The Gold Family

Not so glee

I have this problem.
I can hardly admit it.
It’s an addiction that a Mormon doesn’t like to talk about.
We try to keep it in the closet as much as possible.

Once in a while it just comes bursting out though.
I need to rid myself of the guilt.
The Glee induced guilt.
It doesn’t feel glee.

Yesterday I was sitting watching the show after school.
Hulu is my best friend, ever since Caroline lost our digital converter remote.
The girls gathered around.
I always get nervous about this.
I know I shouldn’t let them watch such trash.
This episode was particularly trashy.
I try to justify saying it gives us an open communication
about the evils of today’s world.

Well the show was all about under-aged drinking.
Just as the girls gathered around,
the main characters were gathering at a party.
Before I knew it, they were all drinking heavily
and doing stupid things associated with intoxication.

I said, “See kids, this is why Dad and I won’t allow you to go to parties where there is drinking.”

Later, Bella wandered off for an after school snack.
As she came walking back towards our TV viewing via PC,
she immediately noticed that the characters
had advanced to drinking at school.
Without missing a breathe, she hollars,
“See Mom, this is why you shouldn’t allow us to go to school.”

Hiking with Maria
This is Maria.
Maria loves to hike.
She also loves our family,
even though she has threatened to never speak to us again
since we are moving to Utah, and leaving her beloved Tennessee.
Yesterday
we called Maria,
so she could take us to one of her favorite local trails.
She said it was kind of steep,
but I convinced her we could do it.
We headed to House Mountain.
Where the only trail condition is steep.
We all wore out our calves packing 30 pound Caroline.
Maria tried really hard to get a nice family photo for us.

I think she did a pretty good job. Given the incompetency of her models.

I am certain we would have quit before getting to the top without Maria’s help.
Or one of our kids would have fallen off a cliff.

Look she got a great shot. If only LG was looking at the camera this would have been the perfect photo to say goodbye to our life in Tennessee.

Even our dog  loves Maria.

Maria said it all would be worth it
when we got to the top.

I believe she was right.

The Snow Blues
After a month of almost consecutive snow days and Winter Break,
this mom is officially in Cabin Fever mode.
I even pulled out my old gowns as a new point of interest.

I have been in a foul mood.
I am not sure quite why.
It’s a combination of things, I am sure.
The lack of sunshine.
My house being at 60 degrees to conserve cash.
The cooking three meals a day,
EVERY day.
O.k. I’ll be honest:
no breakfast
just lunch dinner and the 4th meal.
The daily routine of
Wizards of Waverly Place, Hannah Montana, and Cake Boss
should be envious.
(And just for the rest of you moms who are trying to survive
with a Netflix membership
because the remote
to the digital converter went missing ages ago
and you don’t have any real T.V.
the last of those three shows is the winner of
Best Entertaining TV)
And there’s nothing like a really long
run-on sentence to express the true sentiment
of my last month.
I’ve been dreaming of going to Carlos’ Bakery
for a warm lobster tail or crumb cake.
Of course, in my dreams,
I am decked out fashionably
with my hair done, make-up on, and nails brightly painted.
I guess if my mind really had some imagination
I should have been wearing a Miley wig
and some Wizard glasses.
Because that is what the kids would find entertaining.
But, in my dreams,
I am all alone.
Go figure.
And then I sit to blog.
Because maybe it will help me find myself.
Or at least pull me out of this mood.
And I stumble upon this old photo:

and I remember how awesome my kids are.
And how fast they grow.
And then the smell of a poopy diaper
brings me back to my senses.
Just as Caroline goes flying off the bottom of treadmill.
And for the millionth time
with my kids
we laugh.
And I think
it’s too bad
their teachers don’t get to
see them at their best.
And I tell myself
to embrace these snow days.
Because even though the days go by so very slow.
The years fly by.
And, next winter,
if I am lucky
The Tennessee weather God
may bring no snow at all.
But of course,
by then I may be living in South Dakota.
And LG will still be saying,
“Oh, but this is still nothing
compared to the Winter of ’88.”
And I will no longer wonder how my mom survived
with seven children
because I will be longing
for my childhood
in
Southern California.
Where snow days
don’t exist.

