Eight Days A Week...

" I looooooooooove you! Eight days a week...is not enough to show I care!"

Today is Eli's birthday! Eight years ago, a not-so-tiny bundle of 9 lb.s 14 oz and almost 24-inches long was placed in my arms. The much-anticipated day had finally arrived, and with Eli's appearance on the Sorensen family scene, things have never been quite the same. He has his sisters mesmerized and hypnotized by his savant personality. They call him 'Mr. E' because he keeps them guessing with what he will amaze them with next. He is his dad's best partner, buddy, and pal. They play ball together, they fish and camp together, they wrestle and tease,and they share a great love for the 'bedtime story'. And as for me, the mom, well, he had me from the first time our eyes met. He is my only boy, but he is also my best boy, my favorite boy, my boy above all others. He tells great knock-knock jokes, gives the best hugs, and lets me win at Dance, Dance Revolution. He is, my beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.

"One thing I can say, boy, love you all the time."

Today he turns eight. Eight is great! Not only is it the basis for a great hit by the Fab Four, but it's a special birthday that comes with special reponsibilites. My boy will be getting baptized soon. On Halloween. He can't wait. He's ready. He's prepared. He knows which gift this year will be the most important. It wasn't the wii lightsabers, or Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Not even the new scriptures. He reminded me last night, "the best present is coming...it's the Holy Ghost!' Ahh. He knows.

"Love you every day boy, got you on my mind."

Eight also brings scouting, the beginning of years and years of pow wows and pack meetings and Pinewood Derbies, merit badges and manhood training. I hope my son is ready to 'do his duty to God and his country, to help other people, and to obey the law of the pack.' With his dad as the Scoutmaster, we anticipate he will be receiving his Eagle in oh, about two weeks. We will get back to you on that.

"I ain't got nothing but love, babe, Eight days a week!"

Happy, Happy Birthday to my one and only Eli. May your eight be great...eight days a week!

Clambake...Gonna Have a Clambake...

Everyone who knows me knows I love Elvis movies. There's just something about them that makes me happy. Maybe it's his sly-come-hither stare with those deep blue eyes. Maybe it's his jet black hair. Maybe it's all the cool dancing and great singing. Maybe it's the fact that half of the time they end up on the beach. Guys with surfboards and girls in bikini's. Singing and eating, eating and singing. One of my all time favorites is "Clambake". Great movie, great beach scene, great song with great lyrics:

"Hey listen world you've got to know,

I'm cuttin' loose and lettin' go.

Who need the worry and the strife?

It can be a ball just now following my life."

Clambake, gonna have a clambake. Clambake, gonna have a clambake!"

Look for the brightest lights in town.

That's where you'll find me hangin' round.

I've got this feeling to be free.

I pick and choose the life I want and that's the life for me!

Clambake, gonna have a clambake. Clambake, gonna have a clambake!"

This weekend I came close to living my dream of going to a real clambake. My dad cooked a 'crab boil' especially for me. Crab legs, shrimp, bratwurst, corn on the cob and baby potatoes, all boiled up together in a big aluminum pot. Normally you dump it all out on newspapers, roll up your sleeves, and just dig in. As long as there is plenty of butter to dredge everything in, it's kind of like being in seafood heaven. The food was D.I.V.I.N.E. We had plenty of eating, but no singing. A few other things were also missing from my clambake. No Elvis, with his shy-come-hither stare. No deep blue eyes. No beach. No cool dancing. No guys with surfboards. And luckily, for everyone in attendance, no girls in bikinis, either. I'll save that for another day!

They Say it's Your Birthday...

"We're gonna have a good time."

Whitney turned twenty-two today. Not twenty-one. That was last year. Next year, it will be twenty-three. I hate to be cliche, but there is a lot of truth to the saying, 'time flies when you're having fun.' For the last twenty-two years, Whitney has contributed to us having fun as time flew all around us. We have laughed over Kip and Napolean discussing chapped lips and cage fighting. We have laughed over movies about men dating puppets. We have laughed about clowns and go-go boots and knock-knock jokes and various Disney movies about high school heart throbs and country hicks in blonde wigs who hit the big time! With Whitney around, laughter IS the best medicine. I hope she had a chance to laugh today, and that she made someone else laugh, too!

"I'm glad it's your birthday!"

We are miles apart on this great day of remembrance, but I'm still glad it's her birthday. Whitney's arrival was not without a bit of drama. 18 days late, almost 18 hours of L.A.B.O.R and the emergency c-section are still fresh in my mind. But the picture I choose to remember is one of a tiny pink bundle, precious and perfect and mine. All mine. Twenty-two years later that memory still makes me smile. And shed a tear or two. ,

"Happy Birthday to You!"

Tradition dictates that birthdays also bring gifts. Whitney opened a few presents from us today, but she has been a gift to us every day for the last twenty-two years. Long before she was born, I wished upon a candle for a 'secret something' I dreamed would come true. Something I hoped would come true. Whitney is proof that birthday candle wishes do come true. I hope she got to blow out some candles today. I hope someone sang her a birthday tribute. I hope she had some red velvet cupcakes. They are To. Die. For. And I wish and hope that the secret dreams she shared with her birthday candles will someday come true for her. Just like she came true for me.