Geeking Out At Comic-Con

     She hates math, she hates science, she hates computers, she hates gadgets. BUT she is kind of a nerd. For some reason unknown, Hailey has become a fan of geeky stuff like Dr Who, Star Trek, Anime and Sherlock.  And since we are a family of "non-dweebs" I can only blame this development on that enchanting, if not addicting, website Pinterest.  All the nerds in the world can harmonize in their dorky humor. They can share costume photos or drool over movie characters. And best of all they can go to conventions like Comic-Con, Fantasy-Con and Anime-Con. So for the past several months Hailey has been working on a costume to wear to these gatherings.

Introducing a protector of the innocent: a warrior, a "good guy" from the Anime series "ATTACK ON TITAN"

Waiting in line with the other "geeks" at Comic-Con

browsing through "dorky" merchandise

Still, I am so proud of my independent, creative and confident daughter. As I watched her make her own "sword" using cardboard, glue and paint, I felt that there is nothing she can't do if she puts her mind to it. I also realized that she doesn't have to be good in math to be a smart, fun and adventurous friend.

Wetsuits In The Desert

     The southern desert shimmers in it's own summer heat. The full sunshine roasts and drains all living things of their energy. So why do I keep returning to the desert? Because it's incomparably beautiful and strangely special. Aside from the rusty red landscapes and the distinctive rock formations, southern Utah has slot canyons. The slot canyon phenomena is so unbelievably unique it cannot be described. Just try to picture what water does to sandstone as it plows it's way across the barren landscape during a flash flood. The best way to explore the bizarre nature of a slot canyon is to become a part of it. So as the sun scorches everything on the surface, it cannot reach the deep crevices into which we descend. It seems nutty to repel into a "trap" caused by nature. The towering cliff walls above have no handholds, the closing in of these striated walls come together within feet of each other. The deep potholes of water in the slot seem to have no bottom. And the water is cold. Depending on the depth of the crevice it can be really cold. So why do we do it? Because canyoneering is unequal to any experience in the world and is emblematic of the way Utahn's live. We love to take advantage of our natural resources.

 

Keyhole Slot Canyon, Zion's National Park

Creatures Of Habit In California

The annual Hosenfeld California migration has taken place once again. Twenty-one of us made the annual visit to the garden of Eden to visit grandpa. Just like clockwork all 21 of us arrived at the Salt Lake City airport within five minutes of each other. Like a row of ducklings we boarded the plane and sat in roughly the same seats as last year. And as usual our five rental cars ended up parked at a fantastic, wide-windowed beach house right on Capistrano Beach.
It didn't take us long to resort to our usual California habits; staking out fridge space, scoring a beach chair and finding an outlet for our hundred electronic devices. And even though there are countless restaurants in the area we always, without fail, go to Pedro's for a bean/cheese/potato burrito or push all the tables together at Harbor House for the best hot crab sandwiches in the world. We see the same waiter every year at El Torito, and he recognizes us as well. And the grief we put the "crepe place" through when we arrange all their sidewalk tables into a long row to fit all of us! Serving 21 chatting, squirming, screaming Hosenfelds at the same time is epic!
A trip to California also entails everyone wearing their new Rip Curl T-shirts purchased the day before as well as going to Trader Joe's repeatedly. To cap off the trip Dad always wants to catch the sunset at Dana Point Harbor (although it usually takes a couple of tries since the sun sets faster than our planning allows). As the tsunami of Hosenfelds plow their way through restaurants and outlet stores we are all the more grateful for a large family because when we visit grandpa (in gentle waves) we are reminded of how important and precious family is despite the chaos.