What a year.
Posted by Picasa

So, here is your Christmas card.
If you are a diehard,
you can print us out and put us up on your wall
so you can prove to all incomers
that you really do have friends.

This year was the kind
that we didn’t have a professional photo.
We also didn’t want to spend for the
cost of printing and mailing.

To put it lightly,
our family has been tried tremendously.
To put it honestly,
we have walked through hell
and we are hoping that we are on our way back.

It was the kind of year that made me grateful
for a simple family snapshot.
Even if it was
as an afterthought,
and we ended up with a crappy backdrop,
and the sun was in our eyes.

You see
we were on our way to church,
together.

And together
is
huge.
It’s more than anyone can ask for.

This morning
I realized that I wanted a living record
of the end of this year,
as I looked at my daughters
and the love of my life.
We were all in the colors,
black, white, and red.

And I saw that as a great representation
of a very hard year.

We are all
still trying to do the right things.
Together.
And that pretty much sums it up.
God has held us together
in the palm of His hand.

And I am extremely
humbled
and
grateful.
And happy.

I look forward in faith.
Even if the sun has been blinding.
And what better Christmas message is there?

My daughters would not be any more beautiful
with a professional photo to prove it.
My marriage would not be as strong
without the trials and intense work.
My friends would not have reached out to us
in such love
without our pain.
Our gratitude for loving parents
would not be as deep
without the struggle.
And our testimony of a loving God
would not be as intimate.

I think we have every reason
to
rejoice.

Jesus Christ makes all things possible.
He is love and light.
He will blind you
if that is what it takes
to heal you,
to love you,
and
to know you.

And when you get through it,
you will be grateful for a sun so bright.
Even if it hurt temporarily.

Merry Christmas to you.
Especially if the sun is blinding your eyes.

Peace and Quiet

Tonight I am grateful for peace and quiet.

I am not sure what is making me so grateful.
It may be living 24 hours a day with a very hyper 17 month old.
Or the fact that I am now the mother of a teenager.
Or that I have a daughter exactly like me who could talk non-stop all day.
Or the cheers and incantations that my only quiet child has felt loyal to practicing.
Tonight, LG is getting a sleep study.
I can’t wait until he gets his C-pap machine.
There’s nothing like a c-pap’d husband that can make a woman feel old.
For some reason, that just made me think the man was getting his yearly vaginal exam.
What is that? Not c-pap. But some other form of pap.
So, tonight, I am grateful for peace and quiet.
Because it may not be too much longer that I will enjoy this luxury through the night.
(Insert the sound of c-pap)

But really, I have found serenity.
In peace and quiet.
And I long for it.
Even if I only get it for a few short hours during nap time and before I conk out in bed at night.

Stuck
This morning while trying to fold laundry
the baby was out of sight
for a few minutes.
She began hollering.
I ran to the rescue.
She had climbed onto the kitchen table.
My last post makes this story even funnier.
This morning someone had left the maple syrup
in the middle of the table.
Of course that is Caroline’s spot.
I assume she had climbed up to claim it back.
In her 16 month old mind
I guess she decided to take that syrup out.
Out of the bottle to be exact.
The table had a healthy layer of syrup
across it’s whole surface.
And of course Caroline
had it all over herself too.
She was hollering because she didn’t know
how to get out of the mess.
If she moved, she would stick in place.
I scooped her up and put her in the bathtub.
Clothes, shoes and all.
I’m experienced like that.
We got the job done.
Caroline was stick free.
The clothes were in the dirty laundry pile.
And the shoes were washed out.
The table was also scrubbed
to shine.
Now that Carline is down for a nap,
I’ve had a minute to reflect
on my relatively unproductive day.
About how this little incident
parallels my life right now.
I feel stuck in the middle
of a lot of sticky goo.
No matter where I choose to move to
or even if I choose to sit,
it’s still not fun.
And I want to holler out for help.
I wish someone would scoop
me up and throw me in the bath.
And then clean up all the messes.
And then I remember that I am 37 years old
in three days.
And no longer 16 months old.
And I have to find my own way
out of messes.
Even if I don’t like syrup
and would have never
spread it across my living space.
I need an
Aunt Jamima size miracle.
And I am sure that God will deliver.
Because I am his 16 month old
who cries out of help.
Even when I am 36 and 362 days.

Sunday homework
I believe I already wrote about our frustrations
with the amount of homework Abigail has in 6th grade.
But the frustrations have been so monumental
that I can’t write about it enough.
I am having a parent/teacher conference
with all of her core teachers about it on Tuesday.
I sent them an e-mail last week
out of utter frustration.
LeGrand laughed on Thursday,
when for the second day in a row
Abigail came home with no homework,
except for the 4 major projects that had already been assigned.
LeGrand said,
“Do you think that this change is a result of your e-mail, Alice?”
The change had been drastic.
Abigail has been doing homework every waking hour
since school started.
My reply with a wink:
“I absolutely think it is because of my e-mail.
Why would you think any different?
You know that
I have influential writing skills.”
We laughed.
Well, here is a church sign that I captured this past week.
I am posting it in honor of the homework
we will be supervising with Abigail all evening.
Supervising meaning
she will have to do the work,
but we will have to make sure she stays focused
and gets it done.
I am kicking myself for living the hell
we call Sunday night homework.
I remember how my parents
used to always beg us to get our homework
done on Friday or Saturday.
But really, I don’t have the heart to
make her do it on Friday night,
when she is completely wasted mentally.
And Saturdays are busy!
Sunday just seems easier,
as all we really have scheduled is
a three hour block of church.
Tonight’s big assignment is a current event project.
I can’t wait.

When I saw this church sign,
I couldn’t help but think about
this post on a blog that I have been frequenting.
The Knoxvillian author of mamapundit
just lost her son to a drug overdose.
I am appalled at what people say to her.
It has some serious religious fervor going on.
It gives you a taste of
living in the Bible belt.
Of course, I put in my two cents.
Well, I believe I will copy and past my e-mail,
(to the teachers, not to mamapundit)
in case any of you ever need
some influential writing.
What is your opinion about the homework thing?
Dear Ms. Parker and 6A Team Teachers,


Abigail Gold is my daughter. And as I know none of you well, I want to preface this e-mail with the fact that I am not one of “those parents”. I will absolutely do everything in my power to support you all in your goals as I will for my child. I know we all have her best interest at heart. Abigail has always been a straight A student and has never had any problems completing assigned homework. I am worried that her Honors classes may be too much for her to handle at such a young age. If we were to take her out of honors, would there be a considerable difference in the amount of homework?

My husband and I are both very dedicated to helping Abigail succeed with her education. We are very concerned because Abigail has had an abundance of homework. We are worried on two accounts. One, is all this homework really necessary? And two, does our child need an A.D.D. assessment? She is having a terrible time concentrating on her homework. I am not sure if it can really be considered Attention Deficit Disorder or if she is just sick and tired of studying all day every day. She understands the material and so I hate to take her out of Honors, but I am worried about her emotional well-being. She doesn’t have a minute to relax anymore…not a minute…until Friday night. This past weekend, we did homework for eight hours on Sunday, where we repeatedly corral her back to her desk to focus. I have thought that our 3 other children were a lot of the distraction issues for Abigail, but on Sunday our other children were at their Grandma’s.

