Notes of Note. A Post in Two Parts

Part I:
The Note From School, or,
Loosening My Bra As My Heart Swells With Pride

First of all, thank you for all your kind words of support and encouragement about Cam's science fair project. He took it to school yesterday and sat by it for an hour or two, answering questions from the judges and visiting parents. He was proud of his project and did a good job all around.

Today he brought this note home:

And this:
Pretty cool. Cameron was worried that he'd have to do another whole project. I assured him that if that was the case, he would politely decline the invitation. There is a bunch of paperwork to fill out though - almost a mini written report. And if he goes on to the state fair, we have to pay an entrance fee. For now, I think we'll just relax and enjoy being off track.



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Part II:
The Note That Came Out of the Dryer, or

If It's Love, Why Does It Hurt So Much?

Okay, I might be crossing a line. Sure I can post the pictures of Troy getting his eyebrows waxed, and me getting my colonoscopy, but this is almost too personal.


Last night, after I had tucked the boys in bed, I went to change the laundry over to the dryer. I pulled the dry clothes out and a tightly folded, still slightly damp note fell onto the floor.


You all told me about what you've pulled out of the dryer - the ipods, the gum, the dead hamster and the poop. But a note? You read it, right?

I did.

It was fragile from its trip through the washer and dryer but I carefully unfolded it and read the pencil writing.


Cam had written it, but never delivered it. It said:

"To Aspen, I like you. (smiley face)...But you like Will. Abby told me you hate me and never want to talk to me again. (frowny face)


I raced downstairs to show the note to Troy. He was as shocked as I was. There was romantic drama going on? We never knew. And what a love triangle it seems to be - Cam, Aspen, Will, and Abby - though so far, Abby is only the passer of information. Who is this Aspen girl...and why is she breaking my son's heart?


I went to ask Cam about it. He denied knowing what I was talking about, but that might have been because I woke him up. I asked him who everyone was and he tried to tell me what had happened. Even through his explanation I could tell that he wasn't even sure what was going on.


"Are you sad?" I was prepared to grieve with him.


"Not really."

"But you drew a frowny face! That means you're sad!"

"Then I guess I was."

"Why didn't you deliver it?" Hand me a bigger spoon, I'm stirring it up really good now.

"I changed my mind."

"Okay sweetheart. Probably better that way. Do you want to talk about it? Do you need a hug?"

"Mom, I'd kinda forgotten all about it."

"Oh...okay...but if you need a shoulder..."

"Goodnight!"

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Two very different notes, but they both amaze me.

I just have to ask...


Did you ever pass notes in school?

I Think I Heard Some Angels Singing

It's a wrap.

We are finished.

Done.

Completed.

Depleted.

Spent.

Exhausted...

and oh, so Happily Satisfied.

The science project is ready to turn in. The 13 page report is tucked into a nice, white cover; the display is standing up on the kitchen table - I can't take my eyes off of it.

I'm just a little bit proud of it.

I love stuff like this - choosing the fonts, laying out copy, lining things up, making everything nice and symmetrical.

I even let Cameron help a little bit with taping things into place.

I'm kidding.

Sort of.

Let's just say the display part of the science fair project has been a joint effort.

He did the report part with only a little supervision from me, but I just couldn't keep my hands off the display. I LOVE this kind of thing!

Cameron and I present :


Check it out. Click to enlarge this bad boy.



Do you like the arrows? I love the arrows. We had to display the Scientific Method so that it was well organized and easy to follow from one idea to the next. Nothing does that like an arrow.

A few pictures, a snazzy title, the Jester font (Cameron chose this), and even a couple graphs. Self-taught on Microsoft Works Spreadsheet, I am. Lots and lots of tape and some construction paper for a punch of color.


Cam is happy.

I am happy, multiplied by ecstatic, divided by tired, and rounded up to tickled pink with the entire thing.

It's DONE. Cue the Angel Chorus.

Hallelujah and Amen.

Do you think I could sell it on ebay?

Tag! I'm It.

I have been tagged - the first time ever. It's that thing where you reveal a few little-known things about yourself and then "tag" someone who reads your blog, then they have to go and do the same thing on their own blog. Sort of a modern day chain letter. If you ignore the tag, I think your blog deletes itself or something.

My first thought about revealing facts about myself was that I've already shared most everything. I've written about my feet, my colon, my love for 80's music and Zac Efron, the way our gerbils die and how I love to watch Troy get his eyebrows waxed. I am an open book.

And then I actually thought of a few more.

As always though, there's a little backstory to explore first.

I started reading some blogs belonging to some friends of mine maybe a year and half ago. There was my childhood friend wahwee, and her husband loudboy, the older sister sugarbritches, just to name a few. All of a sudden I was immersed in their lives and knowing things about them and their extended family members - it was the ultimate fly-on-the-wall experience.

I was a lurker - didn't even have my own account and I couldn't leave comments, but I was addicted to reading everything they wrote. I started clicking around, found Cheeky Lotus (who has retired), Pioneer Woman, and many other blogs that I checked on daily. Finally I started Dishes and Laundry last July and that was it for me.

"Hi I'm Wendy...and I'm a blogaholic."

"Hi Wendy."

More family and friends have started blogs and it honestly has become one of the things I enjoy most, every single day. The writing is a creative and therapeutic outlet for me, my family likes reading about themselves (I think), and I get a lot of satisfaction from hitting publish. I love your comments and the friendships I've made through all of this.

So check out those links - do Loudboy first. He tagged the other two, and then Wahwee tagged me. Then come back here and read all six new and exciting interesting provacative astonishing time killing facts about me.

Here goes:

#1. I was named after Wendy in Peter Pan. My biological Dad was an actor and when I was born he was starring as Captain Hook in a local production. I've always liked my name - and it was far better than Tiger Lily or Tinkerbell, the only other girl names in the play. I like that the play has a song for me, titled, Wendy. I like that the Beach Boys have a song titled, Wendy, and I like that The Association has a song titled Windy. They spelled my name wrong but I don't care. What kid doesn't enjoy hearing their name on the radio?

Who's peekin' out from under a stairway

Calling a name that's lighter than air

Who's bending down to give me a rainbow

Everyone knows it's Windy

Who's tripping down the streets of the city

Smilin' at everybody she sees

Who's reachin' out to capture a moment

Everyone knows it's Windy

And Windy has stormy eyes

That flash at the sound of lies

And Windy has wings to fly

Above the clouds (above the clouds)

Above the clouds (above the clouds)

------ flute ------

Who's tripping down the streets of the city

Smilin' at everybody she sees

Who's reachin' out to capture a moment

Everyone knows it's Windy

[repeat and fade]

#2. When I was very young, my babysitter was Joyce DeWitt. You know her as Janet from Three's Company. Of course that was back when she was a teenager (actor Dad was also her high school drama teacher) and wasn't using such a heavy hand with the eyeliner. 'Cause, whoa.

She's the only "famous" person I've ever known, and she probably changed my diaper.

#3. When I was a young teenager, my favorite tv show was M*A*S*H*. I LOVED this show. For Christmas one year, I got a book all about the show. It had the history of the show, cast biographies, episode summaries, pictures and more pictures. I read this book cover to cover, quoting it, putting little checks by the episodes as I watched them in reruns. I could name the titles of each episode and recite trivia about all the stars. I still have this book - it's held together with packaging tape. When the show ended in 1983, I taped the final episode, Goodbye, Farewell and Amen, and watched a little bit of it every morning as I got ready for school. This went on for months. I cried and cried every time that helicopter lifted off the ground with Hawkeye inside and he could see GOODBYE spelled out in rocks.

I bet I haven't watched an episode in 20 years.

#4. I love having my feet rubbed. Any time, any place, any where. I would let a stranger rub my feet. Troy rubs my feet during Sacrament Meeting, reaching down and kneading, tickling, massaging. Cameron does it best though. He watches tv with me and sits with my feet in his lap and goes to work. His technique is superb and I hope he never gets tired of rubbing his Mama's feet.

#5. I am not a very good driver and I'm directionally challenged. I can get lost driving to places that I'm familiar with. Every time I drive to my Grandma's house (same house she's lived in forever) I have to ask Troy "Now how do I get there?". I am always missing exits and turnoffs, driving miles out of my way. I hate making left hand turns, changing lanes, and we won't even talk about driving at night. I don't drive downtown. Downtown to me is anything north of 21st South.

One time I went to a viewing in Lehi. I arrived (with the help of mapquest) in the daylight, but by the time I left it was dark. I couldn't see the mountains and didn't know which way to go to get back on the freeway (which I also hate driving on). I was completely and utterly lost. I drove around aimlessly until I found someone who drove like they knew where they were going and followed them. Somehow I made it home.

Knocking on wood here, but surprisingly, I've never been in an accident (other than when I was a passenger).

Troy tells me about some of the places he drives and the conditions he drives in and I get all panicky just hearing about it.

I love it when Troy is home and he offers to drive me around on my errands. He drops me off, waits in the car and then takes me to the next place. He rarely complains. This is why I love him. That and the foot rubbing thing.

#6. I can't sleep if I'm touching someone. Troy and I have these pillow barricades on our bed and it's a king size bed. There never has been, nor will there ever be, falling asleep in each other's arms. Cuddling is great, but when it's time to sleep, the pillows come out. We're so far apart, I don't think we could touch each other without stretching for it.

And that's it. Six little facts about me.

Don't I sound fun? Don't get in a car with me and someday I might ask you to rub my feet.

I tag my sister-in-law Elise and happyleila.

P.S. You have got to go read Elise's story about her shark.

Important Scientific Findings From My Kitchen

No, no, Science has not discovered that an unmopped floor leads to better overall health, or that a less than sparkling oven produces tastier food, though I am convinced of both and will gladly offer my kitchen towards any experiments that could prove it.

What has been found, scientifically speaking, is that 5th Grade Science Fair Projects are a lot of work!

Cameron chose to experiment with microwave popcorn and how different storage temperatures will affect the final product. Apparently, each kernel of popcorn contains a small amount of water in the center - when that water is heated, it produces steam and pressure, and that's what makes it explode. The water content has to be around 14% - even a tiny percentage difference and you'll get poor quality popcorn. We tried to mess with the water content.

We've been keeping:

Popcorn packets in the freezer - predicting that the drop of water inside the kernel will freeze, expand, and crack the shell, making the kernels unpoppable. Also something about the cold keeping it from heating quickly enough in the exact popping time.

Popcorn packets in the fridge - predicting that the percentage of water inside the kernel would be altered by the low humidity and produce less fluffy popcorn, and again with the cold keeping it from heating enough.

Popcorn packets on the counter - predicting that this would be the perfect spot to store popcorn.
We did a test run, timing an extra bag on how long it took for it to pop perfectly, and then we used that time for all the bags. We are nothing if not scientific.

Cam popped the freezer bags first. We seriously thought it wouldn't even work, that we'd have to cut open the bag to reveal oily, sad, cracked kernels, ruined by their 30+ hours in the freezer. What a great picture that would make for the display board.

Guess what? It popped just fine. Tasted fine too.

We tried the refrigerator samples next, hoping at least for some decreased volume. Those popped up fine as well.

When Cameron popped the counter samples, I was ready to be blown away. For sure these packets would pop up with double the volume, twice the flavor, no old maids, anything.

Amaze me, cool science experiment, amaze me!!!

Nope.

It was pretty much all the same. I would have served any of the popcorn to company.

We measured every batch, counted every unpopped kernel, and did a good handful-size taste test. Any differences were negligible. Seriously.


I think the freezer samples produced 50 or so unpopped kernels and 2 quarts of popcorn, the fridge samples had around thirty unpopped kernels and the same volume, and the counter samples had 20 unpopped kernels and made 2 quarts plus 1 1/2 cups of popcorn.

Big deal.

However, for the sake of the Science Fair, we are making a very big deal about that extra cup and a half of popcorn and how few old maids were left when we wisely stored our popcorn at room temperature.

We're also gonna poke around a little bit more and see if we can prove that the counter samples produced bigger popped kernels.


Please, let them have produced bigger popped kernels. I want to show something significant from this little experiment.

Perhaps I should contact the Pop Weaver Popcorn Company and suggest their new advertising campaign: You can store this stuff anywhere - it'll still pop!

So that was the fun, fast part of the project. Now Cameron has to write up everything, including: a purpose page, research pages, hypothesis page, materials page, procedural page, variables page, data pages, analysis page, and a conclusion page.

He's in fifth grade, remember?

Then there's the display board that needs to be colorful, creative, and charismatic though it cannot contain any actual popcorn. Shoot - we were gonna glue a nice popcorn border around the edges.

It's all due next Thursday.

We're just hoping to be done flossing by then.

Happy Birthday Cameron!

I'm a few days late on this, but on his actual birthday, we were doing, well, birthday stuff.

Cameron turned eleven last Saturday. Eleven...eleven!

We had a really fun day - Troy was home and we spent the whole day together. As usual, I tried to show my love through food, waking Cameron up to German pancakes. My side of the family was coming over for dinner and Cameron had requested a dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce (no onions or mushrooms) and garlic bread (with no cheese), and key lime pie for dessert. I spent a good part of the day preparing the meal and doing some cleaning, and generally hugging him whenever he walked by.

Cameron got everything he wished for, including the funds (thanks Grandma and Grandpa and Great-Grandma) to purchase a computer game he wanted. While Troy did the shopping, installing of the game and cleanup from the party, I snuck away to go see the movie Juno with a friend.

I had wanted to write about the emotions that this movie stirred up inside me and how it all related to Cameron's birthday, his amazing adoption and my feelings about his birthmom. But when I start to write, the words don't seem adequate. My language just isn't enough to explain everything about my boy, his birthmom, and her gift that made me a mother.

He is my heart.
She is too.

I don't want to be tearful and emotional as I write to celebrate Cameron's birthday. I want to be funny and joyous over this sweet kid that I absolutely adore. I want to tell you about all his remarkable qualities and characteristics, and how he makes me laugh, his easy-going attitude and everything I love about him.

The other stuff, the fact that the happiest day of my life was his birthmom's hardest day, is just too emotional for words - even eleven years later. Maybe I can write about it someday. Maybe not.

So today I'm just going to share a few pix. That's the beauty of blogging - you don't have to wait for someone to ask to see a picture of your kids - you can just throw 'em out there.

I don't have any pictures of Cameron on his actual birthday.
Our story starts on his Gotcha Day. He was one day old.

This was taken just moments after Cameron was laid in my arms. Don't look at my hair - just don't even look at it. (Seriously, what the heck???) Instead, look at that beautiful, perfect baby boy. Red lips, slicked hair, tiny curled up little body, wrapped in a blanket made by his birthmom's sister.

He was my dream come true.

Back at home, we spent the rest of the day receiving visitors and talking on the phone.

"He's here...he's ours..."

There was a brief period in Cameron's life when he had a little body fat.

That was then...

This is now...

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures of Cameron. The hair...those lips...

That was then...

This is now...

Oh, those lips!

That was then...

This is now...

I guess some things don't change.

Happy Birthday, Cameron!!

I love you. You make me happy every single day.

I'm so grateful that you are mine and I am yours.

Come and gimme a hug.