A Little Bragging

Well, it's that time of year again. The kids win some major awards. Mom graduates again. You know the drill in this house. We're all just a bunch of overachievers.

Hayden

Hayden has become quite an impressive vocalist. We had no idea he had developed this talent until he came to us in the third grade and said, "I'm gonna be in the talent show!" "Oh, really? What's your talent?" "I'm going to sing." "Really? That'll be interesting." And then he belted out this country song (of all things... Let's just say that was totally his own doing) and sounded like a total pro! Since then, he has put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears in to honing his craft. We even had a lady in our ward who sings professionally for movies and T.V. approach us to see if we were interested in getting him active in Hollywood for voice-overs, etc.

But the biggest accomplishment to date was his participation in a scholarship program through the Kiwanis Club. Out of all the middle schoolers in all the choirs in all the schools, he placed fifth in the district. It was one of those moments that had me so engrossed, I completely forgot to press record on the camera. The payoff was that I was so enraptured, I was brought to tears by his surprisingly mature voice, but I didn't get to show the world this amazing performance. So during the Spring concert, I made sure I got his solo performance from the "Newsies" medley. He's the little guy with the microphone that disappears as soon as everybody else stands up.

Nathan

Nathan has been in one of the best high school music programs on the planet, in my humble opinion. At his Spring pops concert, the various orchestras played the scores from movies like Harry Potter, Spiderman, Avatar, and Star Wars. We even got visited by Darth Vader and his Imperial Storm Trooper guards. It was awesome! Every one of the upper level orchestras could play professionally. We are sad that Nathan will not have a chance to build on that experience in public school any more. If we could commute him to SAMOHI just for the music program after we move, it would almost be worth it. I don't think there are any orchestra programs at the schools in Santa Rosa. We'll have to look privately if he is to continue fostering this growing talent.

At the last performance, the teachers honored two or three members from each of the orchestra groups. As they announced the winner for the Strings Orchestra (the beginning level group that Nathan is in), the teacher said, "This violinist is such a hard worker. He's the first to open his violin case when he gets to class. He practices at school, at home, everywhere!" And Wayne and I both silently thought to ourselves, "Well, it can't be Nathan." "...And the recipient for outstanding musician is Nathaniel Van Cleave." *applause, applause* ...and then Wayne, in his astonishment shouts an audible, "WHAT?!?" Yeah. We're such good parents. We totally believe in our kids' abilities.

Shana

And as for me, I had a fake graduation last week. It was all the pomp and circumstance of a real graduation, but the kicker here was that I had to go back to work the next day. When I opened my "diploma," it was blank inside. They're holding it ransom for another month and a half of work to ensure that the patients don't suffer while we go through the transition to the incoming class. But it was lots of fun to see all the family and enjoy their amazing support. My mom was crying like she did at my wedding, she was so proud. Chad was cheering so loud, I was considered the most popular graduate by my peers. (People thought I had brought an entire entourage, and 14 spectators was kind of a lot... But really, it was just that Chad is VERY loud! It was hilarious and absolutely made my day.)

Then we went to the Cheesecake Factory to be gluttons. And that was where I got teared up as I looked around the table at my dearest supporters: Wayne, who essentially gave up his career for the advancement of mine, Nathan, who has shared his birthday weekend with me every two or three years as I hog the glory for yet another commencement, and Hayden, who has no memory of his Mom outside of her studies. I recalled going in to a counselor at Palomar College as I approached the time to transfer to a four year university. As she looked at my GPA, she said, "So where do you want to go? Harvard? Stanford? You could pretty much have your pick." When I told her I had a family to consider and was hoping to go on to pediatric dentistry, she changed her tune. "Well, with a family, you can't do that! That's, like, another 10 years of school." But I knew with my cheering section, I could. AND I did it in, like, another 8 years of school. So take that, Mrs. Naysayer Palomar College Counselor Woman. *insert raspberry noise here* So, thanks to these folks (picture below) and a host of other wonderful supporters, I am nearing the end of a decade of higher education.

Woo Hoo!!!

Wayne

While he doesn't get his own graduation or awards ceremony, his biggest achievement is surviving his overachieving family and making all of this possible. I joke and say he is the wind beneath my wings (because he absolutely despises that song), but it's true. I couldn't have done any of this without you. Well, maybe I could have, but my kids would be juvenile delinquents by now. Thank you for keeping them out of jail, kicking their butts when they needed it, and kissing their boo-boos (in a very manly way, of course) when I couldn't. You have spent most of this past decade doing my favorite job, and you've done wonderfully. Our boys are very lucky that they got the chance to be brought up by a very devoted Dad during their formative years. I love you so much, Baby!

