Identity Crisis

First, let's enjoy the adorableness of this kid. This is three-year-old Shane camping on our stair landing. Such an imagination (that painted fish roasting on the fire--an older sibling's art project he snatched from the Gale Gallery) and that cute little smile!

Those simple, care-free days.

Now fast forward to this morning:

Me: (Gently prodding Nagging) Did you get the information for your project? How about the seminary reading you were going to do? Oh, and you need to make that phone call for your Eagle Project.

Shane: Um, you need to understand that I identify as Lazy and you are not allowing a "Safe Space" for me. Those are definitely micro-aggressions. I'm going to have to call you out on your mom privilege and bigotry against who I am. 

Me: (Laughing so hysterically I can't answer)

Shane: (Indicating with his hands the area around him) I'm declaring this a nag-free zone. None of your hate speech here. You should make this a place of comfort for me to be who I am.

The Truthist Takes the ACT

Shane took the ACT today.

 Anyone who knows Shane, knows that he does not look on the bright side. He is one to assume the worst case scenario in any given situation. We've discussed this here before and through the years I have come to appreciate this outlook on life. Things are usually not worse than Shane thought they would be because he expects that things will be terrible, horrible, no good, and very bad--in spite of his Pollyanna Mother's cheerful pep talks to the contrary.

 Last night before we had family scripture and prayer, Shane and I ran through the checklist of what to bring and got everything gathered and ready. Then we discussed our timeline for getting him there early and how things would go. The past few weeks we have had ongoing chats about the experiences with the ACT of his seven older siblings and he has had input from friends as well as online advice. 

So, it looked like he was as ready as he could be.

 Well, there was one thing we did not anticipate. 

When I picked him up, he jumped in the car and I asked him how it went. He said "Do you have any kleenex in here?"

I looked over at him and saw the dried blood around his nose.

A bloody nose! 

His  nose started bleeding right as they handed out the science section. It was the last section of the test. He said he felt the bleeding start so he put his hand up to his nose to check. Sure enough, the floodgates had opened and he leaned his head back figuring it was better to let it run down his throat than out on the test. 

But he did need to look down at the test eventually, and also write in his answers.

I give him full credit here for problem solving: he used his hands and his jeans to take care of the copious amounts of blood surging out of his nose. His multi-tasking was admirable. He had to read and wipe and read and wipe...and then write and begin again. 

What other options were there? 

He realized that if he raised his hand and asked for a tissue, it would turn into a full on HAZMAT crisis. The protocol for bloody noses is, as you can imagine, to treat it like there could be a serious blood-borne disease spilling out of a student's nose. Shane knows because he's been having bloody noses at inopportune times throughout his young life.

He didn't want to get dragged out of the room and have to take the whole test over at a later date. There was a close call when the proctor walked by and he had blood on his finger. He quickly stuck it in his mouth. 

 Don't worry, he just had a physical and his blood is safe.

We had a good laugh on the way home--that was certainly a worst-case scenario he didn't anticipate! 

I wondered out loud if any blood got on the test or his answer sheet. That could raise some concerns. We concluded that the ACT took everything he had and he had the bloody hands and pants to prove it. 

The blood-stained jeans

It's Birthday Time for Shane

This cutie is celebrating a Birthday today!

The baby of the family is turning 17!

SEVENTEEN!

We had cake and ice cream Sunday while Dad was here and the missionaries were over to join in--we need some extras around here now that we are down to the last of the Mohicans.

Here are some places to look at cute pictures and to read about  our Shane.

When he was a little preschooler, we had a lot of time together when the older seven were all in school. That was our warm up for this phase of life.

Here is Baby Shane with Big Brother Scott:

 Back then, we played a game called "I Love You More Than..."

I would say, "I love you more than all of the stars in the sky." and he would try to beat that with

"I love you more than all the sand on the beach."

We would go back and forth until he declared himself the winner and ran off to play. One morning when we were snuggled up together he came up with "I love you more than all of the pyramids in ancient Egypt!" It was hard to top that one for creativity.

