the ABC gum wall

There will be no poetry today. I promise.

There will be something gross, though.

I felt that I owed Tess a good time since her birthday party consisted of a cupcake on an airplane full of strangers. Say what you will about me - my toes are misshapen, I talk about myself too much, I look just like Michelle Pfeiffer (I can handle the truth) - but you can't say that I don't know how to show a three-year-old a good time.

Especially a three-year-old who really loves ABC gum.

We visited downtown Seattle today in search of something called the gum wall. It's basically a WALL that people put their GUM on. And now it's a thing.

So, the gum wall:

I hate to admit this, but once you get past the clouds and the miserable weather Seattle is a cool city. Danged Seattle.

I should mention that I got gum on my flip flop today.

After the gum wall we wandered through Pike Place Market and bought the most juicy, dripping, sweet, magnificent white peaches I've ever eaten. About thirty people asked me if "all of those little towheads" are mine. My response? "They better be or I've been yelling at someone else's kids for the last eight years!" Ha ha ha ha...[walk away awkwardly]

After the market we tried to find the freeway. This is always the most exciting part of our adventures downtown because Seattle moves its freeway onramps around periodically. My method for finding the freeway? Circle around the city until the freeway comes to me. We always end up seeing culture this way - Chinatown, ten foot tall twin popsicle sculpture, transvestites - culture! Today we happened upon this little guy:

And then we found the freeway, so...success!

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Weirdest blog post ever. I blame the lack of sunlight.

I hope you're sitting down.

That, my friends, is a blue sky.

There were tears of joy this time. And then a whole lot of sitting by the pool soaking up the vitamin D.

You know how when it rains in St. George people go outside and watch it? Dinner is boiling over on the stove and you stand on your porch and watch the rain, even run around in it like a cretin. You don't want to miss it because it only happens like three times a year. Am I the only person who does this?

That's how I felt when the sun came out yesterday. I took a PICTURE of the BLUE SKY.

I even waxed poetic. Now you'll need to use your imagination here - picture me in a black turtleneck and a black beret standing on the stage of a Seattle coffee shop (at which I ordered a pastry, because you know me - love a good pastry). I tap on the microphone and announce the following:

"Retinal Damage, by Elise Haynes."
(I'd pause here to wait for the spontaneous applause to die down.)
"The Sun.
You make it warm enough to swim.
Mangos and melanoma and mung beans would not grow without you.
You are sort of yellow, but I can't be sure because I cannot look directly at you without you causing damage to my retinas..."

(Pause here for dramatic effect and to sneak a bite of my pastry.)

"...but you are worth permanent retinal damage."

Then I would receive a standing ovation and people would shower me with pastries.

If I learned anything from Dixie State College it's that good poetry doesn't always rhyme but it unfailingly includes alliteration. Not many edible plants contain the letter M, making alliteration a challenge in this poetic circumstance, but I pulled through like any good poet.

Man, I love sunshine.

In closing, here is a rainbow I saw at Snoqualmie Falls on our Sunday drive.

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The Land of Perpetual February (TM)

Welcome to Bummerville, population one. And her name is me.

My mom flew back to Utah yesterday. We miss her.

We crammed as many touristy things into her two weeks in Seattle as possible.

Here they are, uncaptioned and out of chronological order because I'm both lazy and tired:

I miss my mom. She made these first weeks in Seattle much easier to bear. And as a bonus she gave me an excuse to get the touristy crap out of the way so that I am free to sit around my apartment and think about how warm it must be in St. George.

I'm trying not to let Seattle win. I will not let these clouds get the better of me! But you know what? Sunshine is kind of important to me. I never realized how important it is until this morning when I stumbled out of bed, went to the window, twisted open the blinds, and cried. Literally. Tears falling out of my eyes because it was raining.

They were not tears of joy, just to be clear.

They were the tears of someone who dreams of summer all winter long and has moved to the Land of Perpetual February.

One time Macey was in an extra complain-y mood and I told her that for every complaint she had to tell me one thing she was grateful for, so I suppose I owe you this:

1. I'm grateful that I don't live in Egypt.
2. The treadmills at our gym have TVs on them, so I can watch Three's Company or Guthy Renker programming to my heart's content while I run. I guess that's all that's on at 8:30 in the morning.
3. The Mary Tyler Moore show is on Hulu.
4. Trader Joe's pre-packaged crunchy slaw salad. I love you.
5. These guys:

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Bwoop! Bwoop! Bwoop! Vampire sighting!

With three daughters, I need to come to terms with the amount of shampoo and conditioner we use every week or I will go crazy.

Speaking of coming to terms with things, I think I've finally accepted the fact that we aren't spending the summer on the beaches of Florida. I think. After spending most of yesterday face down on my couch crying, this morning I picked myself up, kicked myself in the butt (which is truly a feat - have you tried it? Definitely worth the effort if you find yourself amidst a pity party of such magnitude), and faced this reality:

Seattle is cold and dismal.

