Sunday, September 29, 2013

The Makeover

Making a house a home is more than just the THINGS you put in it. It is most certainly about the people you have in it, and the general spirit that pervades.

But things help- don't they?

You can see then why we endured two weeks of flooring mess and headache:

 

I tried an embarrassing number of paint colors before I found the perfect one:


All with the hope that this house, situated in a quiet, shady neighborhood in south Florida, 2,537 miles from everything we knew, would feel like somewhere we belonged.

I think it worked, what do you think?

Family room before:

After:



Entry way before:

After:

Living room before:

And after:

They had a dining area, we put the office:


Master bedroom before:




And after(still have pictures to put up in here):

Eleanor's room before:

After (she did all her own decorating with blue paint tape and original artwork):

 

Jack and Henry's rooms were too disastrous to photograph in their entirety (they are settling in just fine), but major changes included paint in Jack's room and an added border in) Henry's room.

So, that's it!

This is our home.

Henry summed it up the other day when he said, "Mom, I feel like we live here now, not like we are on vacation anymore."

Me too, Henry.

 

 

Friday, August 30, 2013

Critters

I am afraid to go out at night.

It is not the urban environment.  I am not afraid of my neighbors or of crime.

It's the creepy crawlies.

Even now, as I write, I can hear them.  There are actually hundreds of little bugs that take kamikaze flights into our closed windows every evening.  If I open the front door when the porch light has been on, dozens of things scatter and retreat into the darkness.

There are geckos everywhere.  Henry has become a professional gecko catcher.  They do shed their tails when they are nervous, and Henry is such a gecko charmer that he can hold one that actually keeps his tail.

I have seen some very cool things though.  The other morning I saw a HUGE lizard climb up the palm tree in our backyard- like the kind you see at a pet store.

When I was little, all kinds of creatures used to wander into onto our acres of property in Washington because they had a sixth sense that told them my mom would take them in.
Apparently, I inherited that quality.
One of our first weeks here we saved a snake that had injured itself trying to leave our patio area.  Before helping it, we used the internet to determine it wasn't poisonous, then bent back the metal patio area to help it slither away.




I have been surprised by more than one frog in our mailbox.

There are dragonflies everywhere.

Butterflies a plenty.

And, much to Inga's dismay...fleas.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Bananas and Pie

When I was little I liked to make up nick names for everyone.

I called my grandparents Grooma and Groompa.

I called my best friend Biz Bleach.

I called my mom Salami (yes, she was and is very patient and accommodating to my creativity).

My boys have also picked up some strange words over the last few months.  It started with Jack, as most things do, and spread to Henry, and then Eleanor just repeats whatever they say.

I think it is part nervous tick, part performer/entertainer/need to be the center of attention.

Jack's one word that will define summer 2013: Pie.

He says it all the time.  The phrase is usually, "I like pie."    Whenever we meet someone new (which we have done ALOT of), he says it.  Whenever there is a break in the conversation, he says it.  Did I mention he says it all the time?



Upon seeing the effect Jack's antics had on those we met, Henry was not about to be outdone. Knowing he couldn't copy exactly, that would be too obvious, he came up with "Bananas."  It is often just that one word- sometimes repeated.




Eleanor then feels the need to explain her brother's behavior and proceeds to offer some kind of commentary on the situation.

So, if you meet us, the conversation may go like this:

Me: It is nice to meet you!  These are my children Jack;

Jack: I like pie (accompanied by a little hop, and an awkward wave, eyes averted).

Me: My son Henry-

Henry: Bananas (accompanied by a huge Henry grin).

Me: and Eleanor.

Eleanor: Those boys just say that all the time (a little giggle and a slight shake of the head- like they are incorrigible and she is not sure quite what to do with them. Then, with a thumb up and gesturing at each brother in turn she continues:) Jack likes pie, and Henry likes be-nanas (peals of laughter and more head shaking).

I think I will make some banana pie...

Sunday, August 4, 2013

The Perfect Cookie

I have long been on a quest to bake the perfect cookie. I had my first perfect cookie in Junior high, at my dear friend Sarah's house. They were just chocolate chip. Nothing fancy. In their family, no cooling racks are used, just let them rest for a minute on the cookie sheet, then transfer to foil on the counter.

I thought perhaps this was the secret: cooling on foil.

So, I tried that. My cookies still lacked form and plumpness.

I thought it was the ingredients- should I use Crisco, or butter, more brown sugar, more vanilla? My cookie making attempts resembled a 6th grade science fair project. But even after all my attempts, my cookies lacked texture, or sweetness, or general deliciousness.

I told myself it was the altitude in Utah.

But my neighbor could make perfect cookies.

I told myself it was my pan. But others with the same pans have made perfect cookies.

Eventually I was consoled by the fact that my oven was just not up to snuff. That if I only had a better oven I could make the perfect chocolate chip cookie.

One of my hopes about moving to a new home is that right there inside I would find the perfect cookie baking oven. A oven that produced sweet, chewy, perfectly shaped cookies.

It even had a light, so I could watch the little darlings bake. Looks good, right?