 great views from the Capistrano Beach House

always a pleasure to visit this great man

Red=Hot

    Southern Utah is notorious for it's soaring red cliffs, red sand dunes, red rocks, red roads. I am convinced that there is a reason for all the red. Everything is red because southern Utah is an oven in the summer and the rocks and cliffs are hot coals. Hailey and I traveled south a couple of weeks ago in order to poke around Zion's for a bit. We didn't know that the temperature was going to drain every bit of life we had to give. It was 108 degrees in the sun. In the shade it dropped to 101. We tried our best to enjoy the majesty and wonder of the 2000 foot cliff walls and the beauty of the Virgin River banked by lush trees and grasses.            Crowds were drawn to the River Walk (the mouth of the "Narrows"). We all haggardly trudged through the river, just grateful for the relief of cool water washing through our legs. Nobody expected to reach the area where the sheer cliffs narrow and nearly fall together. Even walking three miles was arduous in this heat despite the scenery.
    By three o'clock we were done for. Collapsing into the seats of the park shuttle, we sipped from our 100 degrees water bottles and wound our way down the red road under the towering red cliffs. Upon reaching the car I realized that my steering wheel was on fire. Soon we were heading back to St. George in an air conditioned paradise on wheels. Once back at the house Hailey and I sullenly ate popsicles and then
passed out from heat exhaustion. We didn't even get up to eat dinner.



*a fanny pack, aviator sunglasses, sleeveless Pink Floyd shirt??
I don't dress her!

The Teen Room

There comes a time when a teen doesn't want to climb a ladder to get into bed anymore. There is also a time when she packs up all the beloved stuffed animals and American Girl Doll accessories and art supplies that were so important to her in the past. And that lime green paint on the walls? It has to go too. The problem is where all those treasures end up. Hailey's vast collections of bottle caps, bullet casings, marbles, seashells, rocks etc. etc. etc. end up cluttering my once clutter-free basement. And nothing can be thrown away EVER! she says.
So after weeks of clearing Hailey's "little girl" room of it's little girl memories, we painted the walls a light blue, put in a double bed and bought a plethora of throw pillows. Now it's a teen room. In this new space you will find "big girl" stuff like a laptop, an iphone, a stereo, jewelry and lotions. But you will also find a precious and irreplaceable item from childhood: "doggy blanket", a constant companion since age three. This ragged blanket will always be in Hailey's bedroom no matter where her bedroom happens to be.


 Old Room, Old Treasures

"under-the-bed" desk used to be so cool

The coolest room in the house

He Thinks He's Still Little

Sometimes I mess with Tanner by testing him. Most of the time I don't know what's going on in his little head. It is hard to truly know what he has learned and what he thinks about himself. Recently, I found an old "baby pool" in the back garage and remembered a three year old Tanner standing next to it so that he could splash with his little hands. It was a water toy designed for "hands only" type of play and not for sitting inside. I brought the well made plaything out of the shadows, sprayed off the decade old cobwebs and insect carcasses and filled it with water. Then I let Tanner out into the yard to see what he would do with the "new thing". I'll be darned if he didn't climb into the shallow water as if he were a toddler. He still thinks he's little. So even if the toy is a STEP 2 (for 24 month old) it still withstood a 120 pound 196 month old. Now that's durable.

Don't Mess With Tradition

Every June forever and ever us girls will go on our little bike ride in Logan. The weekend will start by fastening our road bikes to various SUV's and driving to one of our favorite places. We will stay in the same hotel as always and eat at the same Indian food place/gas station where we can buy tikka masala, garlic naan, fuel, aspirin and gummy bears from our waiter. Next we will make a convoy down to the local ice cream shop and talk until it gets too cold. We will talk about tomorrow's ride and how none of us have ridden a bike since last year's ride (except mom, who can out ride us all). Then we'll drive back to the hotel and attempt to sleep, but really it is just like a sleepover party and we giggle and watch TV late into the night.When the alarm goes off the next morning four sisters groan and try to make excuses about how to make the upcoming ride shorter by cheating. But when we finally get to the starting line we realize how lucky we are to ride side by side with a friend, a sister, or a mother.And even though we all return home with tender butts, sore shoulders and sunburned arms, the pain is worth the time we spent together. Bring on LRRH 2015!