Excuses! Excuses!

Oh, how I wish I had an amazing excuse as to why I have not been posting. I can't just say it's all Facebook's fault. I've used that excuse before. I wish I could say any or all of the following to lend validity to my blogging suckiness:

1. I've been sunbathing in Aruba for the past couple of months and have soooooo many pictures to upload, I just don't know where to begin.
2. Sorry. This press junket for my latest Oscar nominated movie has just sucked the life out of me. Between the premiers and the fittings for the Red Carpet, I just haven't had time these days.
   
3. I haven't been able to blog because I have been spending so much time exercising, feeding the homeless, adopting Hatian refugees, and cleaning my house. I don't know what's gotten into me these days, but if I keep it up, I may be nominated for sainthood. Did I mention that Brad and Angelina were so impressed, they gave me one of their kids? It was getting to be too much for them, but they thought I could handle it.

No. Not me. Here's the state of things since December 2009 in the real world:

1. Nathan's tonsils no longer exist.
2. Wayne's mom is waiting in Salt Lake to go on her mission to New Zealand.
3. My dad and I are working out the details for me to start work in the Santa Rosa practice this August.
4. Hayden is one of the finalists for a singing competition that I didn't even know he had entered, but may win a scholarship if he proceeds.
5. Tuba practice still sounds a little like a dying cow, violin practice similar to a dying cat.
6. It's 80 degrees in February in Santa Monica.
7. My brother Scott is going to Afghanistan.
8. My other brother Scott resurfaced on Facebook.
   
9. Wayne celebrated the Saints' win in the Superbowl. He has loved them since he was a kid and they generally have sucked for most of that time. It was a thing of beauty to watch them redeem themselves in their first Superbowl ever.
   
10. I spent way too much time on Facebook and Hulu.
11. Oodles of my time is being spent as a wonderful role model for my children...
    

l

So that's it. Just imagine how bad at blogging I will be when I finally get that Sainthood. You'll be luck to hear from me bi-annually. Till then, I'll try to be a little better.

When It Rains, It Pours (and sometimes it pours out of places it oughtn't)

I feel badly for my sister-in-law, who wrote a gut-wrenching expose about the "Cough Syrup Incident of '09" on her blog. In it, she describes the frustrations that go along with trying to convince toddlers to partake of nasty medicines to help them feel better, but having to convince their heightened gustatory senses that if they just muscle past that first HORRID taste, everything will be A-Okay. It sucks.

I'm writing this post in an effort to commiserate with her as I describe the wretched "Diarrhea Incident of '96." If you are squeamish about bodily functions, turn back now... Do not pass Go... Run for the hills... You are advised not to proceed. But, if laughing at someone's abject misery, despite the mention of excrement at multiple moments throughout the telling of the story, join me in my humiliation and feel free to laugh at my expense.


It all goes back to the days of Nathan as a toddler.

He was a cute little guy, but certainly had strong opinions about things. When he was feeling crappy, he was particularly stubborn. When he was about one and a half years old, we were working as assistant managers at Midway Estates, and he had caught a particularly virulent flu bug that winter--the symptoms of which involved non-stop liquid poop that would shoot violently out of his bum with hurricane force. Did I mention, it would not stop? Not for anything in the world. I tried the B.R.A.T diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) to try to plug him up. I tried to keep him from moving, because if he was jostled at all, "SPLOOSH!" out shot the next detonation. Over the course of the afternoon and into the evening, he had systematically exploded his intestinal contents on every stitch of clothing he owned, every piece of clothing I owned, every piece of bedding, every towel, gone through an entire case of diapers, had a butt as red as a baboon's, and was in dire need of fluids. And did I mention, he didn't want to drink any fluids because he was stubborn and cranky. A frantic call to the pediatrician that night assured me that if I couldn't get so many cc's of clear liquids into my son by morning, he was destined for the E.R.

So all night long, I kept him out on the couch (with what really amounted to a tarp underneath him), and woke him up every 15 minutes to give him droppers-full of water. He hated me, but I knew it was for his own good. I stayed up with him the entire night, and in between hydrating the poor kid, I did laundry ALL NIGHT LONG. From sundown to sunrise, I just kept those machines full... and since I had the key to the laundry room, I was able to do upwards of 8 loads at a time.

