A Very Merry Christmas

From our family to yours.

Long Weekend

Today I asked Ian what he wants for Christmas.

Me: What do you want for Christmas Ian?
Ian: A Jet Pack
Me: A Jet Pack? What is that?
Ian: You know, it's a backpack and it shoots fire out the bottom so you can fly.
Me: Ummm . . . pretty sure those exist only in the movies.
Ian: Yeah unless I grow up and invent them.

Today I admonished Isaac to not go outdoors with no shoes on.

Me: Don't go outside.
Isaac: I want to!
Me: It's winter and you don't have shoes on.
Isaac: But my feet are hungry to go outside with no shoes on.

On Thanksgiving, my kids ate the following:
Turkey, rolls, olives and ice-cream sans pie. Are you kidding me right now? The day after Thanksgiving they visited their grandparents' house and were offered a lunch of Thanksgiving leftovers. Instead, they ate tortilla chips with melted cheese. What the?

Question: Can girls begin puberty at the age of eight?

And, finally, a true story that happened to me today. An editor at the newspaper called me with some questions. The entire time I was trying to talk to him, a certain four-year-old who shall not be named was screaming at me and throwing matchbox cars in my direction to get my attention because working from home is sometimes awesome like that. I apologized for the noise and he said, "No worries. I'm so jealous actually. I'm an empty nester now." So, after I hung up, I hugged my four-year-old a little tighter.

Kids.

My Name is Ian

My wish:
To Learn to Fly

What I like Most about school:
My teacher

My Favorite food:
Pizza

Favorite Animal:
Dinosaur

A person I admire:
My mom

I like: Math

What I do Well:
Ride my bike

Autobiography by Ian
My name is Ian. This week I turn seven. One of my favorite places is Classic Fun. In my backyard I made a giant leaf pile and rode my bike through it. I took a trip to China and learned a little Chinese when I was four. I have a cookbook that I can make lots of treats from. I have a sister who is eight, a brother who is four and a baby sister. My baby sister is really cute and whatever she grabs she sucks on. My dad is a photographer and he published a book called "I Am Ogden," with a picture of me in the very back. I like to go to Bear Lake and Eat Doritos. I play the piano. The end.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY E-MAN!

I Love This Time of Year

Hope everyone is enjoying the end of Fall.

I hope to be back to blogging (and reading blogs soon). Whew! Having four kids is whipping me. Good thing I love them so much.

How Bold Are You Today?

When we lived in China, the Deseret News hired Brian to cover Gov. Huntsman's trade mission in Beijing. I, of course, hauled myself and the family along and was rewarded with a first-class stay at the Ritz Carlton.

Brian was detained around the clock documenting the Governor's every move. So, I took those kids, ages 5, nearly 4 and 1, and we spent our days exploring the city. Isaac rode in a baby backpack and Sophie and Ian took turns riding in the umbrella stroller I was pushing.

Nowadays, the very thought of such an excursion makes me have to go lie down from exhaustion. Who was that girl? Where did she get her energy?


(Isaac hanging upside down on daddy's back while we wait in line at a wedding reception)

Tonight, I snuggled Katie up in the ergo, put the other three on scooters and we headed over to the elementary school for a little carnival. Well, the other three were suppose to be on scooters, but, since Isaac had just woken up from an unexpected nap, I mostly carried his scooter and from time to time carried him and he cried the entire walk. I found myself wondering how many more years there are before I'm done hauling kids to school carnivals? I remembered the girl who had purposely ventured out into Beijing, only knowing three phrases in Chinese. Who was she anyways?
(Isaac and Izzy prepare to take Steve's car for a joyride)

We survived the slew of goodies and the long lines to play on inflatables and then began our leisurely walk back home. As I walked home, I remembered boarding an escalator with my three tiny children and my stroller in a crowded mall in Beijing and looking up to see a Levi's ad sporting some hot models and their pet alligator that posed the question, "How Bold Are You?"

Gee, I was feeling pretty jazzed up bold right at that moment and that statement, "How Bold Are You" resonated through my mind and helped me get through the day.

But, the more and more I thought about the question, the more and more I felt a little guilty for my pride. The more and more I realized that it took a lot more boldness to brave the quiet trials of motherhood when I had my first two babies a mere 20-months apart. When I often wondered if I was a complete failure and if anyone else had ever had such dark days of motherhood? Those lonely days took much more courage than a day in Beijing with three small children and all the high rollers from the trade mission standing around in their suits high-fiving me for my boldness.

(The kids [Sophie] enjoying an ice-cream sundae party to celebrate their completion of a marathon -- in which the parents -- mostly meaning me -- haul the kids to the track 26 times so that they can complete a mile each day)

(Then, said kids are finally rewarded with an ice-cream party and little trophies though sometimes it is even more of a marathon for the parents -- aka me -- to coax them into running a mile than it is for the kids to run a mile -- Lexy and Manthy pose with their trophies)

And, tonight, when I remembered those thoughts that I had on that day in Beijing, it brought me a little comfort. Because, I find that I'm kind of back to those long days when the baby is teething and the four-year-old is giving you a run for your money and so on and so forth.

And, even as I ask myself if the season of school carnivals and other such noisy and messy fiascos will ever end, I see a little old lady standing there all alone admiring my little ones, saying, "I miss the days when I was a young mother . . ."

Deep down inside, I know.

These are the days to remember.

Four Years Old

I never want to forget Isaac's excitement during our first few hours at the cabin. He was all over the place, saying, "Look at me mom! Look at how I can sit on the bed! And, lay on the bed! And jump between beds! And, run across the nightstand between beds! Look mom, look, look, look at me!!!" Then it was out to the porch for some, "Look mom! Look at how I can walk on the porch! See how I can tiptoe? See how I can run? Look, look, look at me!!!" And so on and so forth.

Into the nighttime hours he was still walking around, chest puffed out like a peacock, saying things like, "Yeah, we live here now. This is our new home." When we packed up on Sunday, he cried genuine tears of sadness over leaving.

All three of my older kids entertained themselves by collecting rocks throughout the weekend. Ian ended up with a huge ziplock baggie full and notions about selling the largest ones for a big profit when we got home. Brian said we should leave all the rocks there because it's such a hassle to have rocks floating all over the house (where they always seem to end up in spite of the "keep them outside" rule). But, I thought we should let them pick a few favorites to take home. It seems like our kids are always collecting rocks right now, but, in a blink of an eye, rocks will no longer hold the same magic for them anymore. Soon it will be IPODs and then cars and dates and off to college before we know it. Then I'm sure we will miss the days when rock collections graced our home.

Even this morning, as the kids were getting ready, they had those rocks out, rinsing and polishing them. Discussing which ones were igneous and which ones were sedimentary and wagering on which ones were solid marble. Now Sophie and Ian are off to their first day of school. Katie is sleeping. Isaac is in the tub. And, I am daydreaming about more days like this one. When things are just a little bit quieter and calmer and lunch at a girlfriend's house is a real possibility.

The Best of Times

Friday afternoon, we began our ascent up Logan Canyon and I said the same thing I always say to my kids:

"Get ready to drive through one of the most beautiful canyons in the world!"

I can't help it. Of all the picturesque places I've visited, this canyon must be one of the prettiest. And, I hope it's one of those silly memories that will stick with them when they are adults. Driving through Logan Canyon with me.

We arrived at a lovely log cabin in Southern Idaho in the early evening and as soon as we pulled up I knew I was going to love our time there. Everything was perfect. A wrap around porch with a view. Picture windows facing the mountains. A loft with pitched ceilings that was a magical place for the older kids to bed down with their cousins.

My dad grilled succulent steaks on the charcoal BBQ while the rest of my siblings arrived. We had a carnivore feast accompanied by all manner of yummy side dishes and desserts.

Saturday was a perfect day at the lake. Bear Lake with it's gorgeous aquamarine water and sand that is just right for digging. The day was hot. But, also overcast so it wasn't too hot.

That evening, back at the cabin, there was more feasting. More four-wheeling and Ian riding his red bike on the dirt roads and trails. More quiet meditation under the stars.

It all ended too soon when we had to pack our things this morning and drive home. Back in Logan Canyon, it was raining hard and a thin fog rested around the majestic cliffs making it even more beautiful. We drove through the section where the trees make a tunnel over the road and I looked to my right at the river rushing by. I thought about my own childhood and memories of trips taken through that very canyon to Bear Lake. A childhood that is now past. And, I thought about my children. Two of them go back to school tomorrow. Another summer passed.

I reflected on the summer and decided it was the best of times and also the worst of times. Having a May baby was a delight. And, summers with my kids are my favorite time of year. There was also a lot of fighting, chaos, exhaustion and mess to deal with. Too many kids. A lesson learned that I'm not ready to take on seven for a summer break.

I thought about how Kindergarten Ian is gone forever. I really loved Kindergarten Ian with his dimples and stick straight Dutch-boy blonde hair. Before he lost any baby teeth. A boy who was eager to please and obey all the rules. Who daydreamed in numbers and equations. His long fingers flying over the piano keys while his feet didn't even touch the floor. Those same fingers feeling the fringes of his car blankie as we laid together at bedtime. My peacemaker Ian.

Katie Jane is 3-months old today. Sleeping through the night (knock on wood), calm, bright blue eyes and smiles. She's ready to roll over any day. We are all drawn to her tranquility. And, I melt at the way she is such a novelty to the other kids. "Mom, can Katie watch me come down the slide? Here I come Katie! Did you see that Katie!? Did you see me come down the slide to you?"

Sophie has adopted a Punky Brewster-esque style of clothing. As in, she tries to see how many different colors of the rainbow she can wear at one time. Including mismatched stockings and different colored rubber bands in her pony tails.

Isaac, ever adventurous, is still mesmerizing me with his baby blue eyes.

We drove through the canyon and I thought about this summer. The trip to the cabin was the perfect ending to summer break.

We didn't visit Pineview Reservoir once a week as I had hoped. But, we did manage to take two boating trips to lakes. We didn't hike as much as I had planned. But, we did make it to our beloved Birdsong Trail once. And, we still have the fall. We didn't go swimming much because I didn't feel ready to brave the pool with all four, but, the kids did spend lots of time sweating on the inflatables and the skating rink of Classic Fun. We didn't spend too many nights in a tent, but, we did spend days at Tony Grove (and, nights at a hotel in Logan -- my kind of camping with a new baby!) and evenings roasting hot dogs and s'mores in our own backyard. We tried something new one day when we visited the art building at Weber State University. The gallery was closed for the summer, but, we explored, rode the old fashioned elevator, enjoyed whatever art we could find, and sketched some totem pole statues in our sketch books. Then we fed the ducks and fled from a gang of angry geese. All things considered, it was mostly the best of times.

Gifts

Sunday night was the annual pop's concert and fireworks show at Weber State University.

Tens of thousands of people come and literally cover every inch of grass at the university with their blankets. All surrounding parking lots, yards, etc. are also filled with spectators for this event.

As we prepared to attend, I explained to my kids that some people in our community (the Lindquist's) have a lot of money. So, one thing they decided to do with their money is to give everyone a gift -- this awesome fireworks show -- every year.

What a great gift.

A college friend of mine who I only see once per year or so, contacted me to see if we could attend the show together with our families. I was so excited to see her, and then she made me even more happy by calling me to say that her family is good friends with the Ligoris (who own Ligori's Pizza and Pasta) and we were all invited to his restaurant for basically Sunday dinner Ligori family style.

Mr. Ligori (who looks like Danny DeVito) filled the restaurant with guests and treated us all to a nice meal. Afterwards, the kids were invited out to the parking lot for carnival games and some pretty sweet prizes. Then, we set up our lawn chairs right there in the parking lot and had a front row view of the fireworks show.

What a great gift.

My friend took a picture of us right after there was a short downpour of rain while waiting for the fireworks to begin (another advantage of our set-up -- sending unhappy wet children to the van to wait out the storm) and posted it on her blog with the nicest tribute to the many beautiful women who have bestowed their friendship on her life.

Lately, I too have been thinking of the many, many amazing friends I have been blessed to have in my lifetime. Being with my friend Chris reminded me of all the fun we use to have in college. The way her laugh comes so easily. And, the way she makes everyone feel like they are special.

My life is abundantly blessed with amazing, beautiful women right now who help me grow spiritually in ways I never imagined possible. I missed my mom and my exercising buddies and Joy School mom friends and my priceless Neighbor Lady and the lunch group gals more than I can say when my family moved to China. How wonderful it was to come back home and bask in the rays of their friendship.

It is not possible to write this post without talking about the women I taught English in Russia with so many years ago. Just last week, we met up for a reunion. What is it? About 15 years now? (sheesh) I had no idea back when I was a freshly graduated from high school just starting college gal how much these ladies would truly impact my life. What amazing examples they have been in both the past and the present. That experience, and the friends I made while there, definitely shaped my life for the better. It was wonderful to see them again. Though one evening was way too short.

Some people go their entire lives with only one or two good friends. I feel so blessed to have had so many.

What a gift.

2009 Farmer's Market Begins

Yesterday was the first day of the Farmer's Market in Ogden -- a pretty exciting event in my world.

It took me an hour-and-a-half to make it out the door accomplishing the following:

Me: fed, dressed, some make-up
Katie: fed, dressed, clean diaper
Sophie: fed, dressed, hair brushed
Ian: fed, dressed, hair brushed
Isaac: cereal in a baggie, striped P.J.s with a Hawaiian shirt over the top (what he slept in), hair not brushed

Sophie, Ian and Isaac: still donning traces of Hawaiian fruit punch on their faces from a party the night before

An hour-and-a-half just to get out the door I tell ya! You'd think we would have been ready for family portraits instead of only half presentable to the world.

Embrace it.

The Farmer's Market was the most crowded that I have ever seen it. The street with the produce vendors was shoulder to shoulder human traffic. I carried Katie in the Ergo and the other three were surprisingly courteous and mindful about staying near me on their scooters. I felt a little out of sorts in that sea of humanity. It was not so easy to relax and pick through vegetables while trying to keep an eye on all of those kids. Which is, perhaps, why I walked all the way to the end and bought my produce at a lone booth where it wasn't so crowded. I bet that guy was happy. And, Brian made his famous fried potatoes last night and they were amazing. Home grown potatoes are so much tastier.

The good news about the crowds is that Brian is selling his Ogden Book at the Farmer's Market. So, more exposure, right?

I found two booths selling flower hair clips and had to buy one from each vendor for Katie. I think I'll have to buy at least one every week from here on out (did you hear that Photoguy?). Sigh. It's so nice to have one daughter who (for now) will let me dress her and fix her up any way that I please.

I adore the Farmer's Market. It's become sort of a mid-summer through early fall tradition for me. It delights me from head to toe. The brightly colored stacks of produce, intoxicating smells of blooming flowers and fresh picked herbs, the luscious flavors -- honey on a stick, dripping slices of peaches, homemade salsas, Beehive Cheddar, old fashioned rootbeer -- not to mention the fabulous culinary adventures to be had at home after the purchases are made.

I love hearing live music from the stage, seeing the arts and crafts by talented tradesmen and youngsters out to peddle their wares (i.e. Sophie bought a 50-cent shrinky dink keychain from someone about her age). I enjoy seeing our community out and about on a Saturday morning, baskets on arms, gathering treasures (though, I wouldn't mind seeing a teensy bit less of our community on Saturdays yet to come . . . or, leave the kids with a sitter). I always see friends and neighbors.

Yesterday, the kids were fascinated with the man selling honey and his glass encasement of bees in the process of making it. Sometimes, there is a 4-H demonstration for them to participate in making something.

In the spring months, I admit, I had a bit of a love affair with strawberries. Homemade jam on everything, and strawberry banana smoothies. Then, watermelon and corn on the cob hit the scene. I've got a whole lotta blueberries in my refrigerator right now. Could anything be finer than fresh blueberries on a bowl of cereal? Cherries -- mmm-mmm. And, now, the whole Farmer's Market has come to town!

In other, unrelated news.

It seems that Katie Jane, who will be two-months-old at the end of the week, decided over the weekend that I'm her favorite. As in, she only wants me to hold her. And, last night when I was rocking her, she swiveled her face upwards so she could look at me and then broke out in a joyful grin.

Another pretty exciting event in my world.

Embracing the Present

"[Motherhood and Homemaking] is surely, in reality, the most important work in the world. What do ships, railways, miners, cars, government etc exist for except that people may be fed, warmed, and safe in their own homes? . . . [The homemaker's] job is the one for which all others exist"

~Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis

I came across this quote today and I liked it. It made me feel like, I don't have to move mountains every day to be a successful mother and homemaker. Keeping my loved ones fed, safe and warm? Now, that I can do.

Sometimes I am way too dramatic in my worries.

For example, recently, we've been more drawn to the T.V. than usual. In fact, a couple of times last week, after a long day of looking after seven, when the evening of my husband working the late shift began, we found ourselves staring at the Discovery channel (we just got cable - so novel) for a few rousing rounds of "Cash Cab" and "How it's Made." It turns out that my kids love these two shows and I don't mind them either.

In my mind, I berated myself. "Too much T.V.!" My inner voice shouted. "You are training your kids to be couch potatoes. When they are teenagers, they will do nothing but sit on the couch and watch T.V. every single night. And, they will be overweight. And, they will never listen to a thing you say. And, they will have no self-esteem and diabetes and no success and never get married and it will be all your fault!" My horrid perpetuater of mommy-guilt warned.

Then, the other day, a new thought occurred to me:

"What if I embraced this season of my life for what it is?"

What if I admitted that I am just a little bit tired and I cut myself some slack? What if we made a standing date for "Cash Cab" and "How it's Made" now and then when I babysit and Brian works late? What if we celebrated this event by eating toast (easy prep + less dishes + kids don't complain) for dinner and popcorn and hot chocolate for dessert? Could it be that maybe, just maybe, we won't still be parked in front of the T.V. most evenings of the week six-months from now? And, that my children will grow up well adjusted with normal lives in spite of these few weeks of brain rotting T.V. indulgence? And, maybe we will even have great memories of relaxing and watching T.V. together while their daddy worked late, later on when they have grown into vibrant successful beautiful teenagers.

For now, you may find me rocking my baby with my little ones cuddled around me. And, we might be learning "How it's Made," or seeing who is the next big winner in the "Cash Cab." Fed, safe and warm.

I'll save moving mountains for another day.

Rebroadcast

The radio spot went really well this morning and turned out to be a very positive segment on Ogden. Katie and I got to watch the live broadcast through a glass window, which was pretty cool since I've never done anything like that before. I got to meet Bill Allred (from X96) again, for the second time. He strikes me as very friendly in person. The hour-long piece will be rebroadcast tonight at 7 p.m. on 90.1.

Radio Spot

Brian will be the featured guest on 90.1 tomorrow (Monday) at 11 a.m. He will talk about his book for 15-minutes and then other guests will discuss Ogden until noon.

Dog Days of Summer

Have I mentioned that most days there are six scooters strewn across my front lawn or back patio? I love seeing this pack of kids wheeling up and down the sidewalk.

Summer is officially here. The other day, Isaac scurried onto the top of the van (a habit of his that we are trying to break) and started to shriek because the metal was scorching hot. Lesson learned?

My kids have been singing "Puff the Magic Dragon" and, "I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane," after a recent attempt to clean up the garage uncovered a Peter, Paul and Mary soundtrack. It's funny to hear them singing the same songs I grew up listening to -- on my parents' 8-track. I think Peter, Paul and Mary were the oldies when I was their age.

Speaking of being old, Sophie was asking me, "Why does she have to leave on a jet plane?" We were discussing the many possibilities and then I said, "Oh, I know, maybe it was like when I left on a jet plane to go work in Washington D.C. when your dad and I were dating." That led to a discussion about what I was doing in Washington D.C., and, just to make my daughter think I was cool, I started bragging about working at the Capitol, and she said, "Wow mom! Did you meet the president!?" She was thinking I was pretty cool and I was feeling so proud of myself and the next words out of her mouth were, "Was it when Kennedy was president?" Well, that kind of took the wind out of my sails. "Ummm . . . no, he was the president when your grandparents were your age sweetie."

Yesterday we made this perfect play doh:

2 cups flour
1 cup salt
1/2 cup cornstarch
1 tablespoon alum
1 tablespoon cooking oil
2 cups water

Combine in a pan and cook over low heat, stirring constantly. Knead when thickened.

Then, let the kids pick their own colors and work the food coloring in. It's magic. And, if you have a plastic spider and a three-year-old (or, two), pressing the spider into the dough and screaming "Look a spider!" Followed by everyone screaming, "Ahhh! A spider!" can provide at least an hour of entertainment (for the three-year-old(s) -- you may not be quite as entertained).

We had an afternoon backyard run through the sprinklers. In the end, Izzy and Isaac used the hose to turn the beach (sandbox) into the ocean (filled it with water and splashed around). Yes my friends, the dog days of summer are finally here.

Smiles

This is Katie in her blessing gown two weeks ago (she was two weeks old).

We had a few friends and all of our family over for a BBQ afterwards. It rained. So, the meal was moved indoors at the last minute. It was pretty amazing to see 50 people squeeze into our tiny house!

The kids were resourceful and took their plates of food and sat under our extra tall table. Pretty funny sight to see them all camped under there.

Brian was a trooper to cook all of the meat on the grill in the pouring rain.

My friend brought a bundt cake from "Nothing Bundt Cakes." So yummy. Here is their ode to a bundt cake:

You're so round
Your taste profound
Yet sadly, sadly
You never stick around.

That about sums up that lovely and quickly devoured cake.