That's that.

Moving on.

Over the weekend we drove out to the Olympic Peninsula. But first we had to take a ferry across the Puget Sound:

Do you like my kids' blankies? Did I mention how I packed for Florida weather and therefore we only have flip flops and shorts and it's been like 58 degrees and rainy every day? And none of the stores here sell coats or sweaters despite the weather. Yeeeaaaah...

(Pardon me while I kick my own butt.)

Where was I? Olympic Peninsula. Gotcha.

We pilgrimaged to Forks. (I'm inventing words today.) I'm embarrassed to display this picture, but my mother, who claims to love me, beat me to the punch on Facebook.

The thing about Forks is that no actual vampires live there, just a bunch of loggers and then the lady working at the Chevron. So when you pull up in your rental van and pose next to the "Welcome to Forks!" sign, they know EXACTLY what you're doing. And you will feel judged. And you will feel ridiculous. But somehow you will still laugh riotously the entire time because it's just SO FUN - vampires and werewolves and the whole kitschy, silly, teenie bopper thing.

Naturally we had to visit the beach at La Push. You know what stupid Bella Swan never mentions in those books? How there's like a mile-long hike through the rain forest to get to the beach.

Not that I'm complaining, because this is where we had our first vampire sighting:

"I'm a killer, Bella!"

And the beach at La Push is spectacular.

Once you tell your kids to pose like a vampire they will be in permanent vampire mode so you might as well join in the fun.

I can't forget to mention our banana slug sighting:

Did you know that the banana slug is the mascot of U.C. Santa Cruz? From what I hear, their football opponents arm themselves with nothing but salt shakers.

[rimshot!]

I'll be here all week, folks.

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3250 miles later...

On Saturday my mom, my kids, and I (plus my friend Sarah and her three kiddos) thought it would be a brilliant plan to drive down the Florida Keys.

Our starting point was Ft. Lauderdale (I'm just too pooped to even BEGIN that story...). Our destination was Key West - a roughly three hour drive.

Where did we go wrong? In the hustle and bustle of the past week we didn't realize that it was, in fact, Memorial Day weekend, a holiday comprised of three critical elements: veterans, barbecues, and horrendous traffic.

Where else did we go wrong? Based on conclusions drawn from listening to songs about the Florida Keys, namely "Kokomo" by the Beach Boys, we assumed there might be actual beaches there.

Wrong.

I was so giddy as we passed this sign:

What a moron.

After a FOUR HOUR drive to the first key - Key Largo (...Montego, baby why don't we go...) - we figured we'd stop at the first beach we found, swim around for a bit, then drive back.

Wrong again!

The "beach" we found was more like a sandy parking lot, at the end of which was a rocky shoreline. Chancho had fun climbing their trees, though.

In summary, the Florida Keys might be fun if you are interested in driving a boat away from them. It was still an enjoyable day, but we knew where we really wanted to be...

We had one last afternoon on Sanibel Island before we said goodbye to Florida and its sunshine, turquoise water, white sandy beaches, and Cubans.

On Monday we flew from Ft. Myers, Florida to Seattle, Washington, a distance of 3250 miles. And I cried over every one of them. I felt like Bella Swan leaving the warmth of Phoenix for Seattle, only with more of a personality and less of a thing for overprotective dudes with rippling musculature.

(Sidenote: Yesterday was also Tess's third birthday. We celebrated by buying her strawberry Chapstick and some mermaid dolls from the Florida Keys, and eating cupcakes on the plane somewhere over Nebraska.)

Today was our first day in Seattle. I must be honest, the landscape is breathtaking.

We found a "beach."

Macey went all Katniss Everdeen:

And we even squeezed in a trip to Trader Joe's for some of those pistachio-encrusted dark chocolate toffee things.

Maybe now I can catch my breath.

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She Sells Sea Shells...

I'm going to need your help today.

I. Love. Florida.

I love the beach.

I love the mating manatees.

I love seeing sea shells down by the sea shore.

I can't leave.

Someone talk me into Seattle, stat.

(How'd this guy get on here?!)

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{sunny} Florida

After a shuttle ride, some waiting...

...a plane ride...

...a layover, another plane ride, and one piece of lost luggage, we finally made it to {sunny} Florida! ...only to be told by my husband's boss that we will be moving to SEATTLE on FRIDAY.

Information that would have been useful to me YESTERDAY.

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Mamma Mia. Here I go again.

So I've been having a Mamma Mia the movie marathon over here. I think it's my new Mother's Day week tradition. That and crying uncontrollably at unexpected times. And eating Australian liquorice by the pound. You know you've reached some kind of hormone ... situation ... when Abba brings you to tears. That "Slipping Through My Fingers" song gets me every time. (I would put a YouTube link on here, but I'm writing from my phone. Look it up. Have a Kleenex handy.)

