Getting a move on

"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer,
the top of the live-long year,
like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning."
--Katherine Paterson

I like that quote very much. Except, well, this is what the first week of August looks like at our house:

Not so top-of-the-ferris-wheel feeling, I assure you, but definitely cathartic, frazzling, and good. We are on day 2 of a 5-day pack and load process. In a severe test of my organizational abilities, all of our household goods had to be sorted into six sections: things going into storage, things going in the air shipment, things going in the sea shipment, things going with L to her apartment, things going with us in our suitcases for the next month, and a whole load of things we don't want anymore. We have alternated between resembling an episode of Hoarders and an episode of Storage Wars. (Please, come buy the junky contents of my garage right now! I'll give you everything for $1.)

And guess what? We have a signed purchase and sale agreement on our house, scheduled to close at the end of August. We're very grateful for the timing and the way things worked out. Whew.

Here's  one thing I've been wondering: what happened to my fight-or-flight response? Because I'm pretty sure that when I'm stressed I don't tend to want to fight through or high tail it & run away. I just want to curl up in a nice little fetal ball and have a nap. Apparently adrenaline is a sedative for me? That can't be evolutionarily wise, right? Fight, flight, or...fizzle?  

Lots to catch up on! More soon.

The kids are all right

When we first brought up the possibility of our Australia adventure, the kids' initial responses were pretty characteristic of their personalities.

Lauren: Cool! When do we find out for sure? Can I come? Can I have one of our cars here at university?

Maddy: (in the middle of G's sentence "my company has an opportunity in Australia-"): YES! Let's do it!

Sam: (quiet, measured look on his face): Hmmm. I don't know. I'll have to think about it.

Keep in mind that we have always talked about how great it would be to live abroad as a family. And that we love to travel and have tried to emphasize experiences over things. On top of all that, we have a pretty strong lineage of wanderlust and adventuring. So, while this opportunity came kind of out of the blue, the concept is not too earthshattering for our offspring.

Even so, as we've absorbed the reality of the enormity of this change, of course all of our initial responses have gone through stages of both tempering and leavening. Sam has gradually warmed to the idea and now is enthused and even predicts he'll want to stay through high school. Lauren remains upbeat and inquisitive but I'm sure she has moments when it feels like we'll be far away (I know I do).*  Maddy has had some sad moments of leaving-itis (e.g., student body elections for next year) sprinkled amidst her excitement. She kindly demonstrated the progression of her emotions:

As I told my parents and sibs recently, it definitely feels like that metaphoric roller coaster ride, complete with adrenaline and the occasional leaden lurching stomach. Weeee...oh no no no....weee! But it will be good, all in all. We'll learn a lot, explore new things, and figure out everything else. Mostly we feel upbeat**, encouraged, and calm in the knowledge that no matter what, we have each other. That will stay the same.

. . .

*L posted this about it on her blog.

** How can you not feel upbeat about Australia when you listen to this?

Crikey: A year with two springs

We have some pretty crazy news. It's part of why I've been so radio silent around here; mum was the word and it is nigh to impossible for me to keep these kinds of things to myself. 

We are stunned/anxious/giddy to announce that we are moving to Australia! G has the opportunity to head up legal there for his company and it's just too tempting an adventure for us to turn down*. We'll live in the capital, Canberra, a small city about 3 hours south of Sydney and are signing the final papers this week (so, truth in advertising, it's more like a 98% chance at this point but I can't hold back any longer).  

We definitely have mixed feelings about leaving our good life here: people, neighborhood, & schools we know and love dearly. It feels a bit like we're playing Let's Make a Deal and we have a lovely, known option of our current life revealed by Door #1 and a mysterious, unknown option behind door #2. We say "Chuck, we'll take our chances with Door #2!" and the audience kind of gasps. Time will tell.

At the moment we're mostly focusing on the good parts of this change: Hosting visitors who will have to tarry a good long while after traveling all that way. Having two springs this year. Exploring a part of the world we've not seen. Warm, sunny Christmases. Possible Aussie twangs in our speech. Saying "shrimp on the barbie" and "crikey" and "g'day mates." Taking up surfing (a bit of a stretch, since we're an hour inland).  No US presidential election commercials on tv. Oh, and two words: Hugh Jackman.

As you can imagine, our heads are spinning a bit at this point. My lists keep multiplying and having lists of their own. This is what we've figured out so far: G will head there in early June and we'll join him by September. He'll come home in between to help with the move and we'll visit family&friends in the west. Or such is the ideal plan at this point, subject to the tinkerings and hammerings life is sure to contribute to it. 