Brian is just finishing up the Ragnar Relay as I type. This is his 5th year in a row participating in this crazy race that starts near Logan and ends in Park City and takes (on average) more than 24-hours to complete. There are 12 runners, and each runner runs three legs of the race.

The kids had a "late-over" which turned into a sleepover with their friends last night. We had a lot of fun playing games at the park with cousins followed by a movie, popcorn, cookies and staying up l-a-t-e. It's been a good weekend. We cleaned up the house to surprise Brian when he gets home.

Just when I thought life couldn't get any better, the angel pictured in this post flashed me a crooked grin. Her first
S
M
I
L
E
.

The Ergo

The replacement strap for my Ergo baby carrier arrived, and I am loving it!


This is the one piece of baby gear I don't know how I ever lived without when my first two were little.

When Sophie and Ian got a little bit older, I could often be found cooking dinner, doing the dishes, or hiking the trails with one of them in my baby backpack. But, they have to be about six-months-old before they go in there. When they were tiny, I tried every front pack carrier I could get my hands on. I didn't like the strain they put on my shoulders. Even the sling that many others raved about was uncomfortable to me. I never did try a "wrap" though I've heard good things about those.

I discovered the Ergo right before Isaac was born. And, I absolutely love it because it snuggles my babies right up close to me and puts all of the weight on my hips like the baby backpack does. It grows right along with your child so that, when they are older, you can use it to carry them on your back or even on your hip. I have to admit that I've never mastered the art of using the Ergo on my back or my hip. Once Isaac reached six-months, I just switched back to the backpack because it is what I knew. But, my sister-in-law still uses her Ergo from time to time to carry her three-and-a-half-year-old around on her back or her hip.

It's so wonderful to carry your infant and be hands free! Katie is sleeping against my chest in the Ergo as I type this. And, I just threw a load of laundry into the washer and prepared a potluck dish for a family get together later this afternoon. Yesterday, I used it at the grocery store and at the arts festival (very useful when I had to use my free hands to carry an over-tired, over-hungry Isaac out to the car at the end). Half a dozen people stopped me to inquire about my nifty carrier. I don't mean to turn into such an infomercial when people admire it. But, I love my Ergo!

What piece of baby gear can you not live without?

Summer Adventures Part I

I love summer storms. Today, we sat on the front porch and enjoyed a magnificent view of our mountains blanketed in spring green with low hanging storm clouds hovering over the peaks while occasional sprinkles filled the gutter.

Is the green more vivid this year than in years past? This is my favorite spring in memory. Perhaps a May baby makes it so.

The kids and I have enjoyed many lightning storms from the porch in the past few weeks. I think we must have some of the most spectacular T-storms in the world here on the Wasatch Front. I've loved watching lightning shows since I was a kid.

Something else I am loving right now: My kids listening to Janeen Brady's Standing Tall series. Am I the only one who grew up on these ditties, like, Mr. Did and Mr. Didn't singing in the Land of Obey? And, Do You Know About Grandpa Gum?

Sophie just discovered the third track where they leave out one of the character's lines and she can read along like she is part of the story. She loves it. I loved that too when I was her age. I love that she loves it.

Our summer adventures began Monday morning with a trip to the Treehouse Children's Museum. Two of my sisters-in-law, one brother-in-law and all of their kids (eight between them) made the trip to Ogden, so, I loaded up my crew to meet them. I was babysitting, but, my friends' oldest daughter was ill and spent the day with her grandma.

After losing each of my three-year-olds one at a time and each of them throwing a screaming tantrum (all of this in the first 10-minutes), we settled into a routine and had a most enjoyable time. So much fun in fact, that we stayed for FOUR hours!

I think these excursions will be even better when I get the replacement strap for my ergo (the carrier that deserves a post of its own, so great is my love for it), and, when I get more comfortable feeding Katie in public.

No sooner had we arrived home, fed everyone a late lunch, given Katie a nice long feeding and laid her down for a nap, then my parents called and invited us to Pop's (a 50's ice-cream shop). Tempting though it was to stay home and chill after our long outing, I could not say "no." So, the kids got two fun trips in the same day! And, though I promised myself, during the drive over, that I wouldn't order my own ice-cream, the brownies on the moon was just too, too irresistible.

Our summer adventures continued on Tuesday with more outings -- this time for business rather than pleasure. Monday night, Brian and I realized that we had both scheduled appointments at the exact same times. So . . . we divvied up the kids. I buckled up the three youngest and he piled in the four oldest.

My crew headed to the dermatologist (for Isaac) at 9 a.m. while they headed to bookstores to distribute "I Am Ogden." Right after Isaac's appointment ended, we were off to my pediatrician for Katie's 2-week-check-up. It is official. She is perfect. The Doctor said so. And, I could have sworn she is at least 10-pounds by now, she seems to grow right before my eyes, but she's only gained 4-ounces (8 lbs. 12 oz.). Perfectly normal.

Just before they pricked her foot for the PKU, Brian showed up to hand-off four more kids to me so he could make it to a meeting (about the book) at Weber State. It was a strange, strange feeling herding those seven kids out of the Doctor's office and out to the van. I looked at them scurrying ahead of me and the thought occurred to me, "This isn't exactly how I envisioned my future back when I was in college wearing dry clean only pants, ironing my clothes on a regular basis and going out on the town every weekend."

It wasn't what I envisioned. But, I'll take it. Because it's pretty great.

The other day, my eighty-something-year-old neighbor congratulated us on the most recent arrival and paid us a very high compliment when he said, "It's a pleasure to see people who take good care of their kids bring children into the world." His words made me feel so good.

And, truly, the pleasure is mine.

Come To The Book Release Party

Yesterday, the kids and I were out and about delivering invitations to Brian's big book release party and art show. By the way, this is your official invite:

Come see the Ogden Book and 50 life-size portraits from the book at the Union Station, 25th Street and Wall Avenue in Ogden, from 5-9 p.m. Friday, June 5. There will even be some food and I hear it's going to be delish!

So . . . we were out delivering the invites, and I got to talking with one gal (who I know on a casual basis), and she was telling me how much she loves being a mom. She has a six-month-old and an almost two-year-old. She was also telling me how stressful it is to work full-time and keep all of the balls in the air, so to speak. And, about how her nanny called in sick for the rest of the week and she had important meetings for the next two days. And, it was so stressful because all of her family lives back East, so, when her nanny is sick or needs time off she is very limited on who she can call for back-up.

I felt so bad for her that for a moment I nearly volunteered to take her two babies for her. But, just in time, a voice inside my head said, "Hello? You are already babysitting for the rest of the week. You will have seven kids. Three babies in diapers? What are you thinking girl? Hello? You are less than two-weeks post-partum. Your husband is two-days out from his big gala. Don't even think about it."

So, as much as I would have loved to take those two little cherubs of hers, that voice inside my head stopped me just in time. And, as I drove away I was thinking how thankful I am to stay home with my kids and to not have to be stressed out all the time about juggling work and nannies. Not to mention hairy commutes - bleh! Because really, what is the point in having tons and tons of money if you can't really enjoy your kids and your life?

Transitions

Our summer vacation began with a lot of declarations from Ian that "There is nothing fun to do."

My response: "Did you sleep in a tent last night? Was it fun to have pancakes dripping with syrup for breakfast? Are your grandparents taking you to the ice-cream parlor right after lunch? Is Daddy taking you to a movie tomorrow? Do you have a basement full of toys? A big backyard? A bike and a scooter? A house full of siblings? If there is nothing fun about all of those things, I'm sorry, I can't help you."

To which Ian would respond: "Yeah, but, I'd like to go to Disneyland or Lagoon or Classic Fun Center."

And, this would lead us to repeated conversations about how life isn't just about having fun all the time and those things are too expensive to do every day.

Ian's response: "Summer vacation isn't suppose to be just about working."

My response: Inside my head, "Ummm, yes it is."

I didn't actually say it in so few of words, instead it came out something like, "Do you like living in a house? And, having a bedroom? And, a kitchen where you can make food? Because if you want to live in a tent, it will really cut down on the housekeeping. But, if you want to live in a house, you're going to have to help out."

And, finally, yesterday, the kids woke up, ate their breakfast, and settled into reading a pile of books in the middle of the living room floor. When they were done with that, all three headed to the cave and started playing a make-believe game. And, I thought to myself, "At last we have transitioned from the fast paced life of school to the lazy days of summer."

At one point, I held my new baby on my lap and she stared deep into my soul with her penetrating eyes. Ian practiced his songs on the piano. Sophie enthusiastically read to Isaac. My heart filled to the brim with joy. Then, my angelic baby sighed and closed her eyes while I rubbed her little swaddled up body, and I looked at her sleeping figure and thought, "The past nine-months were definitely worth it!"

Today, I resumed watching my friend's three kids. Katie's birth worked out perfectly. She was born on the weekend, just before Paula got back from D.C. Paula was able to keep Heidi's kids for a couple of days the following week, and then Heidi's family headed off to Texas for a week. So, I had a nice little break. Thank you baby Katie for being so accommodating to everyone's schedules.

Today, the summer babysitting transition began. My kids missed their friends SO much while they were in Texas. And, all day yesterday (as they do every day we don't babysit), they begged to invite their friends over to play. "You will see them tomorrow," I assured them.

How long did it take before two children were in tears and the other four were arguing? Exactly 30 minutes I tell you. This is why I am always perplexed as to why they can't stand to be apart.

After two hours of me playing the mediator (and, handing out a few chocolate chip cookies), they have now retired to the backyard for a treasure hunt. Could it be that the transition has already been made? Well, I'm not holding my breath. But, I'm grateful for the break nonetheless.

Seven kids for the summer!!! Phew! I think we are in for some adventures.

Simple Pleasures

This morning, Katie's cord fell off, and you know what that means -- her first bath.

It was so fun to see her submerged in her little tub while the other three giggled at her tiny body. I can never get enough of this soft pink baby skin.

Miss Katie is such a good baby (knock on wood). So far, she only gets up once per night. And, when she does, I feel grateful to be rocking my sweet little newborn. I think motherhood gets better and better with time. I'm so blessed to have such a good natured baby.

She is a fantastic eater. Once she gets going, we tend to spend an hour or two before she is satisfied. She'll eat, and doze, and wake up five minutes later wailing and looking at me like, "Geez woman what do I have to do to get a little food around here?"

The kids had their last day of school on Thursday. I can tell that they are still young, because the last day of school was sad for them (they will miss their teachers) instead of the joyful event I remember from my youth. To jazz things up, Brian set up the tent in the backyard and they had a camp out for two nights in a row! He's such a fun dad. I got to camp inside in my big comfy bed with Miss Katie Jane. During the day, the kids and I all lounged in the tent enjoying the cool spring weather and I thought about what a nice little green spot my backyard really is. I'm going to miss our giant cottonwood tree when it finally has to come down. In the mornings, I made pancakes for everyone. And, by the way, I just discovered the best pancake recipe ever.

I can't believe that it was only one week ago today that I was still in the hospital with this beautiful new baby. She's so tiny. And, yet, I can't believe that this whole perfect little person was inside of me! Phew! No wonder my belly was so huge! Now, I'm loving sleeping on my back, and any which way I choose without feeling like someone is stabbing me in the ribs. Ahhh . . . sweet sleep. Ahhh . . . being comfortable again. I'm loving wearing non-maternity clothes again. I'm loving that I'm suddenly Isaac's favorite parent again. He's been daddy's boy for a long time, which was also fun. But, I'll take his fabulous hugs anytime I can get them (even if it's while I'm nursing Katie). I love the way a new baby slows things down. The way I'm suppose to soak in the tub and put my feet up -- Doctor's orders!!! And, the housework and the errands can all wait for just a minute while we welcome this new person into our lives.

Pancakes
1 1/2 cups flour (white or whole wheat)
2 tsp. baking powder
3 tbsp. sugar
3/4 tsp. salt

sift dry ingredients, then add:

3 tbsp. melted butter mixed with
1 egg

stir together, and slowly add while stirring:

1 1/4 cups vanilla soy milk

I had to also mix it with a mixer because it was kind of lumpy. I'm telling you, they are delish!!

P.S. I never want to forget that Sophie and Ian brought me breakfast in bed my first morning home from the hospital.

Sisterly Sacrifice

Sophie reading to Isaac in the Pepto Palace (2008).

When Sophie was born, we brought her home to a yellow nursery (formerly a beige office -- the office moved into the newly finished third bedroom). A year-and-a-half later, Ian moved in with her, taking over the crib while she got a toddler bed of bright colors and handprints that she and daddy painted together.

When Isaac came along, he took up residence in the yellow nursery and Sophie and Ian both moved into the third bedroom (the office moved downstairs to our newly finished basement). Sophie claimed the top bunk, Ian the bottom and my mom bought them darling quilts, both with gingham print borders, so that they "matched" while being distinctly "boy" and "girl".

When we came home from China, we decided to mix things up by moving Isaac into the bunkbed with Ian and giving Sophie her own room. She was back in the yellow nursery, but, we let her pick any color of paint she wanted. She chose pink - a very pink pink - a pepto pink. And, as the months went on, her Pepto Palace grew into a lovely lovely haven.

She got a brass bed with a canopy at the head, and a white dresser with gold trim. My parents found the most perfect little bedside desk, complete with fancy drawers and cabinets and a mirror when you open the top. We also acquired a pink upholstered antique chair. She found all of my old jewelry boxes and claimed them as her own. We secured flower shaped hooks on the wall for her to hang up her jackets. She put up pictures and decorations and made the place her own (as my sentimental Sophie tends to do with all places she inhabits).

A few months ago, it became apparent that the only way to make room for a new baby in our home would be to move Sophie downstairs (again, the office gets the boot -- it now shares a space with the playroom) and turn her room back into a nursery (lucky we had a girl in light of all that pink). My mind flashed back to a conversation we had had a few months prior to the big moving decision.

"Mommy, tonight I made a wish."
"What did you wish for?"
"I can't tell you, or it won't come true But, I'll tell you a wish I made that already came true."
"What was your wish that came true?"
"I wished I would have a beautiful bedroom when we came home from China."

That room! The Pepto Palace. It meant so much to her. But, in the end, my sweet Sophie moved downstairs to make way for her sister without complaint. We transferred her furniture, all but the canopy and the pink chair that would not fit. The walls are Boston Brick instead of pink. My mom bought a bulletin board and cute shelves and hooks to doll up the new space.

Just like the time I realized that we wouldn't be able to put our beloved hamster "Joey" in a Pringles can and take him on the airplane home from China (my kids played with that guy for at least four hours every day), I cried more than she did. Because, I knew that deep down inside, she was making such a big sacrifice.

