Merry Christmas 2010

Merry Christmas! I'm too excited to sleep. I've been looking for things to do since 4:45 a.m. while my family sleeps. I don't want to wake them up too early. They get cranky you know. So, I decided to update my blog with this picture of us, taken at the end of the summer at Bear Lake (one of our favorite places).

To My Kindergartener:

Dear Isaac,

Your birthday is so late in the summer, we didn't know what to do about Kindergarten?  Should you start one week after you turned 5?  Or, one week after you turned 6?

I was leaning toward waiting until you were 6.  You weren't a big fan of being away from me for pre-school.  Why not wait one more year?

But, then I found out about a Montessori charter school opening up about 15-minutes to the North of us, and I couldn't resist registering you there.  I have been so excited for this opportunity, that I almost forgot what a big milestone it is to send you off to school.  One year sooner than I always thought too.

On the first day of school, we dressed you up in your new polo and blue Docker's.  You insisted on taking the fuzzy orange backpack you've had since you were 2 instead of the more grown-up school backpack I bought for you.  That's O.K.  The other one is too big and grown-up for you anyway.  

You woke up in the morning full of anticipation, asking at breakfast when it would be time for school.  You could hardly wait until after lunch.  All morning I could see your emotions rocking between excitement and nervousness.  

When we finally pulled up to the school and your teacher came to the curb to get you out of the car, you jumped out and followed the crowd inside without even looking back to wave "goodbye".  As I pulled away, a teensy bit of sadness washed over me.  But, then I thought about how amazing this school is, and how lucky I feel that you get to go there, and about how I really feel that this is exactly what you need right now (or, as you would say, "in this minute").  Then, the sadness disappeared.

A few weeks ago, when we dropped Ian off at his piano lesson you turned to me and said, "Are you glad he's gone now?  Do you want him to go away?"  I hope you know that I do miss you, my little blue-eyed spirited child, when you are gone to school.  But, just like I know Ian is learning good things at his lesson, I know you are learning good things at school.

Like the way you explained the process of humans converting oxygen into carbon dioxide and plants turning it back into oxygen followed by an explanation what it means to be proactive on the drive home the other day.  

In other news, I don't want to forget that earlier this week you told me if I didn't get you a cup of milk "in this minute" I was going to be fired.  You paused for a second while we stared at each other, and then said, "That's it.  You're fired." 

I love your crazy antics, your growing vocabulary, and the way you laugh at everything.  I love the way you sometimes grab my arm and give it a little kiss out of the blue.  I love how you notice everything.  I hope you never lose your creativity. 

Love, 

Mom  

Indiana: Day 7 The End

We drove to an Amish town and spent the afternoon rummaging through antiques at a flea market and oohing and aahing over their fine handmade furniture and intricate hand stitched quilts.  I found a lovely apron and when it was rung up my Pappa insisted on paying for it and told me to think of him whenever I wore it. 

After another delicious lunch of Southern comfort foods and another amazing dessert feast, we made our way to Indianapolis to Drop my Aunt Linda off at the airport.

We killed another couple of hours at a huge mall downtown, mostly shopping for fun jewelry at Forever 21.

And, then it was our turn to go to the airport, to say our goodbyes and begin the long flight back to our homes.  Home, where Brian had had his own fun over the weekend running the Wasatch Back Relay while his parents kept the kids.  Home where he had taken our kids out for a fun night at Boondocks and other exciting adventures to pass the time while I was away.  And, to my home sweet home where Brian and the kids had tidied up the basement, washed all of the dishes and mopped all of the floors before they retired to their beds awaiting my arrival.

I'm so grateful I got to go to this family reunion.  It meant a lot to me every time my Pappa looked at little Katie and proclaimed, "What a doll!"  And, it was fun to see him approach strangers everywhere we went to tell them that he was there with all four of his children and his granddaughter and great-granddaughter and then he would line my mom and Katie and me up along side him and show everyone what four generations looks like.  

Indiana: Day 6 Indoor Water Park

After a relaxing Sunday at home, we were right back to party mode.  We wanted to go to Holiday World, a large theme park, but the forecast for the weather was 99-degrees with lots of humidity and a heat index of 105.  We decided we'd be better off indoors and went instead of a giant indoor water park.  

There were two huge slides that were the most fun.  We attacked them over and over in pairs on double inner-tubes.  One of them took us down a drastic incline and then spit us out into a giant bowl where we rode round and round until we slowed down and reached the middle where we were sucked down another drastic incline to the bottom.  My mom said it was like getting flushed down a toilet bowl.

The other was a dark tube that spun us round and round violently and then turned glowing red towards the end.  It was like being cast down into the dark and fiery underworld.  

There was also a lazy river and a giant water playland.  But, my other favorite part (besides the big slides) was the kiddie pool with swings and a tiny slide that Miss Katie went down dozens of times.  On this day, Katie really warmed up to all of the grown ups and I loved watching them take turns playing with her in the water.

That night, we had a BBQ back at the house and a little bit of sadness as we contemplated our last night together on this dream vacation.

As dusk approached, my Pappa and I took Katie out to my Aunt's lovely front porch where I liked to sit and stare out over the wheat field lined with trees next to their home.  The lingering heat and humidity of the day had us dripping in no time.  Soon, little flickers just above the lawn began to light up with a magical glow.  The fireflies were out.  And, they were every bit as charming as I remembered them.  I tried to memorize their orange, yellow and green flashes.  To memorize that moment.  And, especially to save in my mind the image of my Pappa following my baby girl up and down the street on that lovely, sweet evening.

Indiana: Day 5 Father's Day

Sunday we woke up to find the dining room table covered with gifts.  

Most notably:

My aunt found a lady who repurposes clothing into adorable teddy bears.  She had taken some of my Mamma's favorite dresses and had them sewn into bears for all of the siblings.  And, my cousin Marc had taken some of my Mamma's old scarves and pendants and framed them together in shadow boxes.  

Jewelry art.  

What clever ways to memorialize some of my Mamma's beautiful possessions into new treasures.

There were also Father's Day gifts and of course some gag gifts to keep with our theme for the week of non-stop laughter.   My Pappa honored all of the mothers with gifts and said, "there would be no fathers if it weren't for the mothers."  A Father's Day first.

I made blueberry buttermilk pancakes with bacon for breakfast and chocolate chip cookies at lunch.  For dinner, we BBQ'd and had another huge spread of food.

That evening we took a drive around Washington, Indiana, the small town where my Aunt and Uncle live, to admire the houses and be amazed by the gigantic yards that stretched on as large as city parks.

Then, my darling cousin, Tara, gave me a pedicure complete with delicate flowers.  The perfect way to get ready for our Day 6 Adventure:  Chillaxin' at The Pool.

Indiana: Day 4 At the Lake

My Pappa is a hard act to follow.  Even with his 87th birthday coming up next week, he still attends dances three or more evenings per week.  And he dances every single dance.  He dances for hours.  The man has a lot of energy.  So, of course he was on board for a day at a gorgeous lake.

My uncle rented a double decker party barge with a waterslide for a long day of relaxation and laughs.  You can probably guess that once we got out on the lake, my aunts and uncles were all cannon balls and crazy screams into the water. They went down the slide over and over and hooted and splashed all around like a big group of kids.  Being around all of that crazy happiness was enough to make anyone have a great time.  Katie, unimpressed by the warm, crystal clear lake water, dozed lazily on the lower shady deck while the adults took turns swimming.

I bet my Pappa was thinking about taking his family and their boat to Kentucky Lake when he was a young father.  He taught my mom to ski when she was just five-years-old by standing her in the water and pulling her with a rope while he ran along the shore.  He use to waterski behind the boat with two of his daughters standing on his shoulders.  I think the trips to the lake really brought my mom's family together.  I noticed there were lots of memories of Kentucky Lake shared at the reunion.

After a day of exhilerating fun in the water, we stopped by an ice-cream stand known for their towering soft serve cones.  I ordered the medium which, no lie, was stacked about 12-inches off my cone.  They also sell large and jumbo (about 18-inches of ice-cream I'm told), which I can't imagine since it took all of my concentration just to eat the medium before it melted in the sweltering summer heat of Indiana.

Have you ever had a day you wished would never end?  That was how I felt on this day at Patoka Lake.

Indiana: Day 3 Gorgeous Architecture

We visited two monasteries (Ferdinand and St. Meinrad Cassimo Chapel) and two hotels (French Lick and West Baden) built in the late 1800's - early 1900's and immaculately restored. They had towering domes, intricate tile mosaics, larger than life paintings, and ornate detail like I've only seen in Europe. Who knew such treasures existed in Indiana?

One of the hotels housed a hot spring (Pluto) dubbed the world's largest laxative (hehehe). We all took pictures of the sign that said, "When nature won't, Pluto will."

Dinner was Chicago style pizza which my Pappa swears was the best he's eaten in his whole life. Which is saying a lot since he's had such a long life.

Two more of my cousins joined us - Marc from St. Louis and Neal from Tennessee. Marc travels the country training sales associates and lives in a house with a pool. Hmmm . . . thinking the kids and I need to visit said pool. Neal has been bringing down the Nashville scene as a musician. Neal brought along his charming girlfriend of six years, Kelly the massage therapist (yes, she gave me a free shoulder rub that was heavenly). 

I don't get to see them very often and of course we conjured up memories of summer days spent in Mamma's attic playing truth or dare with our large circle of cousins. There were also the times we rode Marc and Neal's mini motorcycles around and around their giant backyard. 

And, we thought about movies at the little theater in smalltown Pinckneyville, Illinois that gave free refills on all sizes of popcorn and drinks. I thought I was so clever buying the small and taking advantage of unlimited refills until leaving the movies so many times got old and I upgraded to the medium. 

When we were teens, we would watch crazy videos every night, like "Night of the Living Dead." Good times.

This time, we made new memories with wii dance and rock band competitions. Way more classy.

(especially when all of my aunts and I danced in our pajamas)

Indiana: Day 2 On the Road Home

My Uncle Ronnie looks like a dignified Sean Connery.  And, he loves baseball.  He still coaches little league teams even though his own son is an adult.  

On Thursday, our second day in Indiana, my Aunt Terry surprised us with a treat she called "going home."  Going home meant going south to Kentucky, where my mom lived until she was 17-years-old.  Our first stop of the day was the Indiana's Baseball Hall of Fame in Jasper.

We also saw a grand looking courthouse in Boonsville, Indiana.

We meandered through Madisonville, Kentucky and saw the old grocery store where my mom got chocolate ice-cream as a child.

For me, the highlight of the day was arriving at the picturesque Good Hope Cemetery where my Mamma is buried.  I guess I am related to almost every person resting in that quiet little grove in Kentucky.  But, dear to my heart is my Mamma.  An angel.  A sweet, sweet lady.  It was a special moment when my Pappa offered a prayer in that sacred spot.

Then we drove by my Great Mamma's house.  Or, at least what was left of it.  My mom described a majestic wooden home with a wrap around porch, frilly decor, old fashioned wallpaper, a wooden staircase that led to the second level where she liked to play in the cozy corners created by the bumped out windows at either end.  I had never been to the house before, but what we found was a dilapidated mess, literally falling down, behind a mess of tall weeds.

It seemed to reinforce the temporary state of our mortality.  

The end of the day brought my mom's best surprise.  My Aunt Terry had coordinated with a huge group of my mom's aunts, uncles and cousins to meet us at the Country Cupboard, a restaurant in Kentucky for dinner.  She even tracked down my mom's best friend from her childhood (they lost touch about 15 years ago).

The food.  Again with the food.  I gained five pounds on that trip.  How do I even describe the food?  It was an amazing buffet of every southern dish imaginable.  The dessert bar was unprecedented with every kind of homemade cake, and pies beautifully topped with meringue six-inches high.

Indiana: Day 1 Getting There

The other day, I was talking to my sister-in-law and she said, "Your parents are special people.  They are so giving and forgiving and really kind."  That is the truth.  I feel really lucky.  They are exceptional.  And, that is one of the reasons I was so stoked to be able to book tickets on the same flight with them and head to Indiana for a family reunion last month.  

They shuttled Katie Jane and me to the airport early on a Wednesday morning.  We didn't get seats together on the airplane, but, thanks to accommodating passengers, we were able to sit together for most of our flights.  

Here's a story about that:  

Flying from Denver to Indianapolis, my dad was assigned to sit in a seat about twenty rows ahead of my mom and me.  When we asked the lady in the seat next to me to trade with him, we discovered that my dad's seat was right next to her husband. What are the chances of that?

We arrived in Indianapolis Wednesday afternoon and met my Pappa and my mom's sister, Linda, at the airport.  My mom's brother, Roger, collected our group at the curb in a sweet, plush, comfortable van that was our ride for the rest of the week. 

Man, I loved being chauffeured around in that van.  I could read, take naps, laugh at the bedlam happening in the backseat or admire the scenery as it passed by the giant window at my side.  And, when I started to look tired it was like, "Here Amy, how about a pillow?"  Or, if I looked thirsty then it was, "Here's an icy cooler, how about a cold drink."  This trip was all about living in the lap o luxury.  

We drove from Indianapolis to Washington, Indiana (about 90 minutes south) to the reunion headquarters - my Uncle Roger and Aunt Terry's lovely home.  Did I mention that my Aunt Terry sent me a birthday card every year when I was growing up? She did.  And, lots of times there was a little gift too.  So sweet.  And, my Uncle Roger is still just as funny as I remember.  He's a funny, funny guy.

After settling in and having the grand tour of the home (my favorite part was the covered porch stretching along the length of the front of the house lined with chairs) the first of a flurry of fine meals was laid out before us.  Tender BBQ pork, fresh corn on the cob, homemade coleslaw, potato salad, fruit salad, pasta salad, my Mamma's famous pecan pie (made by my Aunt Terry since my dear Mamma passed away nearly twelve years ago), and homemade citrus cake with thick icing.  Wow, was it delicious.  We ate and talked and talked and ate until late into the night.

At dusk, my cousin, Tara, brought in a jar of lightening bugs.  Seeing that jar took me right back to my childhood when we use to visit my Mamma and Pappa in Illinois every other summer and collect those magical flying bugs by trapping them in jars. 

I remember one summer in particular, I was probably about seven, when we filled a jar half full of those critters.  That was a bad idea and by morning they were mostly dead.  But, I can see them in that jar on my Mamma's kitchen counter just like it was yesterday.  Clear as anything, I can see my brothers and my sister and I sleeping in the front room of that little house, listening to the train whistle blowing by all night long.  By day we would ride bikes to the train tracks and smash pennies.  I can see it and hear it.  I can smell it too.  It was the same smell in my Aunt and Uncle's Indiana garage -- hot wood in humidity.  

Thoughts on Indiana

Earlier this summer, in June, I flew to Washington Indiana where I had a fabulous week of basking in the non-stop laughter of my mom's side of the family.

Now, when I think of Indiana, I think of the color green.  Bright and happy.  Lots of leafy trees.  Winding roads lined with quaint homes and mowed lawns as big as city parks.

Washington, Indiana, the city where I stayed is south of Indianapolis.  It is cozy, rural and small.  There was a new adventure every day, but the best part by far was the company and the way we all laughed all day every day.

  

Sticking it to the Man . . . Or, Something Like That

I am back after a long summer with no internet.

That's right. No internet people.

We don't have a home phone or T.V. and it turns out that when you don't "bundle" you end up paying a wholeheckalot for just the internet. At least I think $60/mo. is a lot. Or, at least I did think that.

So, around about June we canceled. I said, "Why are we paying for something we can get for free?" As in, there are free wi-fi hot spots everywhere.

I soon learned that I do not need the internet. However, I really, really want it.

As I said, we don't have T.V. It turns out the internet is a great source of entertainment. I missed it.

I also needed to look something up every time I turned around. For example, I would need a phone number and naturally I would want to turn to dexknows. Then, I would have to stop and think, "How did I look up phone numbers in my pre-internet life? (pause) Oh, yes, the phone book." But, wait, that hugemongous thing only covers the cities right next to me. What about Salt Lake phone numbers? What about out of state?

Or, what if I needed to look up the signs of a concussion? (don't ask) Or, find out for my four-year-old if spiders eat bees? What? Go to the Library and peruse the reference section?

Please.

I quickly learned that, not only is it highly inconvenient to leave your house to use the internet (in light of the dozens of times each day that I needed or sometimes really did need to look things up), but, I was also never going to be able to use a free wi-fi hot spot.

For example, I took the kids to McD's thinking they could play on the playland. There was a family (who I'm pretty sure had been there for at least 2 hours and I'm pretty sure were staying for at least 2 more) sitting by the only outlet so I only had about 30 minutes of battery power. Do you think my kids happily played while I hurridly crammed the twelve hours of internet time I desired into a precious 30 minutes? Of course not. Every 60 seconds it was either, "Mom look at me!" Or, a fight. Or, a question. Or, an owie. Or, an attempted escape.

Sometimes I could pull my laptop out for 5 minutes at the library. But, you can't send and receive e-mail at the library. So, then I would resort to walking to my dear neighbor lady's house five doors down to send and receive e-mails. I didn't want to bug her, so I would sit on her front porch (I could get the signal out there). But, really, that just felt weird.

At one time, I started missing it so much. But, I was still determined that $70/mo was just too much. We researched other options and didn't find anything suitable. So, I called Comcast and said, "I want the internet back, but your price is too high." They did not offer to cut their price just for me, just because I spoke up about how I felt. Sigh.

The only redeeming thing about taking the summer off from the internet was being able to avoid the incessant "Mom, can I have a computer turn?" questioning every single day from the time the kids woke up until they went to bed. We do have rules and they know the rules, but, they just love computer turns so much that they can't help themselves from asking. Just. In. Case.

At long last, near the end of August, we decided that internet is worth $70/mo. I mean, really it is. It's the world wide web for goodness sakes. It's every bit of information we could ever hope for right at our fingertips 24/7.

And, to soften the blow, we somehow got the 1/2-price deal for the first 6-months. I have to say, taking a summer off from the internet was a good little learning experience for all of us.

Thank heavens it's over.

Nine Reasons Stake Lagoon Day Rocked

1.  Our friends got to join us for the first half of the day and Isaac and Izzy held hands and ran from ride to ride in Kiddie Land.

2.  Brian was able to take the day off from work and join us.

3.  The weather was perfect.  Overcast and just the right temperature.  Here is a funny story: We took the kids for a family ride on the train and, for the first time, Ian and Sophie said, "Awww, not the train it's too boring!"  But, we made them ride it anyways.  Right when we boarded the train a torrential downpour burst from the sky.  It was coming down so hard and fast and loud that at first I thought it was a hail storm.  No hail.  Just zillions of huge raindrops.  We sat luxuriously protected on the covered train watching everyone else run for cover and get drenched from head to toe.  After our ride, it was barely sprinkling.  One of the best strokes of luck ever.  How do you like the train now kids?

4.  Another funny story that is water related:  Near the end of the day, after magically missing the flash flood, we walked past the interactive fountain and Isaac was mesmerized so we stopped to watch while two girls stood in the center and showered in the streams of water.  When the water stopped for a pause, Isaac ran to the other side with a face that screamed "Victory!"  Then, he ran back to me, giggling all the way.  Then, he waited until the water was coming in little spurts one stream at a time and he ran across, tempting fate and getting a tiny bit wet here and there.  When he got to the other side, I saw a worker saying something to him.  When he turned to come back to me, the water was streaming in full force.  He didn't see me  walking around the perimeter to fetch him.  I saw him slowly walk with resolve through the fountain, a look on his face that was anything but pleased, as he was sprayed liberally from all directions.  I was calling to him, but, he couldn't hear me.  I was also laughing my head off.  When he emerged, sopping wet, I said, "Why did you walk through the fountain?  Did you want to get wet?"  And, he said, "The worker said I had to walk and not run through the fountain."  He took it to mean he HAD to walk through the fountain.  Such a funny moment that I will never forget.  Luckily for him, I had an extra set of clothes in my backpack (because I'm a mom and you just never know).

5.  At the end of the day, I was able to ride the Jumping Dragon and the Tilt a Whirl with the kids without puking. 

6.  Katie was a dream.  An absolute dream baby in her stroller all day.  

7.  Seeing Isaac's face on the rides.

8.  Around 9 o'clock we noticed the sky looking suspicious again so we decided to head for the car.  The first drops fell right after we loaded everyone and everything.  Our timing with the rain was impeccable.

9.  On the way home, the sunset looked like it was painted using glow in the dark paint.

Hot Rocks: Have You Tried These?

Last night, some friends had us over for a most delicious dining experience.  They heated "hot rocks" (slabs of some kind of stone) up on the stove, then transfered them in nifty metal holders to the table, and we cooked our own steaks on them. I don't think I'll be able to eat steak any other way ever again. I'm ruined I tell you.  I can never go back.  Not only was it an element of entertainment, the best part was that every single bite of steak was hot and cooked to perfection.  Yum.

How was your May?  I have to say, I haven't really minded the weather.  It's been rather pleasant I think, although, snow at the end of May was a little odd.  

With the end of the school year came recitals, choir concerts, assemblies and chaperoning fieldtrips galore.  Brian ran a marathon.  Katie Jane turned one.  We planted a garden.  My mother in law said that May is more busy than December when you have kids because we aren't expecting it to be so busy the way we are expecting the holiday rush.  I wonder if she is right?

Sophie and Ian started baseball which means we have had games four nights per week and practices on two more.  It's busy, but, they love it and the coaches are amazing.  It only lasts for seven weeks.

I realized earlier this week that Brian and I hadn't had a night out in over a month.  I was starting to feel pretty burned out.  We agreed to go out on Friday night and I was counting down the days.  A date at the Cheesecake Factory got me to start unwinding.  The date was great, the food a little rich for my liking, and the key lime cheesecake was a little slice of heaven.  A yoga class followed by a quiet Saturday morning to get caught up on some writing put me in a deeper state of relaxation.  Then, my mom picked me up and we spent the whole day together.  I finally got to use some gift cards I got for my birthday and I found my new favorite shirt.  

All of that was followed by the steaks on hot rocks at a friend's house, and, well, I'm finally feeling brave enough to face summer vacation.

Lately I'm feeling very inadequate to raise four kids.  My mom raised four kids and I asked her seriously how she did it?  I feel like, on the one hand, I don't want my kids to get one minute older because I love this moment so much and at the exact same time I need some peace and quiet and/or a nap.  I'm trying to figure out the balance so I can enjoy my kids more without feeling so overwhelmed all the time.  My mom said the secret is finding one thing that is just for me to look forward to each day.  I'm thinking I need to take more breaks.  Like a date night every week for starters.  What have you found that works to ease the burnout of the non-stop-wouldn't-trade-it-for-the-world job of mom? 

Solitude

Sometimes, amidst all of the questions and requests and stories and 'mommy look at me's', I start to daydream about what it use to be like to have my own thoughts.  I mean, I love these moments.  Sometimes my ears just get tired.  Or, I'm trying to drive someplace and I don't know how to get there or cook while reading a recipe or compose a grocery list or reflect on how I'm going to get one child to his preschool graduation and another child to a baseball game at the same time.

I've been trying to get my tires rotated.  I got the tires at Costco and I've been in twice this month, but, both times the wait was longer than I was willing to brave with the kids in tow. On Monday morning, the 3rd grade hike was cancelled due to inclement weather (aka snow in May) and not wanting to waste a perfectly good babysitting trade, I headed solo to Costco where I was told my tires would be rotated in 1.5 hours.

I knew that shopping around would only cause me to spend 100s of dollars.  One pass by a table of darling organic cotton baby girl PJs confirmed that suspicion.  Instead I headed over to the elusive massage chair for a demo.  My head was dizzy with the notion of a whole 1.5 hours alone with my thoughts.  "Quick!  Think about something important!"  I demanded to myself. My mind raced for a few minutes, but, I couldn't really pinpoint any important thoughts.  So, I just relaxed and thought about nothing except how the "heat" option really made the massage chair even more awesome and about the display of energy efficient, water saving toilets right in front of me.  I figured that the toilet ($95) would really be a great addition to our house since it had a "soft closing lid" and the toilet seat being dropped and slammed down puts Brian's nerves on edge.  Come to think of it, the massage chair, actually a cushion to fasten over a chair ($99) would also be welcome.   But, alas, I'd already spent all of my money for the month, so neither would be coming home with me that day.

Tonight, I was reading a recipe and cooking dinner while texting Brian about how we were going to get Ian to his baseball game at the exact same time as Isaac's preschool graduation. Isaac was on the kitchen floor next to me putting a giant bug puzzle together and asking me all sorts of questions like:

"If frogs eat flies and spiders eat flies, do frogs also eat spiders?"

"Do some ants pinch spiders?"

"Do some spiders eat ants?"

And, about 45 variations of the above.

While we are on the topic of deep thoughts by Isaac, I just want to add that last week he asked if Jesus created Santa Claus since He created everything and if the earth is spinning then why don't the cars go upside down while they are driving down the road?

But, back to the story of tonight:

There I was reading a recipe, cooking on three burners, coordinating with hubby via text, and fielding questions when, Brian decided to call so we could talk instead of texting.  While holding the phone, I accidentally slopped a bunch of food I was cooking from the pot onto the already messy stovetop.  Just then, Ian's friend who was over to play came in and said his mom was here and he had to go.  Of course by this point, I was ignoring Isaac's questions causing him to become obliviously frustrated and say "mom" with increasing volume over and over until finally I hung up the phone and said "WHAT?" in a rather loudish voice. 

Using this loudish voice caused me to pause and reflect upon what was happening here.  And, I thought back to yesterday and how I was able to have my thoughts all to myself for a morning.  

I decided that having my own thoughts is overrated compared to a rousing discussion about entomology with my four-year-old.    

Surprises

On the day before my birthday in early April, we received over 6 inches of snow.

On the day after Katie's birthday late in May, we had a downpour of rain followed by puffy flakes of snow.  In May.  The last week of May.

The house is quiet right now.  Ian is at a photo assignment with his dad.  Isaac is napping soundly on the couch.  Sophie and Katie are playing on our new trampoline.

Isaac was a very calm baby.  He was docile and quiet for the first twelve months of his life.  One week after he turned one, we moved to China.  On our second day there, I took the kids on a walk to a park near our new home.  A group of Chinese women gathered around to stare at us and talk in Chinese about the strange foreign woman with her huge family of three kids (I had yet to learn this would happen everywhere we went).   I was a stranger in a foreign land and I hadn't even recovered from jet lag or learned to say "hello" properly.  Suddenly, Isaac didn't get his way about something and, to my shock and surprise, he laid right down on the ground and started kicking his feet, pounding his fists and screaming (he's really cute when he screams by the way).  

It took a few minutes for me to register what was going on.  Before that moment, none of my kids had ever thrown a tantrum quite like this.  Especially not my quiet baby Isaac.

The Chinese ladies were all staring at me to see what I would do.  I had no idea how tantrums were viewed in their culture.  Was it a poor reflection on my mothering?  In America I would have probably just made a joke about it, muttered something about determination or naptime and smiled, but here, I didn't even speak the language.

I scooped him up, corralled my 5 and 3 year-year-olds, and headed home.  It would prove to be the first of many screaming spectacles that continue to happen today.

Now my baby girl is one.

Already she has shown some traits of that curious older brother of hers.  Her calm nature as a baby.  Her bright blue eyes.  The way she cannot be restrained by the high chair, grocery carts or the kitchen table booster.  A tremendous love for being outdoors.  A knack for making everyone laugh with her antics.  

Oh!  Just this second as I was typing, Sophie brought her inside and she is screaming in protest and casting accusatory looks at her sister (she's really cute when she screams by the way).  No kicking and screaming.  Not yet.

Now the house is no longer quiet.

Ian and Brian are coming home soon.

Isaac is waking up from his nap.

Sophie and Katie are inside playing with some noisy new birthday toys.  Katie has found a piece of pineapple to make her happy and she is making me laugh with her antics (shaking her head "yes" and "no" with a mischievous look on her face and rocking out to a musical toy).

I hope we're ready for whatever surprises life has in store for us.  

Saturday's Thoughts

Dear Katie,

On this day one year ago, I awoke early from dreams of a nine-pound baby.  

I had gone to sleep the night before thinking that perhaps I should be pregnant for 10 months instead of 9.  I was nervous.  How would I take care of four children when I barely had the energy to take care of three?  I thought it safer to keep you in my belly for awhile.

But, my Doctor had said you were growing fast and approaching nine-pounds.  So when I woke up one year ago today, I suddenly felt that you needed to come out before you grew anymore.  

I spent the day eating Indian food and thinking about how to get you to make your appearance in the world.  At the end of the day, the moment I laid my head on my pillow, you decided it was time.

You were born in the wee hours of the next morning.  You were perfect and beautiful and not (not quite) nine-pounds.  You had delicate features and perfectly arched eyebrows.  I dressed you all in pink.

I brought you home hoping I was ready for whatever adjustments we would have to make to ensure your comfort.  But, you were so content and sweet from the beginning.  You didn't have your days and nights mixed up.  You slept for five-hour stretches.  You didn't need a binky or your thumb to soothe yourself, you loved to snuggle with something soft and gently suck on your own tongue.

You've always eaten like a champ and have grown into an adventurous palette with salmon, avocado, pineapple, yams and ginger mango as some of your favorites.  

At nine-months you learned to crawl not only up, but also safely down the stairs.  At eleven months plus one-week, you took your first steps.  After every few steps you would stop and look around expectantly, waiting for your applause.  I guess you are use to all eyes on you growing up with so many admirers.  

Now that you are turning one, you entertain yourself by toddling all over the house.  Your favorite game is emptying any drawers and bins you can get your hands on.  You helped me plant our garden by eating fists full of dirt.  You love to wear grown up shoes (on your hands and your feet).  You are beginning to express big opinions about things, like the way you howled so loud when we brought you indoors this afternoon when you preferred to stay outside.  You love to hold eye contact and flash your shy smile.  You always giggle.  You always make us laugh.  I think you and your brother Isaac really "get" each other.  Sophie and Ian are so taken with you.  Another sister is just what our family needed.  

It's definitely been the fastest year of my life so far and I can't believe you are already one.  I will keep my fingers crossed that time will slow just a little so I can savor the moments of your babyhood some more.

Love,

Mom

Character

My Pappa is proud of the fact that he has always been a contributor to society. He's never drawn an unemployment check. He helped his parents during the Depression. He helped out his country during the war. He stayed behind in Germany after the war had ended to serve in refugee camps and he helped deliver three babies. He sewed little outfits for them because their mothers had nothing.

My Pappa is proud of the fact that he has helped out many people in need. From a stranger asking for gas money to a friend dying of cancer, my Pappa loves to help out people who are down and out. Once, when he was in grade school, he fought a bully who teased a smaller kid and made the smaller kid wet his pants. My Pappa got in trouble for fighting but he told the bully he was always going to stand up for the little guy, no matter what the consequences.

My Pappa is a hard worker. At one of the mines where he worked, he accepted all of the overtime he could and at the end of five years he was 26-hours shy of having averaged 80 hours every week. Once, when there was an emergency in the mines, he worked for 36 hours straight with only one break to eat. That was hard, but, not as hard as when he landed in Normandy and was stuck in a fox hole with barely any food or water for three whole weeks.

Growing up, he had very little in terms of material things. He remembers a time when he was so poor, he didn't have a penny on him. His friend had one dime and they split a 10-cent bowl of chili to keep from going hungry. "Now that is poor," he said, "when you only have one dime between the two of you and that dime isn't even yours."

Once, when the mines were doing poorly and he was looking for work, (he and my Mamma had only one baby at the time), he woke up one morning to learn that they had no money left and only a little milk and one box of cereal. He went out and found a job that day, but, he had to get an advance on his pay from his new boss to get the gas he needed to drive back home. That's what I call cutting it awfully close. But, he worked hard all of his life and saved all that he could, and, now he's been on a 24-year vacation (since he retired at 62), and, he's been able to see what it is like to have everything he ever wanted in terms of material possessions.

He has four motorcycles, two houses, an assortment of cars. He can go where he wants and buy what he wants. I bet he never could have dreamed this life during the Great Depression or those early years of marriage when the mines were doing poorly. Seeing these examples in his life gives me hope that things will always turn out for the best in the end if we work hard and be patient.

My Pappa is a great man, a phenomenal story teller, and a master at wordplay. Today, Isaac was trying to kiss my nose and my Pappa looked at him seriously and said, "You know, some people Knows All, but other people are All Nose."

He also quipped, "I've never been out done, but I've done without a lot."

And, he loves to say at mealtimes, "I don't care much about eating anymore. The only times I ever do it are when I'm with people and when I'm by myself."

I asked Ian tonight what he would always remember about his Pappa, and he said, "his jokes." Sophie said she will remember that he fought in the war for our freedom. I will always remember this visit. And, the summers with the fireflies at his house by the train tracks and the bike rides to the Dairy Queen for Blizzards. I will always remember his optimism. His strength. His character. His words to me today about enduring all with a good attitude.

Enjoying the Journey

A friend of mine has three gorgeous daughters, all with shiny brown locks and chocolate eyes and all beautiful in their own unique ways.

One time when Sophie was one-year-old, and my friend's daughters were 3, 5 & 7, I decided to take them to the Treehouse Children's Museum.

We were sitting quietly in the art garden working on some drawings (did I mention that these sweet girls are also fabulously well behaved?) and someone came up to me and asked me if all four girls were mine.  I explained that they were not.  

In my mind, I thought, "I wish they were."

For one thing, that would mean I had birthed four children and looked awesome (I had just lost the post-baby weight and gotten back into my skinny jeans).  They really were a delightful group.  And, four girls - Can you imagine?

For another thing, that would have meant I had already endured four pregnancies and was now reaping the rewards of enjoying my four kids.  "How wonderful it would be," I thought, "to be done with pregnancy."

Sophie's pregnancy had been pretty tough, and, it was just the tip of the iceburg.

But, here I am now.  With four kids.  Done with pregnancies.  And, in some ways it is a relief, but, in other ways, it is sad.  

I guess all those years ago, when I was daydreaming about the day I would be done, I was just thinking about all the challenges and discomforts of pregnancy.  I wasn't appreciating the anticipation and joy.

The other day, my mom took my Pappa to Smith and Edwards because it is one of his favorite stores.  He walked up and down the aisles looking things over, picking things up and putting them back down.  He usually likes to buy things when he goes shopping.  But, this time he didn't make a single purchase.  "I guess I've got enough stuff already," he said.  

And, I've been thinking about that.  To live 86-years and wake up one morning and realize you have everything you've ever needed and ever wanted.  

I was organizing the children's books the other day and I thought about how I started collecting them  when I was just a teenager.  How exciting it was to see the list of titles grow.  By the time I became a mom I had about twenty books.  I would go to bookstores and buy up my favorites one at a time.  

Goodnight Moon

The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry and The Big Hungry Bear

Harold's Purple Crayon

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

The Snowy Day

We joined a bookclub and added the Dr. Seuss Classics.  I bought educational reads at Usborne parties.

When the kids went to school, I would get so excited every time they brought home a book order - circling all of my favorites with a highlighter and then buying the best deals.  My mom bought us rows and rows of chapter book classics at yard sales.  I still love books, but, I've come to realize that we finally have enough.  Our bookshelf is full.  There are plenty of titles to choose from.  Now, I send most of the bookorder forms to the recycling bin.  

As I was organizing the books the other day, I thought about how fun the anticipation was when I was just beginning my collection.  Back then, it seemed like a huge library would be the ultimate.  But, it turns out the journey was sure a lot of fun.

Then, I thought about our family and how I didn't even realize it so much while it was happening, or, I at least didn't appreciate it until the third baby and even more by the fourth -- but, as it turns out, the anticipation of bringing a new person in the world really is one of the best parts of life.

And having them here is pretty nice too.

On the Road of Life

When my Pappa talks about his life, he frequently uses miles to measure time. For example:

"After your Mamma's heart surgery, the insurance had paid the hospital over 1 million dollars and they asked me for $27,000 more. After I paid them, I told your Mamma, 'Those hospitals aren't going to have all of our money' and I went down to the dealership and bought a brand new van. Did you know your Mamma rode over 86,000 miles in that van? And now it has over 190,000 miles on it. I decided it was time to retire it, but, it has so many nice memories that I just parked it in the garage and stopped driving it. My children can decide how to dispose of my things after I am gone. I like to have them around for the memories."

Miles to measure a lifetime. Over 40,000 miles on his motorcycles in the past 5 years. Over 500,000 miles on motorcycles in his lifetime.

When my Pappa was a young married man, he got a job at a coal mine in Kentucky. Because of his expertise with electricity, he became an instructor. When my mom (the third of his four children) was seventeen, he got a better job at a coal mine in Tuscola, Illinois and the family moved.

While he was a young father working at the coal mine in Kentucky, he met a man who was trying to figure out how to get to Arizona to visit his family. My Pappa decided to give him a ride. After finishing a day shift at the mines on a Friday, he loaded the man on the back of his motorcycle and took off. They traded turns driving for about 30 hours and then arrived at their destination. My Pappa stayed in Arizona for less than 12 hours, using a few hours of that time to get some sleep, then he got back on the motorcycle by himself and headed home. He arrived in Kentucky four hours before his night shift began on Monday. My Pappa likes a challenge.

"I know how to do things really fast. I can sleep eight hours in two if I need to," he likes to say with a smile.

My Pappa loves to drive. He would never fly. He would stay home before he would fly.

He has had a lot of nice vehicles in his lifetime. He measures time in miles and he remembers important events with story openers like, "That was the year we bought that Buick . . ."

All of the vehicles my Pappa has owned have been so well cared for, they have looked like showroom models. On any given Saturday, he could be found outdoors gardening and washing down his cars by hand. Gently rubbing them dry with towels.

"Now that is what I call productive energy," he would tell us. "You won't never find me in a gym, nosiree. I get all the exercise I need through hard work. Productive energy."

After the accident, the Doctors told my Pappa he would never drive again. Those are words that nobody wants to hear, but, you can see how they would especially be the worst thing to tell my Pappa.

