Summer Time

Summer time in Utah - especially early in the season - can be really spectacular. The days are warm but not too hot, everything is green, and baby animals can be seen just about everywhere.

I have great memories of when I was a kid and playing outside under a seemingly never-setting sun, the cool grass under my feet, and the sound of laughter floating through the air.

We moved to Utah so our kids could have those kinds of memories as well. And I'm happy to say they are.

School House Rock

Maybe it's 13 years of grammar and high school, 4 of college and 2 of grad school, but for me the year still starts in September and ends in May. The end of the year just happened for me.

Although I've always been a huge proponent of public schools, I feel incredibly lucky that this year the boys attended Saint Sophia Hellenic Orthodox School - it's the parochial school housed at Prophet Elias, where we go to church.

The progress both boys made in 180 days is astounding.

Sure, I can tell you how in those 9 months Gus advanced two full reading levels, mastered basic math concepts, and gained a rudimentary understanding of history, science and geography. I can attest how Niko learned to write his name, recognize all his colors, and gained a basic idea of mathematics and language arts. I can even tell you how they've both tackled the basics of Greek language, and have a much better understanding of their Orthodox Christian faith.

But most of those milestones could be achieved at any number of schools. What the boys really gained from their year at Saint Sophia can't be tested; it can't be scored. The boys strengthened their sense of belonging and self worth. They learned what it means to be accepted and embraced...and to accept and embrace. They gained self confidence.

And in my humble opinion, that's an education everyone should receive.



Gus as Cobweb in Saint Sophia's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream



Niko as a Pixie in the play

Everybody poops

As soon as Niko was completely potty trained I vowed never to change another diaper in my life. And I haven't. Instead, today I picked up dog poop, guinea pig poop and chicken poop. Really? Were diapers all that bad??

I love you egg man!

If you've ever seen the very, very warped 1972 John Waters' film, "Pink Flamingos" you immediately recognized the reference made in the title of today's blog. Edie loves the egg man! (If you've never seen the film, and you have even the slightest weak stomach, you're going to want to pass...)

Well Edie is going to love us! We've become egg men! A couple of weeks ago we decided to join the growing number of people with backyard chickens.

Our three chicks won't start laying eggs until the end of the year - so don't send your orders in just yet.

Oh, and as a reflection of the weirdness that is our household, when hearing the chicks needed female names Niko offered "Yia yia Peeps", Gus added "Eleni" and I said, "Good lord, boys, we're Americans!" And thus the third became "Mabel."

Bawk, bawk, bawk!


Here are the girls when they first moved in. Now they're in that awkward adolescent stage - all legs and just growing feathers.

Remember Al Smith

I lit a candle this morning at church for Geraldine Ferraro, who died on Saturday. For those of you not old enough or who may not remember, Rep. Ferraro was the first woman on a major political party presidential ticket. Nearly a quarter century before Sen. McCain hoisted former-Governor Sarah Palin onto the national stage, former-Vice President Walter Mondale plucked Gerri Ferraro out of obscurity and into the history books in an attempt to kick-start his moribund presidential campaign.

Clearly she led the way for Palin. But also for Hillary Clinton's historic presidential run. And the appointment of women like Madeleine Albright and Condoleezza Rice to powerful positions. It could even be argued that she opened the door for President Barak Obama.

Sooner or later a woman will be elected president or vice president, and I fear
Geraldine Ferraro will become Al Smith. Everyone knows that in 1960 John F. Kennedy became the first Catholic elected president. Yet 32 years earlier, in 1928, Gov. Al Smith, paved the way when he became the first Catholic presidential nominee.

But Ferraro will always hold a special place in my heart: Mondale/Ferraro was the first presidential ticket for which I ever voted. Yeah, they went down in the biggest electoral landslide since 1936, carrying just Minnesota and DC, but that vote is still the one I'm proudest of.

The Very Definition of Stubborn

I am thoroughly convinced that one day in the future, people looking for the definition of the word "stubborn" will find a picture of Niko. It may even provide an example:

1. unreasonably obstinate
2. fixed or set in purpose or opinion
3. obstinately maintained
4. being of or like Niko Huntington-Katis




I can't claim that I wasn't warned. My friend Ed informed me when Gus was still a baby that it's not so much the Terrible Twos that parents need to be aware of, but the $%&#ing Fours!

This month alone Niko has refused to wear certain pants, demanded specific cutlery, insisted on exact amounts of food, declined to attend church lest he participate in the procession of icons on the Sunday of Orthodoxy, and commanded that he would wash his own hair! I won't even go into his lack of interest in rehearsing for the school's Greek Independence Day program.

This behavior is maddening...and so much like me at times it's scary.

So I'm trying to help him work toward being less demanding, less rigid in his needs. And by doing so, I hope I'm helping myself. Because I'm not sure I've still got his loveability factor!

It's Greek to Him

When I was in college, I did a little volunteering for the Utah Food Bank. I got started when they needed someone willing to deliver Christmas baskets to families living in what was then the far reaches of the Valley - places like Draper and Sandy. One of the gals I'd met on the Frances Farley campaign worked there, knew I lived in Midvale and gave me a call.

When I went to pick up the baskets, my friend wasn't working. Another woman was standing in the warehouse, barking orders at the volunteers. I approached her and told her I was Ann's friend. She asked me my name, and as she ran her finger down the list on her clipboard said, "Katis? That Greek?"

I confirmed and she replied that her ex-husband was Greek, which made her Greek by injection. I turned every shade of red known to mankind.

But it was the first time that I realized people do "become" Greek. I mean I guess I always knew that: take my mom for example. She's become frightfully, frightfully Greek (though I very much prefer to think it was from a lifetime of indoctrination versus, well, you know...that other way).

So I knew there was hope for Kelly...no matter how dim.

But after two decades together, I'd all but given up. Then it happened. Slowly, ever so slowly, his Greekness started to come out.

At first it was subtle: he started correctly using the word "kaleevi" (which means "hut" but colloquially in our family is "pantry"). Then he started buying frozen spanakopita and tiropita at Costco.

But the real break through occurred a couple of weeks ago. The Pan-Arcadian Federation held our annual makaronada (best translated as "spaghetti feed.") Kelly came to help out, and staffed the drinks table with me. We offered a lovely selection of wine, grape juice and fruit punch. After a while Kelly noticed that the food line had diminished and suggested I go get something to eat; he'd handle the drinks.

As I'm standing in line, I look over at him and what should my little brown eyes behold? Kelly opening a bottle of wine! It was the first bottle of wine he'd ever opened. It was complete: Kelly was Greek.

And as if to prove the point, this last weekend, he made me pasta with burned butter and Parmesan/Romano cheese for dinner (a last hooray before going vegan for Lent). The butter was burned perfectly! I later learned he'd thought he'd let it go too far, until Gus wisely stepped in and gently encouraged him to let it burn a little longer.

The best thing about his conversion is that once it's happened, there's no turning back. Once you're a Greek, everything else is just weak!

Tonight as we watched some TV, Kelly mentioned he was a little worried about Gus' Scout meeting tomorrow night. They're learning about the food pyramid, and as vegetarians we do have issues with a pyramid that puts meat about equal to fruits and veggies. But his biggest concern stemmed from the possibility someone would bring in a goat to slaughter.

Then I reminded him, "Not during Lent, dear."