WHAT NEXT?

Here's a little look back at the lovely 1999. Notice the overly blousy t-shirts, up-to-the-armpits jeans, and . . . the backdrop. Everyone pictured is still alive and well. Everyone except the backdrop.

This photo shoot took place at Veterans Park. Never again will anyone be posing on these wooden benches. Never again. Because sometime between last summer and last week, the entire structure was torn down. On my recent visit to this park, after the kids played on the playground, we decided per tradition to mosey on over to "the hill". The instant my mom and I reached the summit of the hill, I entered the Twilight Zone. My hands flew to my gaping mouth. Surely my eyes were deceiving me. I couldn't believe it. It was gone! A treasured part of my childhood was gone. A destination my own children had grown to love. In its place was a mirror image of the side of the hill that was always there. The grassy side that has always been meant for rolling down. It just looks wrong. I don't know why that stone and wood amphitheater was so fun to play in. It just was. It was the best part of Veterans Park.

First they closed my childhood Arby's, now this! I don't want to know what will be next!

Didja Know?

I'm sure I read about this in high school during the height of my Beatlemania. If I did, I forgot all about it until I read it in a magazine last month. I'm too lazy to express this in my own words, so here comes a direct quote from the special Beatles edition of Newsweek.
"In 1968, while meditating with the Maharishi in India, John Lennon was seized by a great idea. The Beatles had been looking for a third film with which to follow up the success of A Hard Day's Night and Help! How about an adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings? McCartney could play the hero, Frodo; Starr his devoted sidekick, Sam; Harrison would make a great Gandalf; and who else for the grasping Gollum but Lennon himself?"
Ha! I wonder why this project didn't pan out. Poor John. I can just imagine how bummed he was when the would-be director told him over lunch that the book was "unfilmable". I think it would have been a hideous, yet amusing, adaptation. =)

Stuff I Think About

It's getting closer to June 3rd! That's the day I'm heading to Vegas with my sisters! I don't want to wait another second! I've never been there before. It will be so fun to spend a few days away with my wonderful sisters. I am VERY much in need of this sure-to-be delightful respite.

Anyway, would you believe my 150th blog post came and went without me even realizing it? There was no jamboree, no special parade or elaborate list of 150 things. . .
It's probably just as well. ;)


I'm glad school's out. I'm ready for a break from the stacks of papers getting sent home every week, along with the endless flow of emails reminding me about all the school happenings.


I'm happy our kids each have a friend on our street to play with. Our loop doesn't have very many youngsters, but there are loads of them throughout the other parts of our neighborhood. It's nice having some separation from the packs of kids swarming about. We're close enough to them without being too close, if that makes sense. Mostly it's nice to live on a quieter street where we don't have kids constantly knocking on our door.
Cora and Oliver didn't have anyone their age near us until this winter when a family with a 4-year-old boy and a 10-year old girl moved into the house directly across the street. It was an answered prayer! Cora had been bummed all year that none of our neighbors were her age, so when we noticed the house was for sale, we hoped against all odds that someone her age would move in. It was just an extra bonus that they have a buddy for Oliver.


I made a wonderful discovery at Walmart the other day. (That is the only time I will use the words "wonderful" and "Walmart" in the same sentence.) Anyway, they carry 18-ct. bags of just banana twin pops. It's a summer miracle! That's my favorite twin pop flavor.


I like all the little birds flitting about this time of year, especially finches. They're so cute! The way a bird's noggin bobs when it struts around is endearing to me.


I often read online news articles, and I'm curious to read the comments people leave. I don't really know why. I guess I just wonder what different people think about different topics. It's shocking how mean people can be when they are just typing words on a computer. Perhaps some of the rudest people wouldn't have a problem saying such things in person, but I'd bet many of them only do because they are relatively anonymous and won't face any consequences. It's easy for people to talk trash about people they know very little (if anything) about. My point is, there's a lot of bitterness out there, and it's sad.
It really disturbs me when I notice that a couple of readers have clicked "like" on an article about someone (or many someones) getting killed in a horrific way. What the?! I have to hope that they mistakenly hit "like". I think anyone who considers a person's gruesome death entertaining should be tracked down and thoroughly evaluated.
And it's not only the bad news I read about. It just seems like most news these days is negative. Really negative.

