The First Day of the Rest of Her Life

I didn't feel old on my last birthday. I turned 28 and I felt just fine. But 20 days later when Seara turned 5, it hit me.  I'm getting old. And my baby is growing up.

Five year old birthday girl!

 

I just dropped Seara off for her first day of Kindergarten.

I'm not so sure how I feel about this.

Seara slept like a rock last night.  I tossed and turned with all sorts of nightmares.

This morning Seara wasn't nervous at all.  While we were waiting in line outside I asked her how she felt. "Good.  Happy."  "Are you excited?"  "Yeah."  Not me, sweetheart.  I'm freaking out.  I'm super nervous.  I'm not ready for this.  I'm not ready to let someone else take my baby.  I'm not ready for mean kids and teach-new-words kids.  I'm not ready to give up my sleeping in until the kids wake.  I'm not ready for schedules that interfere with our freedom.

Seara didn't even turn around as she walked away.  But as we drove off I couldn't help but feel like turning around, scooping her up, and telling her teacher, "Thank you, but we pass.  I'm taking her back home."  Apparently I wasn't the only one worried about leaving her, either.  Enoch kept asking, "Where Seara go?  Seara get in her chair.  Go get Seara.  Seara go back to Liam's house."

But off she is.  And here I sit.  Missing her like crazy.  And worrying even more.

the Summer of Cousins

As a kid I pretty bummed that I only had one cousin my age.  I was thrilled the day that I realized that since I was the 4th of 8, my kids were destined to have lots of cousins their ages.  True to form, Seara had two girl cousins born just after she was.  Woohoo!  Unfortunately, no one got the memo about having babies at the same time as Elijah or Enoch.  Their closest cousins are either about a year older or a year younger than they are.  Sorry boys!  Despite that, my kids are definitely not lacking in the cousin category, and they had loads of fun with them this summer!
Wheeler Farm

Alex, Hallie, Liam, (Savanna missing), Maggie, Ethan, Seara, (Makenna missing), Gabi, Elijah, Ami, Enoch, Ceci, (Hamilton missing)

Baby Hamilton
My sister Lissa decided that since everyone was going to be in Utah on the 4th of July, she might as well have her baby on the 2nd.  We were grateful. ;)

 A portrait I drew while we waited (outside) for the baby to be born.

Thank heavens we don't rely on my artistic ability for our sustenance!

None of us were sick, we were just playing 'doctor'

Touching a baby is veeeeery exciting

Forth of July

(we actually went to this firework show on the 3rd because the 4th was the Sabbath)

 

Veteran's Memorial Pool

Notice how I used kids to cover myself up?  I'm pretty witty.

Temple Square

Family Cabin
We spent one weekend at the cabin, but apparently I didn't take pictures.  My sis'n'law Lyndi snapped this one of all of us when we floated the Provo, though.

Now, if only all the cousins lived here close, rather than in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Nebraska!

the Samae Show

You've probably never wondered why my blog is called The Samae Show, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It was Sunday, May 9, 2004. Sam and I had known each other exactly one week.  In fact, our first date was two days earlier. That night we had ward prayer in this building:

So there we were, chatting away with my friend Heidi, and somehow we just hit it off.  One witticism after another, building off each other's jokes, picking up where the other left off.  It was like we had rehearsed. Heidi watched us amusingly and then commented, "You guys sound like you're on tv. It's 'The Samuel and Janae Show'!"

We liked the sound of it. So three years later when I started my blog, I called it The Samuel and Janae Show. And over time it shortened to The Samae Show.

There you go. A random factoid for your useless information file.

the Low Down on Timp Caves

 
So, what do you think of Timp Caves?

ENOCH: Cave! Up!

ELIJAH: Um, dirty and, um, pink.

SEARA: Scary and cold! 

JANAE: They're spectacular! Where else can you walk through a half mile of interconnected caves? Plus, you never feel claustrophobic. (This coming from the gal who gets claustrophobic in turtlenecks. Spelunking is my enemy.) But let me tell you, 4 miles* of hiking+1100 ft elevation gain+90 degree weather+fasting= EXHAUSTION.