I guess no sacrifice is too great for the blessing of a sister. I'm so in love with the way Sophie will sit and hold Katie for an hour and sing her into a calm state when she fusses. It is the absolute best to see her be a great nurturer. Even if it means I will never see her reading books under her makeshift fairy blanket "tent" at bedtime. Even if it is the end of the Pepto Palace era. I think all in our family agree, Katie Jane is worth it.

Introducing!! . . . wait for it . . .

Welcome to the world Katie Jane!
Born Saturday, May 23rd at 3:47 a.m.
8 lbs. 8 oz. 21-inches

Known for her tiny nose and long toes, Katie loves eating and being held by her older siblings and other admirers.

Among the many, many names we have considered these past few days:

Whitney Layne
Clara Jane
Laynie Kate
Kate Alayne

And, at long last, she is Katie Jane. Choosing a name. What a big decision.

Weekend Getaway

Friday night, we dropped the kids off at my mom and dad's just in case we would be able to get a bed at the hospital Saturday morning.

We dined on calamari with spicy hot wing sauce and burnt almond fudge ice-cream pie on our way to our quiet home.

At 10 p.m. Brian promptly fell asleep and I started having contractions every 2 minutes. Here is the thing about me and contractions -- I don't get that excited when I have them, because I figure I'm going to have 2 million of them before I have a baby.

For two hours, I contracted and deliberated. On the one hand, if I went directly to the hospital and the contractions were documented, they would keep my labor going and I would have the baby (what I had been hoping and trying for all day). On the other hand, what a pain to go to the hospital right when we are tired and going to bed (I was wicked tired and so was my slumbering husband). Still, back to the first hand, if I waited until morning, the contractions would most likely subside and I risked being denied at the hospital (if all of the beds were full), and I really wanted to have this baby.

Back and forth I went for two hours until midnight -- when my water broke!

This came as such a shock. I figured I would never have that experience. My Doctor has always broken my water, including with Ian when I was already at a 10.

I felt panicked. This was uncharted territory. I was planning to spend at least 12 hours on the pitocin before allowing them to break my water. And, then the breaking of the water would be the end. Suddenly everything was thrown into full throttle and I couldn't wrap my brain around what was happening.

Upon arrival at the hospital (approx. 1 a.m. by the time they checked us in), I was amazed to learn that I was at a 6 (I guess those contractions were doing something after all). I was determined to stick to my plan of going natural, but, after two hours at the hospital of i-n-t-e-n-s-e contractions every 2-minutes + large posterior baby (ouch back labor) + visions of the doctor turning the baby with no anesthesia causing added anxiety + nurse who was really ticking me off by her lack of compassion and the way she kept talking to me like a girlfriend out to lunch rather than a person in the throes of transition in desperate need of concentration = finally surrendered to drugs.

When I made the decision to get the epidural, I was like, "I don't want to feel one more minute of pain, give it to me now!" The (mean) nurse quietly hooked up my I.V. (remember, I'd already been there for 2 hours) and said, "Okay, now we have to get half the bag in you before I will call the anesthesiologist." Ummmm, that might have been nice information to share with me before I got to that exact point (imagine flames shooting out of my eyes even now as I type those thoughts).

Let me add here that the reason I didn't want the epidural to begin with is that I had had one with my first and third births and both were bad experiences.

In the end, the beloved anesthesiologist arrived and gave me a spinal (a single injection that lasts 2-hours since I was already so close), and I was immediately overcome with such a state of bliss that I was filled with love for everyone, everyone in the room and maybe in the whole world.

I was so calm and sedate. I finally understood why most women l-o-v-e their epidurals and speak of them with such fondness. The doctor arrived right when the numbing sensation started to move down my legs to the tips of my toes. Whereas I had been clinging to the ceiling in tortured pain when the nurse checked me before, I was able to lay there calm as a sunbather on the beach while my Doc turned that baby. Moments later, I was pushing. Even the pushing felt like a piece of cake. It was like I thought the word "push" and she came right out. I am seriously still in absolute amazement at how easily this 21-inch, 8 pound 8 ounce (not 9 pounds after all!) bundle of love came into the world.
It's been the best Memorial Day weekend ever, beginning with this blessed birth and rounding out with visits from dear family and friends, bubble baths in the whirlpool tub, and room service delivering meals to my bedside. All of it has been fabulous. And, Brian was an amazing labor companion (especially during the painful part). I think he was equally grateful for the drugs. We will have a name by morning.
Isaac the proud big brother keeps exclaiming, "She came out! The baby came out!" And, assessing the lovely labor room with, "This is a good place to come out."

This Just In

Just got a message from the hospital saying that they have me scheduled for an induction tomorrow morning!!! My Doctor had said she would try to schedule me for Tuesday, so, this is a nice turn of events.

Of course, they said I have to call first to make sure they have a bed. And, I've heard many a story of inductions being put off for a day or two because of lack of space. So, I'll try not to get my hopes up too terribly much.

Then again, maybe the castor oil will do the trick and they will have to take me tonight.

I did not plan to be induced. I intended to have a wholly natural birth. But, I also didn't plan for the baby to grow so big so fast! And, I guess I've already ruined the natural course of things by taking the pre-term labor shots. Oh well. It's been much nicer to be concerned with trying to go into labor than with trying to not go into labor.

Haven't Found the Trick Yet

Spicy nachos for breakfast, Indian food for lunch, a whole bottle (4 oz.) of castor oil . . . where are you baby?

I would go for a nice long walk, but, it only makes my elephant ankles even more swollen.

Oh, and here is something interesting. For the past few weeks, I've been craving chewing on ice day and night. Normally, I never use ice at all. I just discovered that this is a sign of anemia. Isn't that strange? I suppose all will be resolved when I have this baby.

I'm off to finish working my way through Pride and Prejudice.

Lemon Pie = Labor Pie?

Layne's lemon pie is soooo delish! My mom said it is the best lemon pie she has ever had in her life. But, I don't think I should say such things about my own cooking.

As far as the pregnancy goes, unlike my previous births, I have not been anxious to have this baby. I mean, I am excited, but, not "anxious" as in, "get out now!" I've been really mother-earth, my-body-knows-what-to-do and she'll-come-when-she-is-ready about the whole thing.

My official due-date is June 1st. Or, sometime between the 1-3, but, officially, on my chart it is June 1st. Since I've never actually been preggo up to my due-date, I've just gone with the official due-date of "end of May." When that doesn't appease peoples' inquiries and they want a more specific date, I say, "the very end of May." If they are just dead set on an exact date (and, why are so many people dead set on an exact date? It's not an exact science people!), I tell them, "June 1st." There are you happy now? I'm due so late in May, that it might even be June.

Even though my comfort has been greatly compromised for the past month (read: life=pain), I have still tried to think of each day as a precious gift of time. One more day to clean and organize, one more day to set up the nursery, one more day to go to the kids' softball games, one more day for Isaac to be the baby . . . come rock-a-bye with me my baby one more time before my arms are filled with another little one.

Physically, I've been ready to burst for quite some time. But, mentally and emotionally, I was more shooting for the middle of June.

Finally, Wednesday morning, I woke up and thought, "I'm ready." Not like, "get out now!" But, like, "I'm ready. I'm at peace. I could go anytime and that would be okay."

Then, I started thinking about lemon pie and how when we bit into it on Tuesday, the books arrived and it became celebration pie. Could it possibly be a charmed pie that could induce celebratory events, even labor? I ate a piece for breakfast just in case.

I went to a Doctor's appointment Thursday morning.

Not this Doctor, though I hear he is highly recommended.

I'm at a 3 and 75% effaced. Which means absolutely nothing to me since I'm typically at a 4 for absurd lengths of time. All of my babies are posterior and that is why my labors are so long (as in weeks). I'm trying to be open to the idea that this labor could be different. We'll see.

For quite some time the Doctor has been telling me that this baby is large. I figured she would slow down, because, I've had three kids and they've all been pretty close to 7 1/2 pounds. I think I know what I am doing, and, I don't grow 10-pound babies.

Or, do I?

Yesterday morning, I had to come to grips with the reality of my Doctor telling me that this baby is already 9-pounds!!! Whaaat? I mean, she could be smaller (or, heaven forbid, bigger!). They don't know "for sure." But, this I do know -- a few hours before Ian was born, they told me he was 7 lbs. 5 oz. and that is exactly what he weighed. So, I do think my doctor is exceptionally good at determining this kind of thing.

My Doctor said, "When babies grow over 9-pounds, we get concerned about the shoulders getting stuck in the pelvis." And, I said, "Oh, yeah, Sophie's shoulders got stuck and she had to be pretty forcibly removed (with a vacuum and three Doctor's pushing - no, more like sitting - on my stomach if you must know). But, she was my first and this is my fourth, so the way has been paved."

My Doctor looked pretty concerned, and asked, "How big was Sophie?" The answer: 7 lbs. 11 oz. (my biggest so far). And, then my Doctor looked really concerned and said, "Well, your pelvis does not get bigger with each birth so this is a problem."

I reflected on our conversation for the rest of the day and woke up at 5 a.m. thinking, "I MUST have this baby TODAY!" I e-mailed my request to be induced and my Doctor called me back at 8 a.m. to say, "Yeah, you and everyone else wants to be induced on the Friday of a holiday weekend!" So, she scheduled me for Tuesday, unless . . .

Well, unless I can somehow get some contractions going on. Then, she will happily help me keep the labor going once I check into the hospital. But, so far, all is quiet. I even tried a strawberry pie from Maddox. But, these pies just aren't helping people!

Here's to hoping I don't make it through the weekend without birthing my super-sized baby.

I Love: Being an At-Home-Mom

Am I a Stay-at-Home-Mom (SAHM) or a Work-at-Home-Mom (WAHM)? Some days it's hard to tell. All I know is that I am tremendously grateful for the AHM part.

For as long as I can remember, I planned to stay home when I had kids. It was never a question in my mind. This commitment to be an AHM affected decisions I made in college and is the reason we bought a fixer-upper in Ogden (which we knew we could eventually afford on one income) instead of one of the nicer, already fixed up homes we could have afforded on the two incomes we had when we bought a home.

When it came right down to giving up (nearly) 50% of our household income and trading my amazing 100% coverage health insurance benefits to pay more for the not-as-fabulous health insurance benefits offered by Brian's employer, it did raise some questions.

"Perhaps I should see if they will let me work part-time? Perhaps I should just work for a few more months so we can put some money into savings? Perhaps . . ."

Instead, I went cold turkey and quit my job right when Sophie was born. That was probably for the best, because, really, when is it ever convenient to give up income and/or benefits?

Sophie's heart hair-do for Valentine's Day.

Then, came the transition period. And, I am sad to admit that there was a lot of complaining and ingratitude. There were, of course, wonderful moments. But, transitioning from a fast paced life in the career world to the isolation of being at home with an infant was a lot harder than I had imagined. It took some time to find my niche. As the years have gone by, I've learned to love being an AHM more than anything else life has to offer.

This is what we do sometimes when we are suppose to be going to bed.



















When Isaac was a baby, I went through a time when I seriously considered getting a full-time job. Regular paychecks, company health insurance plans, paid vacations, and other benefits are such beautiful things lost to the self-employed (now, I only wish we had the option to pay what we paid for those less than stellar company benefits). I wrote down the pros and cons. Added up the costs (such as childcare and money lost from my WAHM ventures) and subtracted them from the foreseeable pay increase. When I came face-to-face with working as my possible reality, it broke my heart to pieces to think of leaving my kids. I suddenly didn't feel like complaining about the little struggles, the never ending housework, and other minor things that can cloud the vision of gratitude for the tremendous blessing of being home raising my own kids. The money and benefits didn't seem so lucrative anymore.

My crew of six feeding the ducks.

Recently, a copy of Dr. Laura's new book, "In Praise of Stay At Home Moms," came into my possession and reading it ramped up my gratitude for my blessings even more.

First, by way of critique, I feel inclined to say that this book felt more like reading a rough draft than a published piece. And, I had a difficult time digesting the first three chapters that I think really put down working moms. Even though being an AHM is the absolute best, right, and only choice for me, I feel like there needs to be a mutual respect.

With that said, I also felt washed over with sincere gratitude for my blessings. It was kind of like reading a book on the miracle of eyesight. Each of us is so blessed by this gift, yet, we don't go around every day thinking, "I am SO grateful to see!!!" Reading this book made me really think about my blessings when it comes to being a mom. And, it made me even more grateful for the support I get from Brian. He would never suggest that I go to work and he appreciates all that I do in the home.


Several months ago, I heard a caller on a talk radio program who changed my perspective of being an AHM. The topic was childhood obesity and asking why kids today don't run around the neighborhood and play outside the way we did when we were kids? People suggested that it's because of technology (kids playing computer games and watching T.V.) combined with parents being afraid of kidnappers. Then, a caller said, "It's because of moms going to work." And, he talked about how when he was a kid there was a mom in almost every house peering out the window now and then to make sure the neighborhood gang of kids wasn't getting into mischief. They knew that if they had a problem, they could knock on almost any door to get help from a mom. With the majority of the moms gone, it has changed the whole face of the neighborhood and made it less safe for kids to go out and get the fresh air and exercise they need.



This got me to thinking about how my choice to not work outside the home could actually be for an even greater good than just the benefit of my family. Like my few drops given back to the ocean of humanity. That's nice. But, what is really nice is getting to be with my kids. I wouldn't trade it for a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g.

Celebration Pie

Layne posted a recipe for lemon pie that caught my eye. So, today, for no reason in particular, I whipped one up, and, yum!

Brian was cleaning out the garage and I invited him in for a slice. "Why are we having pie?" He wanted to know. Just then he got a phone call informing him that the giant shipment of 2,000 Ogden books just rolled into Ogden from the slow boat from China. Then, we knew we were eating celebration pie.

He is unloading the books as I type. If you need a portrait photo book, I know where you can get one.

I Love: Loving Ogden

Even though I grew up in North Ogden, I had a very bad image of Ogden City. Yes, the suburb of North Ogden is very different from the lowly-impoverished-crime-ridden (as it is often portrayed) heart of Ogden City.

When Brian and I bought our starter-fixer-upper bungalow in Ogden proper, it was quite the shock to my system. I spent my first couple of years bemoaning the fact that I lived in Ogden, or, the armpit of Utah, as I then referred to it.

