First and Foremost

Last week, Emily started first grade (I know - my blogging is a bit delayed, but this has been quite the week). I really believed that this year would be easier than Kindergarten. After all, she was used to being at school all day and we were even able to get Emily in the classroom she went to for reading last year so she already knew her teacher. Still, the night before school started held tears, hysterics and an extensive list of fears. The tantrum ended in a declaration, "I won't go to school! I'm staying home!". Needless to say, we were dreading the next morning.

Eventually, Emily calmed down enough to get a blessing from daddy.

After an abbreviated night's sleep, Emily seemed more amenable to receiving some book learnin', which is fortunate because a Kindergarten education doesn't do much for your resume.

She was in good spirits as we walked to school.

And when she had found her chair and her supplies, she seemed ready to go. (As you can see, Mrs. Smith is an enthusiastic Pokes fan.)

In the afternoon, Emily was exhausted but happy. It's good to be getting back in the groove. We'll see if that holds true next week when Emily starts back to ballet. Whoever decided to give the kids a grace week the first week of school must have been a mom. Smart thinking, Ballerina Bob's. (Okay, so her dance studio isn't named Ballerina Bob's, but there are lots of creeps out there and this isn't a private blog).

Good job on your first week of first grade, Emily! You are indeed #1!

What I Wanted to Write

Anyone who knows me knows that holding in my temper is just about as easy for me as it is for most people to hold in a sneeze. But today I managed to do it... for awhile. I was working on a delicate operation with the mom of the grown woman who rear ended my car while my family and I were stopped in traffic. She was trying to take care of the damages out of pocket, so her daughter's insurance rates wouldn't rise. The repair costs were $600, but she offered me $400. I decided to do unto others and all that jazz, so I gave her one last offer (via email) to pay me the full $600 before I turned it in to insurance. She accepted. But for the last couple days, these angry, sarcastic words have been welled up in my throat. They must get out. So I'll jot them down here in the form of the letter I wished I could write. 

Dear Julie,

Last week, when I saw your daughter in my rear view mirror at the wheel of the brand new car you bought her, texting like mad and not paying any attention to the stopped line of traffic in front of her, I was thrilled out of my mind. You can only imagine how disappointed I have been since January, when I purchased my first new car in 11 years, that my plan hadn't yet worked. The plan seemed simple enough: stop at all red lights and wait for a scantily clad 20-something girl to rear end me. And then (this is the really devious part of my plan), I collect the $600 for repairs and run away with the money to a tropical island where I will live in luxury for the rest of my days. Finally, last Tuesday, it seemed as if those tropical island dreams were about to come true. 

Following the impact, everything continued to go according to plan. When Amanda stepped out in her cheek-bearing shorts and announced that she was in a rush to get to Victoria's Secret before her social event, I thought I'd be extra devious and not call the cops. She thought she was just getting out of a ticket. I knew better. I didn't want any coppers getting in my way of that cold, hard cash. 

When she requested that we handle the situation out of pocket so that her insurance rates wouldn't rise, I was thrilled. The quicker I got my check, the better. The plan was working perfectly. But there was one complication I couldn't foresee. That complication was you, Julie - truly my match in the art of mastermindery. You see, I had thought that any woman in  her mid-twenties and who was obviously old enough to purchase her unmentionables at Victoria's Secret, had also reached the age of financial independence from her mom. That's where I was wrong. Dead wrong.  

When you called me and questioned the estimates that cost my husband precious vacation time to obtain, I was literally shaking in my boots. Of course, the car repair guys were in on it too. Who wouldn't be for such a spectacular sum as $600? Still, I held firm. I wanted the full amount or nothing. When you requested that we call and "touch bases", I acted like there was nothing to touch bases about, but in reality, I was just afraid that my kids would blurt out something about moving to paradise while I was on the phone with you. 

Today, when I got your offer to pay me $400, I admit that I was almost beat. After all, it would have been way too hard to pick up the phone and call your insurance, who would have given me the full amount plus money for a rental car, no questions asked. You seemed to instinctively know about my fear of telephones, you clever dame. 

So, as a last-ditch effort, I'm begging you to give me $600. If you decide not to, I think maybe I'll have my mom call your insurance. Bet you didn't see that coming. 

Check. Mate.

-Rachael

So, the check is in the mail, which it wouldn't have been if the email would have read like that. In the meantime, I have decided that no, I can't have anything nice. My ride won't be fixed for another month. Until then, every time I load groceries into the back, the wound feels fresh again. 

A Rocky Weekend

Someday, either Chris or I will be famous (hint: It will probably be me. And it will probably have something to do with me doing or saying something horribly inappropriate in a very public place) and when one of us is famous, there will be a question on a game show, "When and where did Chris first court his famous (or infamous - depending on what I'm known for) muse?" The answer is on July 16th, 1999 at the worst movie ever - Wild Wild West. Yes, folks, that's thirteen years ago today.

Oddly enough, we always seem to be doing something super cool on or around our first date anniversary. We aren't one of those weird couples that celebrate it or anything. It just so happens that last year, we were on our lovely Pacific Northwest vacation and this year, we were enjoying ourselves like crazy in the beautiful Rockies... sans children (Thank you mom and dad!).

We started out our mini vacation with an aerial tram ride to the top of some mountain. Don't ask me which one. I don't know. It was part of the Rockies.

Little known fact: I am mildly afraid of heights.

Littler known fact: I seldom let my fears stand in my way.