More soon, mates.

. . .

*You might remember that we thought we might go a few years ago. This time 'round they approached G about it and the process moved (mercifully) quite quickly in the last few weeks. 

My apron strings, a status report

These kids just keep going and coming back and leaving again. At this rate my proverbial apron strings are going to be all in tatters with all the stretching and untying and retying. This summer feels like a huge turning point in our family with the kids trying their beautiful new wings (new metaphor alert!) and us, their parents, waving goodbye and smiling and jumping up and down and blinking back tears.

Or I might be a little bit lonely and melancholy today.

I put Maddy on the train early this morning so she could trek up to Maine to join her friend and friend's family at their lake house for the weekend. Lauren blips in and out between work and socializing, already acclimating herself to reduced family contact. Sam is at yonder camp and must be having a blast because he hasn't written us even once, although I did email the director (helicopter mom hover powers activate!) and he assured me Sam is doing great. 

Yonder camp is pretty wonderful, though. He's at Birch Creek Service Ranch in Utah, a program for good kids to learn more about service and community and have lots of outdoor fun. It's based on the philosophy of one of my heroes, Lowell Bennion, and his creed:

Learn to like what doesn't cost much

Learn to like reading, conversation, music.

Learn to like plain food, plain service, plain cooking.

Learn to like fields, trees, brooks, hiking, rowing, climbing hills.

Learn to like people, even though some of them may be different   . . . different from you.

Learn to like to work and enjoy the satisfaction doing your job as well as it can be done.

Learn to like the song of birds, the companionship of dogs.

Learn to like gardening, puttering around the house, 

and fixing things.

Learn to like the sunrise and sunset, the beating of rain on the roof and windows, and the gentle fall of snow on a winter day.

Learn to keep your wants simple and refuse to be controlled by the likes and dislikes of others.

(Of course, you don't have to go to a 3-week camp to learn these things. But keep in mind he has no brothers. He's the only 12-13 year old boy at church. He needs some intensive boy time.) The boys spend the first half of every day doing service in the surrounding community of ranches and farms, the afternoons doing camp fun, and the evenings in concerts and discussions and group activities, with some backpacking trips thrown in along the way.  Ever since our friend's son went a few years ago and raved about it we've kept it in mind for Sam.  So we are thrilled he's able to go, too.  It would be even better if he WROTE US A LETTER so we knew it was as awesome as we hoped. But whatever. My letters to him are increasingly pleading threatening inviting so I think he'll get the message sometime along the way.

My mothering years are galloping by at breakneck pace.  I'd love to peek in on our years of afternoon summer naps and swim diapers and sticky popsicle faces and towel bundled babies on my lap and 5:00 bathtime. Just to visit. Maybe linger. It's true: the days are long but the years are short. I used to roll my eyes at it but turns out they knew what they were talking about.

Now remind me: why didn't I have more kids? Just kidding. Kinda. 

. . .

Photo via

En route

Today Lauren and I are flying west to visit some of the colleges that are on her short list. She's been admitted (yay + whew!) but now it's time to decide. We'll be at BYU tomorrow, USU on Friday for their A-Day for admitted students, and Westminster in between. All of the schools have strengths (including some scholarships, hooray) so she's hoping to get a good feel for each and be drawn to one in particular so she can make a choice. 

You know what's more difficult than making this kind of decision? Watching your very own child make this kind of decision!  I know she's en route to the rest of her life and it will be wonderful to watch and support her but it's humbling watching her eye the first huge decision she's making for herself, entirely. Is a big flashing arrow sign for her too much to ask?

How did you (or your kids) choose? As far as I remember, I was pretty haphazard and things worked okay in the end. Or at least that's what I'm reminding myself.

. . .

In other news, change must be in the air because yesterday I cut 10 inches from my hair (& was thrilled that Pantene can use it for their program for cancer patients). Gone! I've re-discovered that I'm a short hair kind of gal and, as much as I enjoyed my foray into the world of long flowing locks (which on me became long limp tangled locks), I feel much more like myself now. Basically, I think it comes down to the fact that I'm more spunky than sultry. I grinned as soon as she cut off the ponytail. So light and free! Hats off to Donna, my new hairstylist extraordinaire. Here are the inspiration photos and results:

for an edgier look

for calmer days

and here's the result, via webcam. I maintain that I look like muppet, especially right around the mouth