SAMUEL: I've only ever been inside one other cave before, but I thought these caves were awesome. The "heart" formation was my favorite. The tour was interesting and lasted just the right amount of time. (One thing Janae might not have mentioned: if you have to carry an Enoch-sized child through the caves, know that you have to do a lot of crouching, and crouching with a child in your arms isn't as easy as you think—especially when you and your child aren't supposed to touch any of the formations to either side of you. That part can be a little bit of a workout! :)

*It's 1 1/2 miles to the cave, 1/2 mile through them, and 1 1/2 miles down. Add that to the forever-away parking, and I'm guesstimating it was near 4 miles. We took it slow and the kids did fine.

the Brothers Ricks

Joe (23), Sam (28), Paul (26)

Sam is the oldest of five kids; two brothers just below him and two baby sisters (20 & 18). I'm not sure what it is about his brothers, but whenever we are with them, Sam cannot stop laughing. He spends half his time bright red, struggling to get enough oxygen. His laugh is raised about 30 pitches so it resembles a child squeaking. And when he talks he sounds like a soprano--higher than I've been able to talk since I was, oh, about five. That's just what brothers do to ya.

I really love to hear Sam laugh like that. Mostly so I can laugh at him. Cuz he just looks and sounds super funny. So I concocted a plan. A Ricks Bro Reunion. At my parents cabin. For an entire weekend. Paul lives here in Sandy, but Joe and Paige had to fly in from Tucson. I think it was worth it. :)

Paul & Steph, Sam & kids, Paige & Joe

the only way to get the kids to look at the camera: have them stick out their tongues

The token Janae shot. I try to be in at least one picture each
event. Of course, I'm doing my traditional neck-tendon thing.

So now I'm supposed to say something to end this post. Either a comment towards the people in the post ("happy birthday," "thanks guys," etc.) or something witty (like a funny comment or a surprising one-liner). But, I can't think of anything. So I'm just going to end it.

Like this.

Quarterly?

Once upon a time I used to make movies of my kids every month. In fact, I did it for three straight years (January 2007-December 2009). But this year I felt lazy. So I didn't make a movie in January. Or February. Or March. By April I was feeling guilty, so I made a movie of the first three months all together. Frankly, it was so much easier to do three months at a time! So I'm thinking I'm going to start making my movies quarterly. Any objections?

Playing with the Camera

Samuel has been playing around with the Art Institute's really nice cameras lately.  These are some of the shots he's gotten.  Sure makes us want a nice camera!  (Except, who knew I had so many freckles?!  You can't even see that many in real life!)

Y2K Reunion

20 hours before the reunion - My face decides to enter Civil War. I'm gonna need a lot of makeup to cover this stuff up.

10 hours before the reunion - Perfect timing. The monthly. White shorts are a definite no-no. Wouldn't that be dramatic irony if I spent all of high school worried about humiliating myself but never really doing it, only to go to my 10-year reunion completely confident and end up mortified.

9 hours before the reunion - I mull it over and decide to risk it. I'm wearing the white shorts anyway. Got my fingers crossed.

7 hours before the reunion - Can't wait to see what he tells the babysitter tonight ...

Elijah: [melancholy tone] My other mom died.
me: Really?
Elijah: Yeah. She died at our house.
me: Oh.
Elijah: Her name was Casey.
me: Casey?
Elijah: Yeah. I miss her.
me: I bet.
Elijah: My other dad died before my mom did.
me: So your parents now adopted you?
Elijah: Yeah. They adopted me.
me: How old were you?
Elijah: 16.

5 hours before the reunion - I'm nervous. I momentarily consider asking Sam for a blessing but ultimately decide against it. When I tell him about that, his look of bewilderment confirms my conclusion: it was a dumb idea.

3 hours before the reunion - I start my hair. I'm deciding between curly and straight. I decide against curly because I know it will go flat and look dumb. But when I do it my straight hair ends up too curly, so now I want it to go flat. It would have flattened if I didn't want it to, but now that I'm hoping for it I know it won't happen.

1 hour before the reunion - Things are in place. I'm going with my friend Krishele - I need moral support. Krishele lived up the street from me from 4th grade through high school. And once we were married we were neighbors at BYU. Sam and Jason are both glad for the arrangement because now they'll each have a friend to hang out with.

...............................................................................................................................

You know those days you go to the grocery store, and you're looking all blah and feeling all blah and hoping to get in and out invisibly? But then you see someone across the way that you know. And if you keep going on your current trajectory, you are going to run into them. But they haven't seen you yet. So you do the only logical thing ... you quickly turn down the nearest aisle and jet off, barely escaping the awkwardness.

Well, that's how I felt tonight. Except that there were two hundred people I knew, and no aisle to disappear on. The reunion was just as awkward as I expected. ("Hey..." "Hey..." "So what have you been up to the last 10 years?" "School. Family. Work." "Yeah me too." ".........." "Well, it was nice talking to you...") But frankly, it wasn't nearly as fun as I hoped. I got myself all worked up for nothing. But at least I looked good doing it. :)

Freaking Out

Okay. I'm freaking out. My 10 year high school reunion is this weekend. I've been trying not to think about it. I don't know why I'm going. Quite frankly, it's making me sick.

You know how when you go back home and see your siblings, you all kind of revert back to your childhood selves? Or how when you see an ex-boyfriend after years and years you still get a sick feeling in your stomach? Apparently thinking about high school makes me revert back to my paranoid, self-conscious self. I wasn't shy, but I worried all the time about what people thought of me (a pretty typical teenage emotion). The thought of being rejected was petrifying. I just knew that if I showed any sign of weakness or imperfection, everyone would hate me. For example:

• In the very beginning of 8th grade I discovered that I hated my legs. So from then on - for the next five years of middle school and high school - I never once wore shorts to school. NEVER. Because if people knew I had ugly legs, they would hate me.

• During my junior year I saw an episode of Dharma and Greg where she wore capris. I had never seen capris before and I loved them. I searched and searched the stores until I found a pair. But capris weren't popular yet--they wouldn't be for another two years--and no one in my school wore them. (Seriously, no one. I watched meticulously.) So I never wore them to school. I was too scared to wear anything that might draw attention to itself. Because people might reject me if I wore the wrong thing.
  

• I never had groups of friends over during high school. Maybe one or two at a time under the guise of a "study group," but never big groups and never parties. My logic went like this: if I invite people and no one comes, that will mean that everyone hates me. And I was so anxious about being hated that I never dared invite people over. In fact, the only get-together that I ever helped initiate was a 17th birthday party, and the only reason I did was because one of my best friends had her birthday two days before mine and she insisted we have a party together. I figured if no one showed, that meant they hated her too, and at least we'd have each other. (As it turned out, we had nearly 100 people come. But I figured it was because they liked her. I wasn't so sure how they felt about me.)
  

I left high school half way through my senior year to be an exchange student in Bolivia. It was really hard, but it humbled me. I realized that my paranoia came from thinking only of myself. Then I went to BYU for my freshman year and had an amazingly brave and non-self-conscious roommate. Thanks to her I finally got some guts. It was absolutely liberating not to worry all the time. I felt so free.

But now I'm back to the beginning. I'm facing high school all over again. And I'm freaking out.

I'm not bringing my kids, but what if people ask me about them? Should I bring a picture? Or would that be uncool/annoying? What if I don't remember people's names? And what if I'm not thin enough? I kept thinking about exercising before this. All spring and all summer. But whenever I thought about it too much, I'd find myself at Costco buying 36-packs of chocolate mousse cups. Heaven sakes, I know I look fine, but this reverting to paranoia thing is killing me!

Okay, so here's the question: What should I wear?

1. Invisible outfit. It won't draw attention to itself, so I can spend my time spying on people as a fly on the wall.
2. My most anti-high school shirt. I wouldn't have been caught dead in something so eccentric and bright (although that's what I love most about it now). The picture doesn't show the really cool braiding around the neck.
3. A happy medium. The shirt is unique, but not bright. I am wearing shorts, though, and that is super rebellious from my high school persona.
   

the Same Age

One of my favorite things about Sam is that he and I are the same age. (Actually he is 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days older than I am, but who's counting?) We did practically everything in our lives at the exact same time. We started kindergarten together. We both moved around 3rd grade (him just before, me just after) and settled into the houses that our parents still live in. We graduated from high school together and both went to the dorms at BYU. We even served our missions at the same time. (He was delayed with health problems and I went early because my parents were mission presidents.) In fact, Sam left his mission in Chile only three weeks before I arrived there after my mission.

But I think my favorite thing about being the same age is that I can make random comments like these:

• Remember when the Berlin Wall fell during 2nd grade? I was so confused - what's the big deal? It's just a wall! If it falls down, why don't you fix it?!
• Remember when Toy Story came out the summer before 8th grade? I actually made a coordinate graph of one of the little aliens for my geometry class. Yeah, I was super cool like that.
  
• Remember how big Tubthumping was during 10th grade? It was practically the unofficial theme of our Youth Conference that year. I'm not sure if that makes us really awesome or really lame.
• Remember how big the Bush v Gore fight was during our freshman year at BYU? It took me the longest time to figure out what "hanging chads" were. Apparently I was super dumb.
  
• Remember how people would scream at Americans because of the Iraqi invasion while we were on our missions? I'd always just tell them I was Canadian, and then they'd apologize profusely. People really like Canadians. They never get involved in anything. (That is a good thing, all my fellow Canucks.)

Yup. Being the same age is pretty much AWESOME.