LRRH 2014

The Purpose Of The Middle Finger

Three weeks ago I smashed the guts out of my finger. I was left with a painful nub wrapped safely in a rather large and unwieldy splint. During that time I have learned the purpose of having a middle finger. Aside from continually flipping the bird, I lost the ability to do most of the mundane things I do on a daily basis. The most important aspect of having five functional fingers is the ability to grip. Almost every action involves a grip: pulling heavy things, pushing heavy things, lifting heavy things. So in essence, changing, bathing and moving Tanner was an impossibility. Also I found folding laundry, making beds and doing the dishes to be very cumbersome using only one hand. Try washing your hair with one hand. For that matter try washing your hand with one hand. Try it!

So although I can survive using just one hand I am so grateful I have two. After three weeks I am well on my way to a fully functional grasp. Already there is a tiny newborn fingernail growing right where it should and by the end of the summer it may need a trim.

The Full Moon And My Finger

It started out as a typical Tuesday afternoon. I was the loving, wonderful mother, dropping everything to please my typical teenage daughter. I sat in the passenger seat as Hailey drove around Kaysville, testing her driving skills. Then I cooked her favorite dinner. Then I sat on the couch and watched her favorite TV show with her. Peace reigned, we were contentedly spending time together, all was well.

Then something happened. The moon reached it's zenith of fullness and Hailey and I turned into a couple of crazy people. We began "fighting" over the remote control. I wanted to watch "my" show, she wanted to watch "her" show. Then I began chasing her through the house. She headed toward her room and I was right behind her as she slammed her bedroom door. Except part of me was in the way of the door, yet the solid wood door closed nonetheless. Then I felt a strange numbness in my finger and I yelped like a dog.

I didn't want to look at it.  I knew it was bad due to the lack of pain. So I looked at it. The top of my middle finger looked fine until I touched it and saw the flesh move unnaturally. It was bad, I could see bone. I forced Hailey to "LOOK AT IT"!!! That was her first punishment.

I drove myself to the ER, all the while my finger throbbed like a big, bloody blob of alien flesh. The physician looked at it and congratulated me on a job well done. Then he pried my precious fingernail out of it's nail bed and put it in a cup. Next as he tried to find salvageable flesh to sew he used the phrase "this is pretty pulverized", which made me feel great (not really). After watching the curved suture needle go in and out of my finger I was surprised when the doctor started re-seating my dead fingernail. Apparently my old nail will protect my wound for the next two weeks and then I can pull it off again. And for the next year a brand new, delicate nail will grow.

So now I am disabled. I can't grip, I can't dig, I can't write. And best/worst of all I can't take care of Tanner. Now for Hailey's true punishment for slamming my finger in her door.....SHE has to change and bathe and help her brother. Ha! Finally! I think I will continue to fake my intense pain for at least a month so that she can become proficient at her new job. Guilt is the best manipulator.

St. George Has The Hosenfelds

 Southern Utah is going to be seeing the Hosenfelds a lot more often. With a speed of 90mph (if there is no highway patrol and it's late) we can drive there in 3.5 quick hours, have a comfy house to stay in and wake up to the most stunning red rock cliffs imaginable. St George is the preeminent playground for all of us because it offers EVERYTHING! Last week we brought 10 bikes, climbing gear, hiking boots, swimsuits and sand toys. Used them all!!

sunbathing teens with their headphones on high

r

 almost made it to the road

weakling at Chuckawalla

Spaghetti #2

Five years ago I recorded the kooky way Tanner ate spaghetti. He was 11 years old then and was so specific with his method of eating pasta. For some unknown reason Tanner felt compelled to put a handful of the noodles onto the counter first before he stuffed it in his mouth. I always wondered why he did this with just spaghetti and nothing else. Recently I watched as he ate his noodles and realized that he does the exact same quirky thing he did all those years ago. So every five years I think Iwill make a spaghetti video of Tanner and I bet he will continue to eat the same way.

Spaghetti 2007
 

It Was Fun When I Was Twelve

I understand that my birthday comes around once a year, every year. I would probably forget that special day if it were not for the persistent and relentless persecution I endure by the hands of family and friends. I'm not too keen on getting older and I realize I'm getting older when I can't remember how old I am. Still people insist on celebrating. But I know that if nobody did anything on my special day I would be disappointed and even a bit indignant. So thank you everybody for reminding me that I am not an island.

I'm glad I get to share the Birthday Joy with Hailey, we're
birthday buddies born in April

A very practical gift for an old gal like me. Now I won't have to strain my delicate shoulder trying to get the machines to start.



I bet when I was twelve I got toys instead of landscaping equipment

No Big Deal Birthday

Well, my little daughter turned 15 today. I can't say it was a joyful occasion because, you see, teenagers aren't allowed to celebrate and be merry. They are very serious people. Enjoyment is seen as a weakness. When I asked Hailey what she wanted to do on her special day she said....nothing.  So for my own benefit I took balloons and donuts to her soccer game and made everyone sing "happy birthday" to her. How embarrassing!

And since Hailey turns 15 only once in a lifetime we felt obligated to get her a gift (although when asked what she wanted she said....nothing).

Now that the birthday cheer has petered out I can only look back nostalgically at  Hailey's past birthdays to find the true joy and wonder of childhood.

-----first bike 5yrs old

-----second bike 8yrs old

-----third bike 11yrs old

-----LAST bike 15yrs old

-----NEXT year??? Good luck sweetheart, you're going to need it!!

Blog-Hog

I want to introduce you to my 3 month old Autism Blog. It seems that Tanner has been a blog-hog for a while now so I decided to dedicate a blog specifically to him. In this newer venue I write more about how I have learned to live and thrive with a boy who sometimes wants to kill me.

There is a link to my autism blog on the right hand column "How Autism Changed Me". Start at the beginning and enjoy.

www.alphamomautism.blogspot.com

Solo Rarotonga

     Every time this year I get sick of the weather. March is one big "tease-fest", one day it's 60 degrees, the next day it's 20 degrees. It rains then it snows. I just can't take it! Therefore, I try to plan an escape to a tropical paradise. After four months of winter shivering I traveled to the Cook Island's in the south pacific. There is a place so exotic and far away that everyone I know asks "where!?!" So I just tell them that it's an island way south of Hawaii and virtually in the middle of nowhere. And then I tell them that I am going alone. "What!?!
    Yes, Rarotonga is my first solo trip. And Yes I loved it. A week of alone time was suprisingly exhilarating and exciting and relaxing and peaceful. I took long, slow, calm walks. I floated effortlessly in the shallow lagoon. I ate fruits right off the trees. I explored the jungle. I dived with some sharks. And I darn near died of heat poisoning.
    Regarding the ferocity of the blazing Rarotongan sun, there were times when I would have paid a hundred bucks for a fountain Diet Coke on ice, or a Popcicle, or a Snow Cone or even a tall glass of icy water. At these times I missed the cold of Utah. But as soon as I saw the inviting, clear blue of the lagoon I felt I could stay there forever. The island of Rarotonga is breathtakingly beautiful but if the ocean isn't within dunking distance the heat presses down like a steamy towel.
    When I returned home to Utah I felt the chill of a cool breeze, I breathed in the bone dry air and knew right away that this is where I want to be ten out of twelve months. Then I ate a whole jar of crisp, cold pickles with great satisfaction.