The toughest thing about being Shane right now is being the last one at home. The other siblings think it would have been fun to try out being an "only child" for awhile, but Shane claims it's not all it's cracked up to be. 

Here's a little gem from the back of my journal:

"Shane was having a melt-down because I wouldn't let him have something that belonged to one of the older kids. As he kicked and yelled on the floor, I said

 'Shane, you don't always get everything you want.'

 He wailed back, 'YES... I.... DO!!!!"

Well Shane, I guess you know by now that you don't get everything you want--otherwise you would have a few more siblings so you wouldn't have to be the baby.

I'm sorry that didn't work out the way you wanted.

But hey! We can play a fun round of "I Love You More Than"!

Bonus Pictures:

His scrapbook page from a Father's Day gift we made for Dad many years ago.

Sleeping in a Russian Dance pose in his beloved car bed.

Happy Birthday Shane!

I love you more than all of the pyramids in ancient Egypt!

(I know, I totally copied you. I just can't top that!)

Out of the Mouth of the Truthist

We had the missionaries over for dinner yesterday. Shane doesn't love being the last one at home and having to be social in situations where it is just me and him and other adults, but he was very mature about it and was a good host at dinner.

 After dinner they shared a spiritual thought with us. They talked about the power of the Book of Mormon for changing lives and then asked us our thoughts on that. I didn't want Shane to feel pressured to say something so I shared a few experiences and then I looked at Shane and realized he had something to say. So I said, "I kind of blathered on there--did you have something to add?"

And he said:
"When I was 11 years old, I decided to read the Book of Mormon on my own. I read at night when it was very quiet and I could really take it in. As I was reading, it felt like a prayer. Heavenly Father was speaking to me through what I was reading and I knew it was true. All of it. That is when I got my  testimony of the scriptures and prophets and everything. I could feel it and I just knew it."

I managed to not embarrass him by bawling my eyes out. 

But it was hard. 

A Conversation With the Truthist

Now that Shane is in college, I get the joy of spending quality time with him on the drive back and forth to Waterbury. It affords me the opportunity to hear his startling insights on life.
Like this conversation we had today:

Shane: "School sucks." (because he had homework and a test to study for)

Me: "It's better than being dumb."

Shane: "But if ignorance is bliss, then I am being denied my Constitutional right to the pursuit of happiness if I have to go to school."

How We Spent Our Summer Vacation

Remember when I used to keep a blog? 

Yeah....

 I begin posts

of questionable importance and then I get interrupted 

and they are left to hang out in the archives gathering dust...

Here's one:

We went to Disney World.

This was a long over-due promise kept.

When Shane and Sam were wee young-uns, we planned a family vacation to Disney World.

A few months before, we were at the Oregon coast on a very busy holiday week-end at a very crowded beach and Sam decided to find his own way to the restroom. 

(We had been momentarily distracted by Seth on a beach bike, running

 into a poor, defenseless elderly lady.) 

Sam, being the independent three-year-old that he was, didn't feel any need to ask for adult supervision to negotiate the crowd and made his way alone to the bathrooms far, far away.

Just as I was in full hysteria and Andy had recruited the life-guard to help us look for him, Sam came sauntering nonchalantly across the sand..

That was the moment I realized I could not handle eight children in a crowded amusement park.

But six seemed doable.

So, for their safety and my sanity, we got an awesome babysitter to spend the week with the little boys. And we  promised  we would take them when they were a little older. 

So, fifteen years later, promise fulfilled.

Whew! 

Anywho, we tagged along with Scott, Nicole and those adorable little granddaughters.

We enjoyed all of the Disney fun in varying groups and worked the Fastpass system with

great precision thanks to the Gale Force Logic Team.

The little girls did the Princess Tour

I think my princesses are pretty sweet!

It was a real Princess Palooza! 

Their Daddy was cast in the role of Palace Guard during

 the theatrical performance of

Enchanted Tales With Belle--

he was a good sport and quite the actor:

And Bailey had a starring role as Belle's father.

She gave a stunning performance--shivering in prison.

Sam and Shane's childhood Dream-come-true

(If you wish upon a star...makes no difference who you are!)

Getting a hug from Tigger!

And we conclude this post with a cute picture of the ever-adorable

June.

Sitting in a Dinosaur Restaurant.

In Disney World.

With a dinosaur hat on her head.

Good times.

On the Way Home From Church

On the way home from church today we got on the subject of names...

Shayla: My name is Gaelic for "from the fairy place".
Sam: Shane is a surfer name--or a cowboy name.
Shane: Yeah, it's a cowboy name.
Me: There is a movie called Shane--it's a western. In fact we have the movie because I read somewhere that it was one of the best westerns of all time.
Shane: Well, I have stayed at the Best Western a few times.

Assorted and Sundry Goings On

Shayla finished up Spring term at the BYU and came home.

Her mission call finally caught up with her:

Illinois, Chicago West

Some cute grandbabies came for  the Fourth of July (see above)

(and below)

Shane had THREE Birthday Celebrations...

With the fam

the ward

and his friends--they had the cake late at night and I missed getting a picture,

so you will just have to take my word for it.

We went to Palmyra for the pageant.

Wow.

Loved it!

It's exhausting having that much fun with your family.

A nice stranger took this picture of me and Shayla in front of the Palmyra Temple.

The stained glass is exquisite.

Shayla had a birthday while we were there

We visited the sites around town. A dream come true for me.

 Since I was a little girl in Sunday School learning about church history,

 I wanted to visit all the special places where our history took place. 

Smith Family log home where they were living at the time of the First Vision:

The Sacred Grove

The hearth where the plates were hidden:

E.B. Grandin's Print shop--the first copies of the Book of Mormon were printed here:

Shayla had just taken a church history class at the Y so she was a

great traveling companion to have along:

  enthusiastic and informative. 

Sam and Shane were 15 and 17 year old boys--

but hopefully we made some memories

that will mean more to them later.

We are sewing, daily sewing.

Countless skirts of modest length.

Some of the mission prep going on around these parts:

And in conclusion. Our Sam earned himself a scholarship to the BYU.

All of his studiousness paid off.

He was to send a thank you note to the scholarship committee with a picture of himself.

This is the one Shayla picked out for him.

And there you have it. 

Gale Family madness is an ongoing phenomenon so I will keep you posted.

Overheard

Sam to Shane:
"Leave the hatchet outside."

"Oh yeah, I forgot."

Just a bunch of rednecks livin' out here in Connecticut.

Wait! Is August Over Already?

Gentle Reader,
So, here we are on the other side of the continent. We moved from sea to shining sea. A few weeks ago I went to a tag sale--that's what they call garage sales here--not far from where we live. I thought it would be  a good way to get to know some people in the neighborhood. It's lovely that every home is surrounded by a few acres of yard, but it makes it difficult to chat with your neighbors when you are all separated by rolling lawns and forests. The couple at the tag sale were very friendly--they told me they had grown up in Connecticut. Everyone I talk to is amazed that we would trade sunny California for what will soon be frigid Connecticut. I told her we had lived in the Pacific Northwest for many years and we were used to a cooler climate--though snow would be a new experience. I told her I was looking forward to Fall and the change of seasons.  "You have lived in some of the most beautiful places on earth! How lucky you are! I am sure you will just continue to live a very blessed life!" my new neighbor gushed. I had heard that New Englanders are a bit reserved--she certainly shattered that stereotype.

I am not going to argue with her conclusion...

Some of the local flora in our back yard

This flowering Butterfly Bush in our front yard certainly lives up to its name!

Every day when I walk past it to get the mail, dozens of pretty butterflies are flitting around it.

Gunner has adapted to his new environment--he traded in crushed granite for grass.

Here's a favorite spot down the road from us

A place to get amazing ice cream and enjoy it whilst gazing out at the cows

We stopped by for a Back to School treat

Shane doesn't like his picture taken so this will have to suffice

We are preparing for the chilly winters here with a woodstove to keep us cozy.