 

This picture was taken at the peak of my hope- 6 minutes in and they were PERFECT.

Then, all of a sudden BAM!

They all exhaled, puddling their ooey gooey goodness all over the pan.

 

Failure, again.

They still tasted great- and with new cinnamon chocolate chips that Jared discovered (yum!).

But they lacked form and presentation.

Sigh.

My hopes were shattered.

However, I did use some very old baking powder... Could that be the culprit?

Maybe I should try again.

And thus, my hope is born all over again. The quest continues for the perfect homemade cookie.

All suggestions toward this end are welcome and encouraged.

 

Monday, July 29, 2013

Welcome Home!

I remember once in college talking to a friend I had made freshman year. We had lost contact and spent a few minutes catching up. I inquired after a very close friend that I too had spent some time with. Sadly, my freshman friend had lost touch with this very close friend, citing that, "there are only so many people you can really keep in your circle before one gets pushed out."

At the time I nodded my head in agreement- keeping up with friends is hard. But over the years I have given much thought to this statement, and decided I am not in agreement. Yes, it may be impossible to call every person you know every week, but it is not impossible to be in some kind of contact. Especially now. At the time of this college conversation, we barely knew what cell phones were- never mind Facebook, texting, or twitter.

I need to blog.

I need it even more now that my family has moved to south Florida.

This is our beautiful home in Coral Springs.

New Southard Home

 

You would think that south Florida would be entirely different than Utah valley. W have found a surprising number of similarities:

1. We moved from Harvest HILLS to Forest HILLS.

2. We still live on a cul-de-sac.

3. The kids still play in the street with minimal danger of being run over.

4. Moved from Saratoga SPRINGS to Coral SPRINGS.

5. Our address in Utah was four digits starting with 25, same here.

6. Elementary school within biking distance.

7. Church building is still under 10 minutes from home.

8. Multiple boys between the ages of 7 and 13 wandering the neighborhood.

Uncanny, really.

We are working on some home improvements, will post ore pictures soonish.

But, of course, the one big difference between our home here and how one in Utah:

 

It is absolutely unbelievable. We love this pool. We swim every day. Almost like it is too good to be true so we need to use it before it is gone. So much fun.

 

Friday, November 4, 2011

Having a Girl

One of the few things I was looking forward to with having a girl is having someone who wanted to just sit down and color, or cut and paste, or just be crafty.

Eleanor loves to do those things.

It is so fun. We do playdough we color, we cut and paste. One of the leaders of my church gave a great talk on how women are naturally good at creating. We are.

Brothers

My grandma asked me all the time, "And what about those two boys, do they get along?" then to my affirmative answer she says, "oh good. You know my two brothers always did. The were the best of friends."

Don't get me wrong. Jack and Henry know how to fight. They know all too well what will annoy the other one. But they do play together very well. They do best at things like this. Crazy, outdoor things with no rules or limitations. Just acting silly.

I love it.

School

I loved school. Always. I love it now, for lots of reasons. But mostly because I really feel like. My kids are better behaved after school. Maybe it is the routine, or just spending all day being obedient to another adult that makes it easier to listen to me, whatever it is, I like it.

I simply cannot believe Jack is in third grade, I member third grade. I remember it very well, actually. I remember Mrs. Winningham who was also my Kindergarten teacher. I remember her singing "Witches Brew" at Haloween. I remember that a boy copies my Easter egg paper mâché design it it was very upsetting. My Cassie and Carly got braces. I could go on and on.

Henry is so beyond ready for Kindergarten, he came home the first week, completely disappointed by his math homework. "When do we get to do pluses?" he asked.

Ad then there is Miss Eleanor. I took her to get her picture taken at the boys' school and when she was melting down in the parking lot after the picture I realized that she thought it was going to be her turn to go to school, and was so disappointed that it wasn't. But we do a neighborhood preschool now, and she loves that.

My beautiful children.

Face Paint

Months and months ago we had dinner at my friend Ugo's house. They had face paint. It was beyond fun. I had to get some. It has been a blast, to just get your face painted whenever you feel like it.
Henry has really embraced this concept and we do it fairly regularly.
The vampire and Frankenstein are his favorite.
I like all the pretty princess and fairy faces, but this time Eleanor wanted to be something scarier.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Camping

As an ironic finale to our Staycation, we didn't stay, we went. Camping, that is.

Jared has this thing against camping. Well, not exactly against camping, it is more against the combination of small children and open fires. As a result, our camping excursions for the last four summers have consisted of setting up a tent in the back yard.

So we were all (well, four of us anyway) really excited to go camping.

Especially these two.

We even brought the dog, which makes five excited about camping, I guess.

But we can't all be happy all the time, can we?

It was a beautiful and quiet campground. We took a nice walk and came back to build a good fire.
We cooked and devoured our tin foil dinners to which Henry exclaimed, "This is the best food I have ever tasted!"

We finished off the evening with roasted marshmallows. Jack discovered an ingenious way to expedite the s'more process by actually roasting the chocolate with the oversized marshmallows. Delicious.

But while tents and campfires and s'mores are all camping staples, I think the most telling evidence is here: