Graduation

Tonight, my little girl will walk across a stage and descend the steps on the other side with a diploma in hand.

I don't think I'm an overly sentimental guy. 

Well...I did tear up during the season finale of Modern Family.

I cry every time George Bailey stands by the Christmas tree, ZuZu's petals in hand, as all of Bedford Falls gives him cash to make up for the missing money.

I can't help but choke up when I read about Scout realizing just who saved her and her brother, Jem, and she simply says, "Hey, Boo."

And I turn into a complete mess during the last 10 minutes of Toy Story 3.

Okay, I am overly sentimental.

But given that, I'm still surprised by how melancholy I'm feeling over Anya's impending graduation.  She just turned 18 a little over a week ago.  And I swear she was 10 years old just a few months before that.

I suppose it's not the graduation itself.  It's what's next.  And no, we're still not sure what exactly is next.  But whatever it is, it means our family as I know it now is going to change.  Anya will be on her own in some way, whether she's away at school or living with us next fall.  I won't have three girls coming home in the afternoon from school, telling tales at dinner about the great story a teacher told, or the annoying thing that know-it-all in the next row did, or the dork-o-riffic thing the students did on Channel One that morning.  I'll have two girls sharing those events, and one who's beginning the next chapter of her own story.

Yeah, I know, she's still part of our family, she might even be living with us, we have too much fun for her to abandon us completely.  That's all true.  I'm really grateful that, by the immense grace of God, we've raised a girl who not only wants to be with us, but is a quality girl that we really like being around, too.

But no matter what, she's growing up.  Her life, while forever intertwined with ours, is slowly spinning outward in new directions, into unseen territories.  Home will be an anchor, a cornerstone, a comfy couch even.  And eventually, she'll establish her own home, start her own family, her own traditions, ones hopefully informed and influenced by her time with us, and hopefully expressive of her own unique wants, desires, and attitudes.

It feels like it all begins tonight, as Pomp & Circumstance plays, and she marches in a green robe, a tassel swinging before her face.

I know it doesn't begin tonight.  It began 18 years ago.  It's just all very present tonight.

But I can tell you for sure -- I am NOT watching Toy Story 3 anytime in the near future.

What Fifty-One Looks Like

This weekend was a big one.

Friday was "May the Fourth Be With You" day.

Saturday was Cinco De Mayo.

And Sunday was the most glorious day of all -- my beloved's 51st birthday.

However, Sundays (and this one in particular) are a little crazy in Smithereens land, so we chose to mark the anniversary of Karen's birth on May 5th.  And what better way to celebrate a birthday on Cinco De Mayo than by eating Mexican food.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We spent the celebratory birthday morning eating oatmeal pancakes.  Why?  Because they are so dang tasty.  And they're made with oatmeal so they're healthy!  And no, you paleo fanatics, they're not even close to caveman approved.  We don't care.

After breakfast, the girls did a whirlwind round of chores (I'm not sure anything got super clean...although Jenna did show me the vacuum dust bin after doing the living room and it was disturbingly disgusting.  I'm both exhilarated that our vacuum sucks up that much stuff after just one week and appalled that our carpet accumulates that much in one week.  It's not like we live in Oklahoma in the 30s), and once we were all cleansed, dressed, and coiffed, we piled into the Santa Fe and headed to Park City.

Why Park City?  Because, as I previously mentioned, Karen wanted Mexican food for her birthday, her fave mexican place is Loco Lizard (only in Park City) and it was Cinco De Mayo so perhaps there would be some sort of spectacular fiesta special -- like half-price nachos, or bottomless margaritas, or free college tuition.  Turns out there was none of the above...although I think if our girls had offered to do some sort of line dance on a table, there were some patrons there who had the resources to give  tips that could have definitely helped out with college.  For whatever reason, they did not volunteer to perform any sort of tango, salsa or meringue for the edification of Loco Lizard's patrons. 

Pity.  It would have been a riveting retelling, I assure you.

Instead we ordered our food (full price, mind you.  Why were they not celebrating Mexican independence...or whatever it is that Cinco De Mayo commemorates?  I thought it was a requirement:  you serve chips and salsa, you give away something free on May 5th.  Okay, I'm letting it go now), and commenced the opening of the gifts.

She got several lovely cards, a couple of coffee gift cards, some chocolate and some cash.  We didn't sing happy birthday, and our waiter (the less-than-friendly, but very capable, Matt) did not put a sombrero on her head, bring her a calorie-laden dessert, nor gather his compadres to sing some sort of uncomfortable but mildly entertaining proprietary version of the birthday song.  We just enjoyed the festivities on our own in the booth.

Soon, our delectable meals arrived.

They really were delicious, although I'm not sure this picture is evidence of such.  You'll just have to trust me on this one.

And what takes place after such delights?  A trip to the outlet mall, of course, just a stones throw from the restaurant.  Because nothing says "birthday celebration" like a trip to Eddie Bauer outlet.

After the five us dug through clearance racks and discounted merchandise at several stores, and walked away with bargains in hand for everyone, we headed to Starbucks to obtain fuel for the long drive back to Orem.

And because Starbucks is having a special, although not for Cinco De Mayo.  I'm not sure exactly why they're doing it, but every day until May 14, they have half-price frappacinos from 3-5pm.  And since we were leaving town about 4pm, that marvelous mix of espresso, sugar and milk was on the menu. 

Coffee (or coffee flavored shakes -- I mean, let's be honest, that's what they are) in hand, we loaded up the SUV again and headed back down to reality.

Happy birthday, to my sexy, strong, kind, and enthusiastic wife.  You make our lives more fun just by being around.