Tonight we did math for 2 hours, social studies for a 1/2 hour, and language arts for 15 minutes. This doesn’t even touch the 1/2 hour reading she is supposed to do for her Reading class. She also has 4 ongoing larger projects that she has only barely started. Today, she came home from school, did homework until she ran out the door to her soccer game and then came home and ate dinner while working on the rest of her homework until 10 p.m. This has been typical since school has started. Even on the nights she doesn’t have soccer or church, she is still doing homework from the time she comes in the door until she goes to bed.

I understand that Knox County has raised the bar, but is homework the answer for these kids? As adults, we don’t want to work all day every day, and I especially don’t think it’s fair to expect that of an 11 year old child. I don’t think it’s healthy. I also don’t know if this is just an Honors thing, but if it is, is it really fair to approach honors by giving the excelled students more work than they can handle healthfully? Our whole family has been negatively effected by the amount of attention is required for Abigail’s homework.

Trust me, I am all for teaching my child good work habits. (Let’s not even talk about the chores she never has time for anymore) Abigail has high goals for college and talks of Ivy League schools, and I understand that she needs to learn good study habits, especially if this is her future goal, but I am sending this e-mail with grave concern for my daughter. I hope you can all shed some light for me. I know all the other parents have said that their kids have a ton of homework too, but I think we may need some medical attention for Abigail. I have been told that the schools conduct assessments when a parent expresses concern, and I wonder if this is true? I know you all are much more experienced with middle school and with a variety of students and I am novice with my oldest child just starting 6th, and so I would greatly appreciate your thoughts.

Band Blues

Abigail surprised us by bringing home her french horn yesterday.
She said the band teacher made everyone take their instruments home.
She hasn’t been going in early to practice
because she says that they have only learned three notes
and she already has them down.
She took out the instrument to demonstrate.
I said, “What notes were those?”
She said, “Mom, that was one note.”
LeGrand and I busted up.
We couldn’t help it.
And then LeGrand said,
“Alice, maybe you should go down to the school
to see about switching Abigail over to just choir
instead of the choir/band combination.”
Abigail smacked him.
And her and I proceeded to the piano to practice some more.
It’s about time the kid has some humbling experiences.
Between band and never-ending homework,
I think she’s finally being challenged.
We are happy.
And still chuckling
over
“which notes were those?”

Thanks Cally.
Sometimes, I just love my friends even more.
Because I remember that I love them
And real.
And humble.
And they don’t have to be perfect,
and when they don’t act perfect all the time,
it gives me permission to be myself.
I wonder why sometimes
I waste time
building friendships
with non-real people.
You know,
they are made out of cheese.
I guess this is my guest post for the week.
Because Abigail came home with lice on Tuesday.
And I have been laundering,
and mayonaising,
and RIDing,
and laundering some more,
and spraying,
and vacuuming,
and crying,
and bagging everything,
and boiling hair things.
And my brother has been in town.
Thank goodness without his kids.
I would die to give them lice
and lucky for David, he is bald,
and had a hotel room.
Did you ever read my post
(Yeah, I just made that word up.)
Congrats to me.
Therapy has worked.
I’m o.k.
to tell the whole world
that my daughter has lice.
I have arrived.
I don’t care.
Go ahead,
I dare you.
Call me
A-lice.
It won’t hurt.
Have a wonderful Friday.
And know that this completely imperfect person
will never EVER claim to
be anything more or less than just that.
And, yeah,
sometimes my kids don’t shower every day.
But, that’s not how they got lice,
because they’ve been doing that
for 6 years.
And they didn’t get lice
until Abigail went to middle school.
And I have my suspicions
of how she got it.

Ish

Sophia started another new vocabulary word.
I told you before about
We’ve been using it for a while.
We’ve also been using
Ish.
It means kind of, nothing exciting, mediocre, in the middle,
or I am not really sure what to say right now.
It’s a noun, verb, and adjective all in one.
How was that ski lift?
Ish.
Were you scared?
Ish.
What would you call a ride like that?
Ish.
How old is this picture?
Ish.
Implement it.
It’s a perfect word.
Perfect-ish.
Shortened to ish.