By the time the sun came up, I had filled my entire living room floor with a Matterhorn-sized heap of clean laundry, and I had successfully gotten enough fluids into my poor dehydrated son to stave off the dreaded hospital visit. An ounce here, an ounce there, and Nathan was miraculously chipper and agreeable. He had apparently forgiven me for disturbing his sleep. That morning, his little head perked up from the waterproof bedding on the couch, he flashed his winning smile, and climbed down from his perch... right over to the pile of warm, inviting laundry, where he toddled right to the very peak of clean, fresh linens... where his bowels unleashed their final paroxysm on top of the ENTIRE heap in one, final, projectile explosion...

...And I cried. I cried huge, raking sobs. I buried my face in the floor and could not stop for an indeterminate amount of time. Pleading prayers for God's tender mercies poured from my soul. And then I looked at my bewildered little boy, with foul-smelling excrement oozing down his thighs, diaper rash burning beneath his Pampers... And then I wiped away my tears, put on the bravest face I could muster, and started all over again.

So, here's to you, Diana... and to all the mothers out there who can share your misery in one way or another. We feel your pain. I hope Avery feels better soon!

Tuba-riffic!

Tonight was Hayden's tuba debut. We adopted this modest brass instrument into the family in September. We've tried shoving pillows down the bell to suppress its mighty resonating din, but The Tuba's very determined master has declared, "It changes the sound." (Ummmmmm. I hate to tell you this, Kiddo, but that's kind of the point. In this case change=bearable volume.) So, in order to spare the neighbors from bleeding eardrums and psychological breakdowns, Hayden has requested to stay late after school and rehearse afterward in the band room on a regular basis. Therefore, we had no idea what sort of noises would be emitted from his new friend tonight. Would it sound like a dying bull as it had just a few short months ago? Would he even be able to hoist it into place? It's almost bigger than he is!

Well, there were no dying animal noises... An occasional squawk like somebody stepping on a farm animal's tail, but not nearly as bad as I suspected. He did a great job, and it was one of the least painful Middle School band concerts I've ever attended.
Here he is in all his glory:

Can you see the one I was keeping my eye on? See him way back there in the back row? Barely able to see over the music stand?


And, yes... He was actually quite adept at carrying it, despite the obvious size discrepancy.

Congrats, Buddy!

To The Great Ones of Parenting

For those of you that don't know, my children are geniuses... At least that's what the grandparents think.

Well, I thought so too when my Kindergartener started reading my Biology textbooks and could succinctly explain to me what the differences between polyp and sessile cnidarians were. Or when Nathan spelled the words "myocardial infarction" a few months after he got bored with "Hop on Pop."

People used to say, "How did you do it?" "How come you have such miraculously intelligent children?" I would chuckle silently to myself because I knew the real secret: They liked T.V. and poop jokes.

I did read to my kids a lot. But I also found other teachers to help me out. For instance, I would often let Steve from "Blue's Clues" read to the kids via Closed Captioning. When you live in a small apartment, and your husband is hard of hearing, those annoying little words that scroll across the screen when you're watching a loud movie can be quite handy. They are also handy when your toddler is plopped down in front of The Tube while Mommy is performing her slumlord duties. I didn't really think anything of it, until one day Nathan said, "Mommy, can you turn the words off the T.V.? I can't stop reading them and I want to watch the show." "Why, of course not, Nathan. They are doing my job for me so I can artfully neglect you while I collect rent."

The other mechanism by which I fed my kids' intellect (can you call it that?) is by letting them read as many "Captain Underpants" books as they could get their little paws on. Earlier tonight, they were reminiscing about the amazing exploits of Dav Pilke's characters: "Do you remember the time when Deputy Doo Doo turned into poo and then somebody stepped on him and he was flat?" *giggle, giggle, giggle* "Do you remember when he got into a nuclear power plant and mutated into a giant turd? and then Captain Underpants saved the day by attacking him with toilet paper?" *hee hee hee*
Emily Dickinson, eat your heart out.

So, yes... My kids are very smart. But I owe a big debt of gratitude to the great ones that aided me in my parenting. Thank you, Super Diaper Baby and Deputy Doo Doo. Thank you, Blue and Steve. May my children carry on your legacy throughout the remainder of their lives.

They're doing a pretty good job already, doncha think?

As the Summer Fades

So now that my tan is fading (can you really call it a tan if it started out as a crispy fried red burn and then faded to something with some vague semblance of tan lines?), I figure I should wade through all the pictures I been accumulating on my camera card over the summer. Here's what we've been up to lately...

There have been lots of parties...
This is what all the kids are wearing these days...
At least that's what Nathan tells me.

Hayden helped vanquish the "Swine Flu" pig-shaped pinata.

At Wayne's cousin Hayley's wedding.

And reunions...
An impromptu 19 year cheerleader reunion in Manhattan Beach.