I stayed in a bungalow

darn near died inland

scuba dived to recover

kayaked to my own private islet

My Breakdown

I have been anticipating a breakdown for many years now. I have never had one but I know of some people who have, even in my own family. I guess it was just a matter of time before I ended up at the side of a road thinking about death......So there I was, on I-15 southbound, driving at a swift clip in the fast lane as always. Then I lost power, the RPM's flatlined and I had to guide my vehicle across three lanes of traffic to the shoulder. Except I was approaching a small incline in the highway and my momentum petered out. I found myself perched on an overpass, cement barrier on one side and eighteen wheelers from hell on the drivers side. There was an unending line of semi trucks, cement trucks, dump trucks, fuel trucks, all speeding within feet of my sardine can. As each behemoth invaded my safety bubble my whole car felt as if it would take flight and flip over the cement barrier. This is about the time I began thinking about death. Really it would take but a small distraction in the driver of a truck and I wouldn't feel a thing. I kept my eye on my rearview mirror guaging the trajectories of the oncoming vehicles. Just when I started to sort out an escape plan a police officer pulled up behind me. He walked up to my passenger window and told me that I sure chose a dangerous place to park. ha ha. Next he pushed me out of harm's way using the bumper of his patrol car.
After having my life flash before my eyes about 60 times I firmly decided to replace my beloved and aged BMW for a more "mature" vehicle. Two days later my master negotiator (Dave) and a car salesman went to battle over the purchase price of my new and lovely Lexus sedan. Hopefully I won't have a breakdown for another ten years. Mental breakdown? no guarantees

Sibs and Friends

Lately I have been thinking, really thinking. Usually I try not to go especially deep with my thoughts  regarding the past or the future because, frankly, both make me anxious. I don't have a handle on either one. Still I find myself examining the relationships I have with people; now, then and in the future. I notice that I am a finicky friend and tend to play it safe when conversations turn personal. I am a listening friend, not a sharing friend. Therefore friendships for me are superficial and fun. They come and go. Sibling relationships, however, are perpetual through thick and thin. I don't have to constantly maintain my alliances with each of my five sibs to know that they will always be there if I but reach out for them. The difference between mere friendships and strong sibships is that if I neglect a friendship it becomes unreliable and cool.Yet if I overlook my family for a time I know that they will still be there when I am ready to share a burden. The greatest aspect of having a big family is that each of us have a distinctive gift to give each other. Depending on our individual struggles there is always one of six who can be sympathetic to that particular obstacle. So, as a whole, my family offers solutions like a rainbow offers colors. I may not share everything with everyone but at least one of these colors are utilized depending on the flavor of my dilemma.

I have known my siblings all my life and each one of them is more valuable than any friend I could ever have.

Glamorous Park City

    The Beautiful People have arrived in Park City for the prestigious Sundance Film Festival. You can just feel the the gravity of the Big Hollywood hitters as they make their appearances around town. Red carpets, photo shoots, black limo's, exclusive parties. Oh the fame! And to think that I am a part of it all.
It feels so good to be so close to all that...whatever it is.
    Maybe if I scrub enough toilets and make enough beds my dad will let me go to the ball! But no, I would rather stay at the humble Chateau Apres and clean rooms than stand in line for a crappy film or go gaga over an anemic starlet. I'm pretty happy staying off Main Street this time of year.

Unexpected

Remember four weeks ago when Tanner actually needed medical intervention? When he split his scalp open after a particularly effective head-banging episode?  I took him to the Emergency Room because he had a laceration which I couldn't ignore (actually two nice, deep, bloody wounds to his noggin). We spent three long hours in a little room before anybody even touched him. Then after several "I'll be right back" statements from the ER doctor, four fresh and young medical people entered the room, burrito wrapped Tanner, and then a wide-eyed medical resident put six staples in Tanner's scalp; effectively sealing the wounds. Well, I didn't actually expect them to "probe" the wounds since the boy is, at his best, uncooperative. I asked if I could remove the staples myself, after a week, since I am a brave medical person myself and they let me leave with the handy staple remover gadget.

One week later I dutifully removed one staple at a time over the course of a couple of days (it was hard to get a good grip on a moving target). Curiously, there was still a rather large lump in one of Tanner's lacerations. I figured it was just healing tissue. Two weeks later there was something hard but small at the edge of the healed scar. I would push on it tenderly as Tanner laid on my lap as he went off to sleep. Soon I figured I would pick at him a little with tweezers or another pokey instrument but I could never get a good enough grip on whatever the "hard" thing was. Dave was curious as well and picked at the boy's head for over a week. Finally, a month after staples, Dave pulled out a sizable piece of chunky, hard plastic buried inside Tanner's scalp. The foreign object was obviously from some toy and not from the wall which I originally thought to be the culprit of the original injury. I am still at a loss as to where the orange piece of plastic came from.