be worth it for him to do the joint JDMBA. (Another year of this poverty seems like pure torture to us and our kids)While we "discussing" LG kept playing with the girls' new plastic paperclip toys. It was so distracting, and I kept asking him to put them down while we talked. He would put them down, but somehow he would have them back in his hands ten minutes later.

Right, at the pinnacle of our conversation, the paperclip chain violently split in two and one half went flying through the air and down the heating vent. The other half were laying as guilty as could be in his hand and simultaneously, we both looked down at them. He then instantaneously tossed the leftover paperclips to the other side of the room like a red-handed robber. NORMALLY, a little thing like this would set me off. Little scenarios like this are caused by "the man gene" (all guys have it). They just HAVE to play and fidget. But, lucky for LG, I am medicated now and so I was able to just chuckle about "the man gene" just forcing my husband into playing with those darn paperclips, until like always, some kind of destruction occured.