 I finally got my dream come true library in this house.

And I finally got all of the books on the shelves.

Another preparation for a cozy winter.

P.S. I got the wicker-bottom chairs at my friendly neighbor's garage--I mean TAG--sale:

They are the perfect addition to round out the seating at our craigslist table.

The Truthist Takes Manhattan

Shane and I took ourselves on an adventure to the Big Apple.

He missed out on our first foray into New York City so he let me know I owed him a trip.

I tried to put him off until the weather cooled down a bit--and maybe after tourist season when it's a little less  jam-packed. But he is persistent and I ran out of excuses, so off we went. I managed to sneak the above picture of us in the train station--he ducked for all of the other attempts. 

It was 10 degrees cooler than the last time I went and even a little breezy so I was enjoying the great weather. Since our Truthist had nothing to compare it to, he was sweltering loudly. I didn't have my in-house navigators with me so, left to my own devices, I may have become a little disoriented. It's a challenge to figure out where you are when you can't see past the big tall buildings and you are surrounded by a mass of humanity. But I think that is part of the charm of the adventure--wandering a little and seeing new sites you hadn't planned into the agenda. The Truthist doesn't see it that way. He kept demanding to know where we were. 

My answer: "New York City."

We saw this in front of a fire station at some point in our wanderings.

We found Shake Shack and even found a seat to enjoy our food in the air conditioning (not an easy accomplishment--it requires assertive, even aggressive hovering to snatch a seat). Shane wasn't sure how he felt about eating elbow to elbow with strangers. Two of whom were discussing "The Dark Knight" in great detail and with some colorful language. We were all so cozy there I almost jumped in with my opinion.

We left there and wandered through Time Square. It was amazingly crowded--clinching our plan to stay as far away from there as possible come New Year's.

From there we found our way to Rockefeller Center--and the Lego store behind it.

Passing this "Fair and Balanced" icon on the way:

Shane was somewhat impressed to see the headquarters of several familiar news outlets.

We also saw the Chrysler Building. Just for the record, a newbie might mistake it for the Empire State Building and make a fool of oneself in front of one's son. Or maybe I was just trying to give him a chance to feel superior. 

The craziest part of our adventure was finding our way back to Grand Central Station. We had a round-trip ticket for "off-peak" times. But the clock started ticking on our last return time and we got turned around. Shane was hot and tired and not willing to sprint about the city looking for the magical portal to all trains home. We jumped on the subway trying to get closer to our destination and asked several friendly security guards (not the one with the Uzi at Rockefeller Center--a little too intimidating) for directions. Due to some "lost in translation" moments--I don't speak or understand New York quite yet--we got to the Station just a few minutes late.  Since we were now in "peak" time anyway, we took a restroom break and purchased a New York Times to enjoy on the ride home. 

We found seats on the train to New Haven and settled in. 

After a few stops, the acrid smell of burnt rubber began to fill our train car. Shane was zonked out and I was enjoying the editorial section of the Times when we got the announcement that the brakes had gone out on car 221. Our car. We were all to move forward or back and find new seats. Which would be great except for it being "peak" time or in other words "rush hour". We had to wander like refugees as dignified businessmen and women and the hardworking people along the New Haven line avoided eye contact with us and guarded their empty seat territory carefully.

We finally just pushed into seats and sat awkwardly knee-to-knee with strangers who were expert in the art of riding a crowded train and resigned themselves to losing the personal space lottery for this ride.

The Union Station Clock--and beautiful American flag

We got back to Union Station and found our car and headed home. I try to allow my Truthist his less-than-rosy outlook on life and listened as he recounted every misery of the trip all the way home (in heavy traffic--still in "peak" hours folks!) I restrained from pointing out the amazing things we had seen. I bit my tongue rather than exclaim what an adventure it had been. 

Then he came home and posted on Facebook:

"Went to the big apple yesterday!! Saw time square, Rockefeller plaza, and the Chrysler building. But we got lost several times and it was super hot... Still fun, though!"

I think I'm winning him over to the bright side.