Ryan and I took a one-evening community ed class a couple of Tuesdays ago. It was about the art of communication. It sounded interesting to me, probably because I stink at communicating effectively.
One of the first questions the instructor asked the class was, "What do you communicate to the world?" Then she added, "What do you want to communicate to the world?" She had everyone in the class come up to the front at one point or another. When it was my turn, she asked me what I thought I communicated to the world. I had no idea what to say, so I answered, "insecurity?" She seemed surprised, but I don't know why. She doesn't know me. I feel insecure most of the time, always second guessing myself and worrying what people think of me. Heaven knows I'm not good at pretending. I usually feel insecure, so isn't that what I inadvertently communicate to everyone?
I don't know how people "see" me or what impression I give. I don't think I want to know what they think. I shouldn't care what they think, should I? I know I'm going off on a tangent here, but it got me wondering just what I communicate to people.
The exuberant instructor lady reminded us that 90% of communication is nonverbal. Most of the time I have my arms crossed. It just feels comfortable to me. And it may be genetic. Get a group of McCalebs together and you'll notice they are all standing around with their arms crossed. What message does that convey? Does it make me unapproachable? I try to have a pleasant look on my face when I'm in social settings, but I don't think I do it very well. I've seen candid pictures of me looking surly when I specifically don't recall feeling that way when the photo was taken. What is the matter with me?
Is my nonverbal communication the reason I don't attract new friends? I think people are uncomfortable with my socially awkward tendencies. Like my inability to make eye contact when I attempt to have a conversation with someone. It doesn't matter where I am- at church, at family gatherings, anywhere- the problem lingers.
I have a lot of surface acquaintances, but not too many "real" friends I actually hang out with. And I could be okay with that if my insecurities didn't make me question whether anyone at all truly likes me. I start to piece things together in my mind; past interactions, experiences, deficiencies. The way people respond to me. Some days it doesn't look promising. It dawns on me that when I do get together with friends it's usually when I have initiated the gathering. I know people are busy, and I'm sure there are people who sincerely like me and enjoy my company, but part of me can't help but wonder, deep down inside, if I'm one of those people that everyone just tolerates. I hope I'm wrong. I haven't thought this way for very long. But one day the possibility of it hit me like a ton of crud. Adding stuff up in my mind, calculating it all. . . Hmmmm. . . Maybe my worst critic isn't that far off base. I mean, I feel confident in some areas, and sometimes I get to thinking I'm not too shabby. But then I start thinking too much.
By the way, I don't just sit here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for people to be my friend. I do reach outward. I do nice things for people I care about. So even though this blog post sounds like I'm completely self absorbed, I'm not. Not completely. Though I do feel a little pathetic typing all this. I apologize for it. It's just been gnawing at me. I'm not forcing anyone to read it, right? Maybe my blog is a lot like those disturbing news articles I can't keep myself from perusing. People don't want to read it, but somehow they can't help but look. I'm kind of joking, kind of not.

I like people. In fact, I love most people. Somehow I need to learn how to effectively communicate that. Maybe if I get better at communicating in general, and practice speaking in complete and relevant sentences, then people will want to talk to me. And I need to not fret so stinking much about every little thing that could possibly mean something dreadful. What can I say? I have issues.

You know how little kids have no problem running up to another unfamiliar kid and asking,
"Will you be my friend?" Somehow that approach doesn't work well between adults, and it's sort of a shame. But then again, I've never tried it. . .

Miscellaneous May

Yup. . . That's me. . . =)

I occasionally make the mistake of checking the "stats" on my "dashboard" that supposedly let me know how many "pageviews" per day I get. At least I think that's what it's calculating. It says 26 views happened yesterday. Uhhh, yeah. I'm pretty sure that's not right. Unless it's counting all the people who Google words that frequently appear in my blog. Like flowers. Candy. Sprinkles. Random. They mistakenly click on the link to "Random Shannon", take one look and realize this was definitely not what they were hoping to find. But it still counts as a pageview. I don't know how the views are being tabulated, but I think Blogger is either confused or lying . . . At least, I hope so . . . If not, I guess I'm just really skilled at leaving people speechless. And I don't mean that in a good way.

I've been working in the yard quite a bit. I like it. I'd much rather do outside work than inside work. It stays looking nice for way longer than any straightening I do indoors. I enjoy pulling weeds. It's just satisfying to me. That low ripping sound as the entire root unhinges itself from the earth. I love it when the soil is moist enough that I can pull the whole weed out. Call me crazy, but I really "dig" it.

I bought a load of flowers and planted them in pots and dirt spots around the yard. Now I'm assaulted by bursts of dazzling color nearly everywhere I turn.

I finally broke down and got us a Costco membership. That's where I got these daisies. I'm having a hard time keeping them erect. I carry them in and out of the sun and try to water them appropriately, but apparently I'm doing something wrong. The ones in the backyard look like they've had better days. It bums me out when any of my flowers wilt. Most of them are in good shape, so I'm thankful for that, but some croaked almost as soon as they were planted. =(

The first rose bud to emerge on the whole huge bush. I'm getting excited.



