What's a blogger to do?

Hello, out there!

I haven't been writing because, well, I have nothing to say. Life is just ticking along. School's almost out. The little girls are their usual energetic, manic selves. I've been washing dishes, cooking meals and watering my roses. I got nothin'.

But fear not! The Clark Clan Road Trip Extravaganza kicks off on Friday, and soon I will have more content than I can handle.

Stay tuned!

Musings on Mother's Day

Mother's Day is a emotional holiday for a lot of people. One's relationship with one's mother is often complicated, to say the least. But no other single person has as much impact on one's life as one's mother. Fathers are very important, and necessary, but your mom is ground zero, so to speak.

My mom taught me some critical things. My love of roses. A zero tolerance policy regarding disrespect from men. To indulge my curiosity. To make pie crust. And then, there are some things Mom definitely did not teach me: anything to do with sex or the female reproductive system, for example. Or how to cook. She also once advised me to NOT learn to type, 'cause then I'd be stuck in the steno pool. (bad call, Ma....)

Recently, I attended the memorial of the mother of a good friend. She was lauded and remembered as the best of mothers, a lady who alway set a gracious table and instilled good manners in her five boys. She was sweet, yet firm; a master-practitioner of "parental judo". These sort of skills and duties aren't gonna save the planet or cure cancer. They merely change the world in small, yet vital ways. To teach a young man that it is unacceptable to plunk a mayonnaise jar on the table, or chew with his mouth open, may not save his life, but it may land him a job, or impress any future in-laws.

My mother-in-law, a.k.a. "Super Gra-Maw" has taught me a lot about parenting. Her patience is legendary. (hi, Terry!) (hi, Trevor!) She, too, has a black belt in parental judo. To watch her handle my twin 4-years olds is to stand in awe of the master. She also has standards that she expects to be met. For instance, it drives the poor woman mad when the trash bins are left out in front of the house.

Then there are my children. Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that I am a mother. I have to remind myself to model good behavior and manners, to eat my veggies, etc. Sometimes it really is a major drag having to be the grownup. You cannot just react to things, you gotta think 'em through and respond appropriately. There are times I just wanna flop on the sofa and eat something from a bowl, but I can't. And now I have to make my bed every morning, because I'm attempting to teach the wee lassies to make theirs. Although, Claire has an advanced technique to deal with the new chore. She refuses to sleep under the covers. She doesn't want to have to deal with the sheets in the morning.

Where does all the dirt come from?!

Today I was cleaning the master bath, tackling the hard water deposits. We have a large clerestory window facing west that provides quite a bit of light. Too much light. Suddenly I realized every surface was covered in dust, there were dust rhinos (not bunnies!) in the corners. The hair was unbelievable.... Even the door was dirty.

Where does it all come from? I found myself with a cleaning wipe (natural & biodegradable, of course) going after the grime on the pocket door. Which got me down low enough to see the dirt on all the base boards. Then I noticed how badly the carpet needs cleaning.....

Getting famous!

Our tiny little town is starting to get noticed.

http://www.sunset.com/travel/california/templeton-travel-00418000067499/

It only took me 27 years to figure out

This morning I made myself an omelet for breakfast. I sautéd a green onion from the garden , added half a seeded plum tomato and finished this masterpiece with goat cheese crumbles and freshly cracked pepper. It was yummy.

Please note: there is ham in our fridge and I did not put any in my eggs.

This is a major departure for me. I love ham; love it, love it, love it! But I decided I didn't want to eat meat this morning.

"What?!?" I hear you cry. "Who are you and what have you done with Jen?!?"

Time for some back story.

I grew up in the MidWest. Meat and potato country. Always soup and bread, never salad, territory. I moved to California in 1995, and discovered fresh veggies. Green beans were a revelation. It got to the point were my roomie asked me to please stop with the damn green beans, already! I learned what a good tomato tastes like and the joys of quality Cabernet. But I never did develop a fondness for salad. I mean, I'll eat one, especially if my kids are at the table, but I don't ever lust for the stuff.

In high school, during Philosophy class, we had a Seventh Day Adventist as a guest speaker. He was extolling the virtues of a vegetarian lifestyle. I distinctly remember asking him, " Have you ever had a good steak?" He replied, "Yes. And it tasted great. But it's not good for you."

I thought the guy was willfully insane. Really.

Having read "The Blue Zones", which totally validates the diet of the Adventists, Miles & I are eating less meat, more veggies and whole grains. At first, it felt like a real effort. You know, not eating whole grains because we liked 'em, but because it would help us live long enough to see our daughters graduate from high school. But with my omelet this morning, I realize lately, I've been making healthier choices because, well, they tasted good!

Mr. Adventist, I get it now.

One big, happy, chaotic family

Last night, Miles and I went to the PAC to see Rockappella. For those not familiar with this group, they are 5 guys singing modern pop/rock/doo wop/Motown a cappella. It's quite a show. They dance! They sing! They pick ladies from the audience to serenade! Their talent is amazing and their music and moves are tight and well-rehearsed.

In order to attend a function like this, a surprising amount of planning and organization needs to be in place. And since the Clarks are dwellers in chaos, it's always a whirlwind of last-minute changes and forgotten details.

The original plan: Kayla will stay the night at our house and watch the little girls for us. Miles and I would drive down to Poly to see the show.

What actually happened: I jumped into the shower at 3:30, dressed and got everyone packed up and in the van by 4pm, then drove all four kids to Susan and Ron's house. Next I drove to Cal Poly to pick up Miles, then we hurried to the CPA's office to sign our taxes before 5:30pm. Then, realizing we didn't have the tickets to the show with us, we placed a panicked call to my mother-in-law, who arranged to have our tickets reprinted and waiting for us at will call. The next part was nice. My husband and I got to spend some time together. We had a leisurely dinner, and a brief stop at the bookstore before the show. We saw the performance, then headed back North to pick up the little girls. Aeron sobbed when we put her in the van to take her home. Susan, whose heart strings had been well and truly pulled, rushed out the door with a fuzzy blanket for Aeron to cuddle.

Nothing is ever simple 'round here.

Overruled!

While at Super Gra-Maw's house.....

Me: "Come on, girls. Time to go home"

Aeron: "I OBJECT!"