Around the time Sophie was 6-months-old, I attended a meeting in which a certain Ogdenite (Kym B.) talked briefly about the virtues of Ogden. She spoke of the surrounding mountain beauty, the fact that the trails are within walking distance from our homes (at least for those of us living up on the bench), and she ended with, "Lots of people hate Ogden and talk about it's problems. But, I love Ogden. There is nowhere else I would rather live."

And, believe me, this is a person who could live elsewhere if she chose.

This gave me something to ponder. A classy gal like this proclaiming to a large group that she l-o-v-e-s Ogden. I had never heard such a spin on the city I'd been raised to view as tattoo parlors and people with missing teeth.

I thought and thought about her statements. Then, I began to look around. It was fall. Could this really be Ogden? This gorgeous setting? All of these huge beautiful trees lining my street with leaves raining down like a fairytale?

As I began raising my family, I started appreciating the many family friendly things right at my fingertips. The farmer's and art market, Dinosaur Park, the gorgeous Temple, the Treehouse Museum, the amphitheater -- all of them first class, and all of them less than five-minutes from my home. My parents' home in North Ogden started to seem way out in the boonies. Why would anyone choose to live somewhere other than downtown? Especially on the east bench with these one-of-a-kind historic homes?

By paying a little bit of attention, I started to learn about all of the festivals and cultural events right here in my own little city. The kids and I attended them all religiously (and, almost everything was free).

Yes, there are many, many reasons to love Ogden. That is for sure. I'm so glad that my eyes were opened to my blessings.

On the one hand, when Ballet West comes to town for their one performance, it may pale in comparison to the multiple shows they put on in Salt Lake City. But, that is what makes it special, it's our one little gem here in Ogden. It's unexpected.

And, let's look at a restaurant like Tona as another example. Yes, I'm sure there are probably half a dozen or more restaurants of equal or (dare I say) greater quality in any given area of Salt Lake. But, they are a dime a dozen in those parts. When you find a "Tona" in between the tattoo parlors and pawn shops, it is worth appreciating.

Even though I never would have thought to choose Ogden as my home, it turns out that I have loved learning to love Ogden over the years. It is truly unique and does have so much more to offer than it is generally given credit for.

I guess it's a matter of choosing which parts to focus on.

For the 75th anniversary of Ogden Pioneer Days this summer, the city is having 75 artists decorate horses to display around the city. Brian was lucky enough to get to do an "I Am Ogden" horse with pictures from his book:


We're not big rodeo fans around here, but, this project was fun. Well, at least the finished product is fun.

The horse made it's debut on Channel 2 this morning. And, luckily, I did not go into labor!

I Will do my Best to Grant Your Wish

I have less than three weeks to go. Isaac was born three weeks early.

This time, I had 20-weeks of shots to combat pre-term labor, so, even though I traditionally deliver early, that changes the whole system in ways I have yet to understand. At this point, I guess anything can happen.

I've been having irregular, yet strong and steady contractions for the past 18-hours. What does that mean? I'm not sure. I've usually been having contractions for two months by now. I've usually been at a 4 for two weeks (or, more) by now. Two weeks ago, things had not even started happening. Everything is completely different this time.

Last night, Brian requested that I don't have the baby before Saturday. It would really be a problem to be in labor all night tonight, or, delivering the baby tomorrow morning -- since, he's slated to be on the channel 2 news with Casey Scott in the morning to promote his book. He is really wacky when he is sleep deprived, and, it would be even worse if he missed it. The spot on the news I mean.

My mom thinks I should wait at least until Monday, so the baby isn't born too early, but, then, she'd really like for me to get a move on it so that the baby isn't too big for my own comfort (this really distresses her since she had large babies by c-section) and so we can move on with planning my brother's wedding which is currently scheduled for five days after my due-date (hmmmm . . .).

Heidi would not like for me to have the baby early next week, as she will be out of town. She will also be out of town at the end of the month. She is asking me to shoot for between the 20-26th . . .

Paula is also on her way out of of town for 10-days to Washington D.C.! So jealous. So, it would be best if I waited until she got back.

The kids have a piano recital on Saturday. Their teacher would like me to please wait until that is over. While I'm making it through Saturday, I may as well make it through my beautiful nephew's blessing on Sunday. And, there is the sewing class next Tuesday to finish an apron I started yesterday. Could I please not miss that?

All of this is making me laugh. Because, guys, she is coming when she is coming, alright?

Just . . . please not during the morning news tomorrow.

I Love: My Neighbors

This is my neighbor, Clair.

He is a WWII Veteran and a spry nearly 90-year-
old man.

I have to admit that when Brian and I first bought our little fixer-
upper bungalow in Ogden, it took us awhile to appreciate the amazing person this man is.

Back in the pre-children days, when we liked to sleep in on a Saturday, we sometimes had a hard time appreciating his early morning schedule -- out at the break of dawn washing his motor home, patching the cement work in his driveway, or, otherwise tinkering (right outside our bedroom window).

Back in the days when I had two tiny kids and I was always frazzled trying to get them buckled into their carseats while running late for a doctor's appointment or playdate, I didn't always appreciate being stopped in my driveway for a story (usually involving extensive facts about geological formations in Montana).

But, over the years, I've grown in awe and appreciation of this person. First of all, I am amazed at his stamina. He gets up at 3:30 a.m. every day, eats vegetable soup for breakfast, goes on a 5 a.m. walk with his grown daughter, and then starts a full and busy day of hard work. Ever the optimist, he always tells me that life just gets better and better with old age. I've come to look forward to our driveway chats. And, to appreciate his big hearted service. In the winter, he snowblows three or four driveways at every snowfall.

Recently, Clair had some serious health problems and was in the hospital for several weeks, undergoing five surgeries. This happened a few years back, and, he was able to make a full recovery. Things looked pretty bleak this time around, but, I'm convinced the man has nine-lives because, once again, he made it.

I hadn't even heard that he was out of the hospital when I saw him mowing his lawn a couple of weeks ago. He moved very slowly, but, he did it (he was still eating from a feeding tube which was only removed a few days ago).

And, you could have knocked me over with a feather today when he showed up unannounced and tilled my garden!!!

This reminded me of President Henry B. Eyring's recent conference talk entitled "Adversity," addressing the purifying effects of trials in our lives and about how to find relief when these inevitable challenging times come our way. He says:

"The Lord always suits the relief to the person in need to best strengthen and purify him or her. Often it will come in the inspiration to do what might seem especially hard for the person who needs help himself."

He tells the story of a personal friend in declining health who always gave a smile though he was in constant pain. Later, when he was forced to use a cane to walk, President Eyring caught him dragging his (President Eyring's) garbage can back to the house from the curb with one hand, while balancing himself on his cane with the other.

"He was giving me the help he thought I needed when he needed it far more than I did. And he was helping with a smile and without being asked," Eyring said.

Today, Clair was a living example to me of President Eyring's words. Clair is just one of the many reasons why, for better or worse, we may never be able to leave our little starter bungalow. What is better than great neighbors when it comes to where you live?

You Can Make the Pathway Bright, Hymn #228, verse 3

You can do a kindly deed
To your neighbor in his need,
If there's sunshine in your heart;

And his burden you will share
As you lift his load of care,
If there's sunshine in your heart today.

If there's sunshine in your heart,
You can send a shining ray
That will turn the night to day;

And your cares will all depart,
If there's sunshine in your heart today.