Aaaaanyway.

I was doing school time with Chancho this week when this little nugget caught my eye:

Apparently this is how a child identifies a mother: doughy face, dopey grin, frumpy hair, blue shirt, looking for something.

What do think?

NAILED IT!

Have I ever mentioned how I love being a mother? Are you new here? I especially enjoy being a stay-a-la-casa mama. I don't care if the world thinks I'm wasting my time. I don't care if people think I'm "not working a day in my life."

Not today, anyway.

I'll be honest, it's not always sunshine and liquorice. I have those days (Saturday morning) when I'm screeching at my children, "I don't WANT to freak out at you guys! QUIT! HITTING! EACHOTHER! Get your finger OUT OF YOUR NOSE!" and then I notice that my back window is wide open for the neighbor's listening enjoyment. Or those days when it's February and I question all of my life choices. But overall I think I have a pretty good gig.

It's not for everyone, but it's for me. The problem is that it passes too quickly. For example, I was taming the shoe pile by the front door today when I noticed my shoe next to Macey's:

When the [bleep!] did THAT happen?!

All I could do was to belt out the Abba and blubber: "Slippin' through my fingers all the time! I try to capture every minute!" Stupid Abba. Stupid giant flip flop. Stupid hormones. And then I stuff another fistful of liquorice in my mouth.

Let's hear it for motherhood. Way to perpetuate humanity, gals.

Happy Mother's Day!

(And, of course, my homage to motherhood wouldn't be complete without giving some recognition to this lady:

She taught me everything I know about mothering, forgiveness, faith, sacrifice, humility, cake, Star Trek, and Neil Diamond. And she brought me into this world, so YOU ALL owe her a big thank you.)

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Baptism story & a recipe, as promised.

My oldest child was baptized on Saturday - my Macey Bella, whose middle name was chosen BEFORE the Twilight craze, for the record.

I love baptisms. Watching Macey's baptism was sweet with just a little bitter. She's growing up too quickly for my taste. Besides that, I love witnessing something so pure and so happy in this world that tends so much toward the negative and dark.

You know how people like to debate religion and argue about the details? And it always leaves you feeling nasty when you are a part of it? I have never left a baptism with that feeling. Just happiness. I think there's something to that.

Remember how last time I promised a yummy recipe? Well. You are in for a treat. Ingredients:

Sweet coconut frozen yogurt
crumbled Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
crushed Heath bars
chocolate rocks
mango and strawberry flavored boba bubble thingies
one enormous red mountain
sunshine
happiness

Combine and let sit for one hour.

You may find yourself asking, But where do I find all of these ingredients, and in the same place? At The Adobe Icebox in Ivins, Utah! Get yourself down there. Get yourself a cup of yogurt with all the fixins. Sit at the foot of the Red Mountain and marvel at the beauty of God's creations.

Don't forget to tell them Elise sent you.

They'll be like, "Who's Elise?"

And you'll be like, "Psht! Who's Elise?!"

And then it might be awkward for a second, so just pay for your frozen yogurt and don't make eye contact.

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Wherein Elise checks out.

Elise has temporarily checked out. She had a mental breakdown which was timed perfectly BEFORE her trip to California with her girl-friends. Why is Elise talking about herself in third person? She can't say, other than that viewing her life from someone else's perspective helps her keep things in perspective.

It has been a busy, busy, busy (did I mention busy?) couple of weeks. Let's not bother with catch-up. Let's just talk about California, because it was super fun and I want to relive the experience.

We camped on Doheny State Beach. It wasn't camping so much as it was sleeping in a tent at the beach the middle of Los Angeles and showering infrequently. I think I would make a terrific bum - I couldn't have been more pleased with the situation.

We didn't bring any menfolk with us, therefore our meals consisted of grapefruit, salads from Trader Joe's, and Thai food. And we talked about our problems ad nauseum. We put the nauseum in ad nauseum, I'll tell you what. We watched "The Lucky One" and then discussed the wild Alaskan husky dog-ness of Zac Efron's eyes at length.

I just love hanging out with women. Especially this amazing group of women:

And I will mention them because they deserve mentioning - the seagulls. Oh my LANTA, the seagulls:

They were very Hitchcockian.

After this weekend I have a new favorite beach. Corona del Mar. It was clean, beautiful, flanked on all sides by multi-million dollar homes. A line from "Tangled" kept running through my mind the whole time we were there: "Yep. I'm used to it. Guys, I want a castle." Mark my words: When I die, heaven will be Corona del Mar with a concession stand that serves Kneaders French toast every morning and Pedro's Tacos every night.

Now I'm home. Today is Macey's eighth birthday. She's getting baptized on Saturday. Where is time going?! Anyway, tune in next time, I'll have photos of Macey's "bath-tism" and maybe a yummy recipe.

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