The flower bed at the end of the driveway. I planted in the bare spots betwixt the dead tulips and daffodils. The new beauties will hopefully flourish as the summer progresses. Well, that's what happened last year. At first they looked sparse like this, but it was a whole other story later on.

I discovered the above "dianthus clownfish" at Lowe's. I think they're just dandy with their bulbous, multi-colored blossom clusters. So pretty.


I've added dahlias (above) to my list of favorite flowers. They are so perfect! They look good enough to eat.


One of the baskets I filled with soil and happy flowers.


I had the perfect shady spot for a fuchsia plant. I've been admiring hanging baskets of these for a while, and Costco had them for several dollars less than everywhere else, so I went for one. I just hope I don't kill it.

Oliver helping me water some of my pretty flowers.



The last time I had a haircut was November 1st. Needless to say, it had become unwieldy.

Bushy around the middle and straw-like on the ends. This is the day before I went in to get it maintained.

I guess the "after" picture doesn't look way different, but she did trim it up and add some more layers to help accentuate my waves.

And I opted for highlights to mask the increasing number of white hairs appearing around front. My plan backfired. I should have stuck with the darker color after all. Now it just looks like I have tons of white hair. I've sworn off highlights from now on. Every now and again I've tried them out, but I've never been thrilled with the results. I think they just make me look older. And I don't like the streaky look on me. The gal doing my hair promised me it wouldn't be streaky. But that's how it turned out. =/


The back doesn't look too bad, but I think she could have done better on the bangs and on top. I told Cora to remind me to NEVER get highlights again. They look great on other people, but they just look wrong on me. I think my hair is done being blonde. Maybe that's why it has naturally darkened over the years. It was trying to tell me something.

Oh well. It's just hair. I should have gone with my gut and stuck with an all-over color. I'm thinking mauve for next time. To go with my complexion.


So the other day I saw the saddest thing. I'm not sure how long ago this happened. . .

My childhood Arby's. Closed. Forever.
The first one I ever went to.
The one all five of my senses fell in love with.
The one my dad always took us to when he would visit.
Dangit. =(


On a happier note, Cora had her orchestra concert on Friday the 11th. It was in conjunction with the 5th grade music program. They did a lovely job.

Earlier in the day during an assembly, Cora received a President's Education Award in recognition of outstanding academic excellence. Way to go, Cora!

Later that evening after Oliver's ninja class, he and I went to meet Ryan at his parents' house to go see The Avengers with Jackie, Eric, and Ethan. Cora and Jane stayed with Shirley since they weren't eager to see the movie. Oliver was pretty excited to go, but he ended up falling asleep not too far into it. The beginning didn't have enough superhero action to keep him interested.
I liked the movie overall. The effects were extra special, of course, but I've always had a hard time watching things (like cities) getting destroyed in movies or anywhere else. I admit, my favorite parts of the movie were Mark Ruffalo and Robert Downey Jr. =)


Okay, last thing for now. I got this kalanchoe plant just before Easter, and it's still this pretty. The blossoms were originally bright pink, but the color has somehow faded.

I adore these tiny flowers. I also adore my cute cupcake wrapper planter.


I'm glad I took the opportunity to type this all out for myself. Really, I am.

Ryan's 34th Birthday

Ryan's birthday was the first thing to happen in May (because it's on May 1).

He worked that day, so Oliver and I took some cupcakes in for him and his coworkers to snack on. I didn't have time to make them, and I figured Sugar Rush Cupcakery would produce much tastier cakes than I could, so that's where they came from. They looked delectable.

When Ryan got off work we took the kids with us out to dinner, then returned home for present time.

He got a Josh Groban piano book he'd mentioned he didn't have. And a frisbee, because he'd recently pointed out our lack of a decent one.




... Or is it actually a hat?


He also got two pairs of snazzy casual shorts and two t-shirts, because he'd been saying he needed some shorts and shirts. So, in "short", all his birthday wishes came true, and he didn't even know they were wishes.






Nice, Cora.



We were all so full from dinner that we didn't get around the "official" birthday dessert that night. It was Ryan's choice to wait until the next day, so we did. (It was just more store-bought cupcakes. Not the fancy expensive ones, just whatever I could find at Fred Meyer.)

Anyhow, I think he had a nice day once all was said and done.