Dad came down to the annual UCLA Pedo Alumni Day.
After battling parallel universe Ruby's Diners, we finally met up with Amy, Jeff and Caleb for a fun dinner in Orange County.

And sendoffs...
My baby brother Scott shipped out to Iraq for his first tour in the Marines.
We miss you!

Family Love Fests...
The boys at a resident picnic in Mar Vista park. They couldn't contain the love!

Bergers are in the HOUSE!


Maiko and Scott Brower (showing his good side),
and my Sisters Remy and Amy, plus a sulking Caleb.

Jeanette and Jan... Always making me see double.

My beautiful niece Ellie at Hayley's wedding.


And Family brawls...
A fictitious, but very plausible explanation for Brower's mangled face
(which he scraped up the night before by missing a step.)

Work...

It has been Hayden's duty to do the dishes every night this summer.
This is how he stays motivated.

How I spend most of my days, whether the weather is nice or not.

Play...
The pool in Santa Rosa...I took about 60 pictures,
and believe it or not THIS is the most normal looking one!

Scofield lake. That's Wayne on the right. Hee hee hee!

Baseball on the beach in Malibu.

Speed wobbles in Huntington Beach with Caleb and Jeff.

Relaxation...
Chillaxin' in Manhattan.



And being ridiculously good looking.




Summer 2009 was a great one!
Now go back to school, kids!!!

Mom, DDS

Earlier this summer, Nathan celebrated a monumental occasion. After 10 months of ortho, the braces came off. I know, I know... All of you suckers out there who suffered through 4 years of wires and bands can whine all you want, but your dentist just didn't have the mad skillz that Nathan's did. (Har har har.) Wayne was on hand to capture the torture... I mean treatment, as we took all kinds of impressions for study models and retainers, etc.

It all started out fine and dandy.
...Gave him a little alginate facial as a perk.

Hayden wanted in on the action, too.

Big baby.

I look like I'm having WAAAAAY too much fun at his expense, don't I?

Capture that vestibule!

You can run...

But ya can't hide.

He certainly liked the end result.

Now what else can I do to them for practice? Anybody up for some wisdom tooth extractions?

How to Have the Perfect Weekend

Wake your kids up at 4:00 in the morning by flashing a camera in their faces.









Escape L.A. traffic and enjoy the sunrise in the Mojave Desert.Exert your influence as a parent by allowing your children to rock out to questionable music.



After the 12 hour car ride, release all of your pent up energy by seeing how many cousins it would take to trample Uncle Chad.

Enjoy the estrogen while you can. Read lots of books and sing songs with little girls who enjoy princesses and who don't make sound effects at the dinner table... Unless you have just discovered that burping at the dinner table is considered funny and then do it 6000 times (Avery... I'm looking in your direction, though I noticed you are not in this picture.)

Be sure you are looking fabulous at all times. Maybe a kind and wonderful auntie could paint your nails. Be sure you show them to everyone in your nearby vicinity any time they look your direction.
Caravan up to a gorgeous, semi-private lake 7500 feet above sea level during perfect weather conditions and let the children loose on the great outdoors.

Dig in perfectly soft sandy shores and make sand castles... But if you're Hayden, and your neighboring sand castle is going to be built by Uncle Chad, you must first arm yourself with an arsenal of dirt balls to protect your beachfront property.

Head to the water and enjoy some tubing and smack talk.

Make sure your tube is not "too round..." Just ask Diana.
Find someone to hold on to and HIT IT!
Make sure your tongue is working properly, as this is key to your success on the water.
Enjoy the view.

Gloat.
Gloat some more and laugh a lot.

Relax with some great friends who happen to be related to you.
Hang on tight to cute babies dressed up in flotation devices that look like oversized cocoons.

Soak in a nice warm tub, because you are dirty and sore from one of the best weekends EVER!
As you head out the door, force the children to take one last picture and make them pretend to be enjoying it. You can accomplish this by encouraging them to say, "POOPIES!"

Don't forget the other fun events not pictured:

• Tell silly stories and play games around the camp fire. Roast marshmallows while injecting the phrase "That's what she said!" as many times as is humanly possible into polite conversation.
• Make a really embarrassing attempt at playing badminton. Blame it on your defective racket when you can't hit the birdie over the net.
• Freak out all unsuspecting parents in the house by playing a video of a temper tantrum while checking out facebook in the other room.
• Listen to hymns blasting over the loudspeakers of the "Hobby Lobby" on a Saturday night.
  
• Eat jello salad!

Thanks for the frickin' AWESOME weekend, Diana and Andy!!!!