After the tram took us three-quarters (or more likely five-sixths... or perhaps even seven-eighths) of the way up the mountain, we hiked the rest of the way to the much touted summit. Who wouldn't want to know what was at the top of the world?

I will tell you what is at the top of the world.

Chipmunks that have become fattened to a point of near immobility by the peanuts sold in the gift shop at the aerial tram terminal.

Lots of cell towers and the like.

And this mountain man.

The next day, we hit the ground running... or walking at a good, steady pace. After we realized that the hiking trails become quite crowded on a Saturday morning, we were treated to a nice long trip on foot to the trail head. We weren't too disappointed. It helped to have a nice warm-up.

Our goal was to hike up to Fern Falls and eat our lunch in the cool spray of the waterfall. I should have known something was up when I lost visual contact with the river. We were pleasantly surprised by this beautiful lake. It was a lovely sight, but not on our scheduled hiking adventure.

After backtracking over a mile of rocky terrain to the point where we made the wrong turn, we finally got on the correct path and ate our lunch in the spray of the waterfall. It was lovely. And in the end, I'm happy that we got to see Cub Lake.

All told, we hiked over 8.5 miles, 1600 feet of relief and 53 instances of extremely bad Bear Grylls impersonations, of which I was the primary offender. In my mind, that translates into a decent quantity of barbecue ribs and sweet potato fries, which, I can assure you, tasted even better after our day in the wilderness.

I've always said that I could go to Wamsutter with this guy and have a good time, but it doesn't hurt to hang out in nature's playground.

Happy 13th datin' anniversary! May I never again have to sit through a movie as terrible as Wild, Wild  West. But if I do, may it be with Chris, who makes crappy movies and getting lost in the wilderness into the best adventures of my life. I love you, Chris!

July the Fourth be With You

For most families, a trip to the happiest place on Earth the first week of summer may tend to make the rest of the summer a bit... well... anticlimactic.

Thankfully, that isn't the case for my family because my kids love a party of any kind and the 4th of July is a great opportunity for a party.

What is it about the 4th of July that makes me feel like I have to eat my own weight in grilled meats and potato salad? I'm not exactly sure, but it somewhere, deep in my heart, it just feels right to celebrate the founding of our country that way.

We celebrated with our framily (That's a new word I just coined just right now. It means friends that feel like family. It should not be confused with frenemies). 

The kids were simultaneously frightened and fascinated by the sparklers. There was more than one Harry Potter vs. lightsaber mock battle. Personally, I think Harry Potter would win over Luke Skywalker any day. He's got magic, for crying out loud. The force ain't got nothin' on Dumbledore. However, we did have to outlaw avada kedavra at one point. We run a clean establishment. (*disclaimer* none of the children here have actually seen a Harry Potter movie.)

After the kids were sparkled out, we went to the city firework display. 

I am ashamed to say that my two small children ate the vast majority of this enormous bowl of popcorn.

 Hooray for the 4th of July, our freedom, our friends and potato salad in large quantities!

Disneyland: Love is Lovlier the Second Time Around

Two years ago when we visited Disneyland, I was thinking of how great it would be when Jane was actually old enough to enjoy it. So... I'm sure you're all wondering, was it great? It was.... AWESOME!

Not that the trip didn't have its glitches. The night before we left, the camera broke, occasioning a late night trip to Wal Mart so that we could spend money we hadn't budgeted for on something we didn't know we would need. But I must say it was definitely worth it to be able to preserve our memories. The other major glitch was our cell service. We discovered what it was like for our parents to take us to Disneyland in the '80's when splitting up the kids and playing it by ear wasn't really an option. Next time, we have an elaborate plan involving long range walkie talkies.

We had a couple moments of terror...

(My Daredevil at Tower of Terror)

(Disney Jr. Live on Stage - My personal moment of terror)

(Chris' moment of terror was not caught on film, but it involves the line to Peter Pan, Jane, and bodily fluids. I'm sure you can connect the dots.)

and our occasional meltdowns

But mostly, the trip was just a huge amount of fun with the people I love most.

We discovered that Emily is more of a daredevil than ever, trying rides she hasn't before such as...

Grizzly River run... 

And Splash Mountain... 

And Indiana Jones...

(Thank you Dr. Scholls for making this moment possible by giving Emily a hand with that last half inch. It was spectacular.)

But her favorite was still Big Thunder. 

The trip almost ended in tears when we discovered BTRR was out of commission on the last day. Thankfully, it was fixed just in time and we rode it one last time literally just before leaving the park.

Jane, on the other hand, would tolerate a few roller coasters

But she still enjoyed the more mild experiences such as Small World

And the Pooh ride. 

And more Pooh ride

I must say that one of the best experiences of the trip was being able to take the whole family on Soarin', which Jane actually liked and Emily still loved. 

On one thing, the kids agreed upon: seeing characters was good fun. That's why we had a character breakfast at Storytellers:

(the only day our breakfast did not consist of cereal eaten on the hotel balcony, which worked out amazingly well)

And a character dinner at Goofy's Kitchen:

And we stood in line for 45 minutes to meet Rapunzel. 

                                  

Was it worth it? It was for Emily, so I have to say it was for me as well. 

 But of course, we had to meet her after the girls' makeover

Which was yet another thing Jane was thrilled to be old enough for this time. 

It was so much fun to see them playing at Disneyland all day dressed as princesses. My favorite? Rapunzel at Autopia. 

We were sad to leave but we are already planning our next trip in a couple years (Emily would like it nailed down to an exact date). 

Two things became apparent during this trip: This family loves Disneyland. 

And we love each other. When you put the two together, you can't help but make great memories.