Cookie Sale

May 5th was our neighborhood's annual yard sale. We didn't have a yard sale, but Jane and Emma (neighbor girl) wanted to have a cookie sale in our driveway. Since I'm a wonderful mom, I agreed to make sugar cookies for the occasion. Emma's mom made a large batch of the chocolate chip variety.


Here's a random bunch of the finished product.

I think I counted 58 total sugar cookies, and Emma's mom made 80-something of hers. I had fun making these. I should have made more, but I ran out of time. I was up until 1:00 am decorating and bagging them, and the girls dragged me out of bed just after 8 to help them get set up.

It was pretty cold that morning. We could have made a killing on cocoa, if only we'd planned appropriately.

I spent the time weeding in the front yard (nonchalantly supervising the girls), and I was pleased to overhear customers exclaiming about how cute the cookies were. =)

The cookies were sold out by about 10:00 am, and we were glad. We went inside and the girls cozied up by the fire place while I made them some hot chocolate. I have no clue who decided to hold the community yard sale the first weekend of May! Sillies.

Next year maybe I'll plan better and whip up a much larger quantity of cookies and treats. I'm gonna be filthy rich! Mwaaahahhahahaha!

Olympic sized sandbox

Ryan decided to make a sandbox in our side yard. He grew up with one in his parents' backyard, so he thought our kids should have one, too.

There is a dog run in our yard with a chain link fence, and if I have my way, we will never have a dog, so why not make use of the space?

Ryan surrounded the lower perimeter of the fence with boards, screwed them together, then he and his dad went to pick up a truck load of sand.

He did a lot of shoveling and wheelbarrowing.

For the past month or so, Ryan has been sporting a beard. Running my fingers through it one night, I told him it felt like a crotch. I do think he looks good with it, and he keeps getting comments about it at work and anywhere else he goes where people are shocked to see him with a full face of hair. I'm not sure how long he'll keep it.



It bothers me that the gas meter is surrounded by sand, and I keep fretting about it. Ryan and his dad didn't seem to think it was a problem, so I sure hope they're right!



That's a lot of sand! It's been fun so far. It's on the shady side of the house, too, so that's dandy.

Puke Patrol

Oliver didn't get to go to karate class after all today, poor kid. It's crazy how one day a kid can feel terrific, playing at the park and running to and fro- then the next, feel completely yucky. He's been sick all day, wanting to do nothing other than sleep. This morning when he woke up, he didn't want to eat, saying his tummy was hurting. Usually the first thing he asks for every day is a treat, but he didn't today. After only a few bites of breakfast, he went and got back in his bed to rest. When I got out of the shower, I checked on him, and he was asleep. A bit later when I was getting ready, I heard him crying. I went to the bonus room and he was sitting in a sad lump on the couch. He said he couldn't find me. =( Ever since then, I've been sitting with him, trying to make him as comfy as possible. He's such a sweet little guy.

When the girls got home from school, Cora jumped right in and wanted to help Oliver feel better. She asked him what he needed, brought him some ice water, and even took him and his pillows and blanket outside to lie on the trampoline, believing that fresh air would do him good. Cora and I sprawled out on either side of our little sickie until the blackness of the tramp absorbed too much sun. By then, Cora had run inside to assist Jane with something, and I moved Oliver down to the grass, since I couldn't scoot the trampoline into the shade, even with my massive biceps.

Not long after I'd spread out his bedding and situated him and myself upon it, he sat up with a big, worried frowny face. I knew it could only mean one thing, so I pulled the edge of his Thomas blanket up and helped his face to the grass beyond it. Just in the nick of time! Good thing it was mostly water. ;)

He's been sleeping most of the day, only waking to drink water and stare out the window. Now I'm stationed next to him hoping he won't need to use this bowl again. Before I brought him back inside to the couch, he asked if he could go play at a friend's house tomorrow, and I said he could if he's all better. He reasoned that if he needed to "cough" (puke) he could cough in his friend's grass. Ha! I'm sure they'd be thrilled about that.

I have a few funny things Oliver has said lately that I want to share. I was going to last night, but I ran out of time and decided to just publish the post instead of saving it to finish later.

A few weeks ago Oliver asked, "Mom, why can we never go on a plane to go on a trip?" Before I could reply, he added, "We could bring some parachutes, too!"
Can you just see us jumping out of an airliner? He thought it sounded perfectly reasonable. =)

A week or so ago, I was showing Oliver some online Marvel games. He was trying his best to keep Iron Man from getting fired upon, but the game was a little advanced for a 4-year-old. I suggested we look elsewhere for a Thomas (the tank engine) game, or something easier. I thought he'd go for that idea, but instead he yelled, "No! Thomas might get shot!"
=) I had a good laugh over that visual.

I'm stealing the last one from a Facebook post I wrote last month.

I asked Oliver if I could finish his uneaten applesauce. I thought he'd just let me, but instead he proceeded to lecture me, acting like it was the yuckiest idea ever. He was concerned about what would happen if I ate his germs. "If you eat my germs, you're gonna turn four. . . and I'm gonna turn into a girl!"
Sounds like a warped version of "Freaky Friday", and he's never even seen it.

I love my boy, and I hope he's back to his normal, fun-filled self tomorrow. So we can have a treat after breakfast.

Busy, Busy Oliver

I signed Oliver up for Little Ninjas. It's through community education. It's 8 half-hour sessions for $30. I figured this would be a good way to see if he liked karate without much commitment. A few of his cousins joined with him.
For the last while, he's been very in to good-natured "fighting". Some of that is probably thanks to Power Rangers. Some is thanks to rough-housing with Dad. Oliver can often be found kicking, punching, or making guttural sounds that might be heard during a battle, even when he's alone.

So far, there have been two class sessions. It's pretty full, like 16 kids. I have no idea why they let so many kids in. The substitute instructor said they like to keep the class size to 8 kids. Maybe they should have thought about that before they opened an already full class to the community!

The owner was out of town, so they had some helpers for the first class. There's Oliver in his Superman shirt. He's in ready position. =)


This was a little drill concerning balance.
I couldn't get very many good pictures due to a lot of different lame excuses. But Oliver seems to be loving his class. He's excited to go tomorrow.

One morning, Oliver crawled into bed with me. After I got up to do something or other, I can't recall what, I came back to find him like this...

The absolute picture of preciousness. . . And no, he's not pretending to sleep.

Here he is in one of his latest favorite outfits.
He has the cutest arms when he's wearing a muscle shirt. It's hard to see, but he also has a battery operated Batman utility belt on. And don't you love the socks/Avengers sandals combo?

Progress report

I decided it was a silly idea to make my bedtime goal later than it was before. So, now I've been heading to snoozeville by 11:00 on the nights I don't have a valid reason to stay up, which is most nights. With a bedtime "goal" of midnight, I knew I wouldn't be surrendering until the stroke of then, even when nothing in particular was going on. It's not that I'm not physically ready to sleep- Oh, I'm prepared to conk out at any given time, day or night. It's just that I don't like to spend my free time victimized by unsettling dreams. That, and the distance between my head hitting the pillow and when it's supposed to be getting off my pillow always seems like a tiny blip in time, no matter how long it actually stays there. The reason I like to stay up late is to bask in "the quiet after the kids". I *could* get up early instead of stay up late, but I know that won't happen.
Yes, I'm weak. Yes, I could easily sleep as much as a toddler does. I can't seem to help it. No matter when I fall asleep and when I wake up, I still feel the same. Maybe if I was guaranteed to wake up feeling refreshed by retiring at 10pm and arising at 6am, I'd do it. But If I went to bed at 10, I know I'd still yearn to sleep until 8, because that's the time I absolutely have to wake up to get the kids ready for school. My morning "voice of reason" is always stifled by my pillow. . .
I hope that making myself go to bed at 11:00 for an extended period will gradually program my body to naturally wake the heck up when morning comes.

As far as managing my anger goes, I am working on it. I swear, whenever I make the universe aware of my motive to be calmer, it adds extra frustrations to my daily routine. It's like the angels are all gathered around, setting customized booby traps in my path, watching and waiting to see how I will handle it all. For instance, I was driving one day last week, racing carefully against time and traffic, when the car in front of me seemed to be mimicking a slug. There were two chatty youths in its front seat. I could clearly see a Winnebago-worth of space between it and the car in front of them. All I needed was to accelerate a bit so I could turn into a so-close-yet-so-far-away parking lot, buy a piano book, and drive back across town to pick up the girls from school. I admit I yelled and willed them to move out of the dang way.
I think I put unnecessary stress upon myself a lot. I wouldn't get so antsy in traffic if I would learn to leave in plenty of time to get to my destination. I won't go on and on about this much more, but I will say that I'm starting to give myself more breathing room when it comes to getting places. I need to stop getting mad and blaming other people for my own poor planning and tardiness.

The exercise goal is going just fine. I even went jogging once for a change. I'm sure millions of people were motivated to the max after reading about my monumental 2-lb. weight loss. Well, probably more like one in a million people.

The "at least one scripture a day" goal is going smoothly, along with the other couple of things I half-mentioned in my last cricket-inducing post. =)