He will never be able to drive a motorcycle again. But, he proved the Doctors wrong on one account when he started driving a short time after he completed physical therapy.

In physical therapy, he had to learn to walk again and how to feed himself again. I can't imagine a person of his age being able to make such a miraculous recovery. He likes to tell the joke, "After I learned to walk again and get myself dressed again, they decided I could go home, but, when they handed me the pen to sign out I realized I couldn't write so they had to take me back and teach me to write again!"

After all that, he could finally drive again. And, now, it's not even a year later and he's driven all the way from Kentucky to Utah to visit us.

We're awfully lucky he can drive because he certainly would never have flown out to see us. He doesn't measure his life in frequent flyer miles, it's miles on the road.

Larger Than Life

You can see how I always thought he was more than six-feet tall.

Having Everything

Late in the summer of '08, I had a strong urge to load my kids in our van and drive to Kentucky to visit my Pappa. I wanted to sear his memory into my children's minds. I wanted them to take one spin on the Valkerie or the Harley with him. I wanted to hear his WWII accounts. I wanted to laugh at his jokes. Most importantly, I wanted to record his stories so I could take them out and remember them later after the inevitable end to his mortality.

Driving that far with the kids was daunting. School started, and then I was expecting another baby.

Just after I had my little Katie Jane, there was the motorcycle accident and I thought it was too late.

Now, here he is. Like a cat with nine-lives. Returned from the dead. I am filled with joy by his presence and so grateful that he has recovered his former self (except that he can no longer turn his head side to side because of a metal plate and fused vertebrae). But, the energy, the optimism, the humor -- they are all still there.

My Pappa tells a joke almost every time he opens his mouth.

Yesterday, he was sitting in my front room when a flash flood hit. The kids were mesmerized and soon we were all staring across the front porch watching a river of water cover the entire sidewalk while another swift river filled the gutter and spread out into the street. It was trash day. My van was parked on the street. The water picked up several trash cans, turned them over and smashed them into my front bumper, spilling the garbage into little whirlpools of rain water. A garbage truck rolled helplessly by. A neighbor braved the downpour to right a few rogue trash cans and my Pappa called out, "It looks like the rain collected the garbage today."

That is how he is. Always trying to get a laugh. Always telling a story in a serious way until he gets to the punch line and you realize the whole thing was nonesense. Always turning things into puns. Like, last night he said to Ian:

"Learn all you can and can all you learn."

Canning up your knowledge, like preserving the fall harvest into jars. Clever.

This morning he said to me:

"I never was much of a ladies man, but, I always wanted to be a man for the ladies."

And, there are 100 more Pappa-isms that will forever be forgotten when he is gone because I will not be able to recall them and write them down in time.

My Pappa has always been a hard worker.

He is one of eighteen children born to a miller. His father had ten children with his first wife, and, after she died, he had eight more children with his second wife. My Pappa is the fourth child born to the second wife.

When he was young, they would move from farm to farm in Kentucky and Tennessee every few years. His father would clear the timbers and mill them into Railroad ties.

He only had shoes in the winter.

He helped out on his neighbor's farm for 25-cents per day, even though other farmers paid as much as 50-cents per day. Then, at fourteen, he got his first job as a night watchman for ten-dollars per week.

He lived through The Depression.

When he was seventeen he joined the "3-C's," the Civilian Conservation Corps. As many young boys at the time did, he travelled around digging trenches and such and sending his pay home to his parents. When that ended, he was able to finish up his high school diploma before being drafted into the army.

I never really understood the Great Depression until Sophie and I read the Kit series of the American Girl books a few years ago. Those economic hard times weren't like the hard times of today - you know, where people have to cut back to one Disneyland trip this year instead of two, or, something like that. I never realized that several public schools just shut down completely because of lack of funding. The ones that did stay open operated with cracked windows (no money for repairs when things broke down), 2-3 students sharing one desk, and many teachers teaching without pay. Parents really had to decide which child to feed and which would have to go hungry on any given day. I really can't begin to comprehend such circumstances and hope I never have to.

My Pappa lived through all of that.

And, he was a hard, hard worker.

At one point, while he was a teenager, he had a job that paid 30-cents per hour. All the other boys worked 8-hours per day, but, he worked 10, bringing his wages to $3 per day. He still gave most of his earnings to his parents, but he saved up $416 to buy his first motorcycle when he was 18.

He has always loved things that go -- prized automobiles that he has cared for meticulously in his garage, and, he's never been without a motorcycle since he bought that first one so long ago. In fact, right now, he owns four motorcycles.

But, he did have to leave that first motorcycle to go serve his country.

In the army he studied medicine as a surgical tech, but, his real interest was in electricity. He went overseas on a ship, first to England, and from there, he was put on a boat believing he was headed to Africa. It wasn't until after the boat left the harbor that the true plan was revealed.

My Pappa was among the brave soldiers who stormed the beaches at Normandy. Just this morning he was relating to me how more than 24,000 men died before his eyes. "And they weren't just men. They were someone's son and someone's brother and someone's friend," he told me soberly.

The events of WWII were so horrifying that my Pappa has never been back to Europe even though he has been retired for 20-something years and traveled the U.S. extensively. "I've already seen Europe and I don't never want to go back," he says.

In fact, he never spoke about his experiences as a soldier. Not ever. Not to anyone. Until after my Mamma's death twelve years ago. Somehow the pain of her passing opened him up to telling some of what he saw.

There is nothing in this world that makes me appreciate that war and my freedom more than hearing my Pappa's stories.

The other day he was talking about what it was like to grow up without electricity and indoor plumbing.

"We didn't have four bedrooms and a bath. We had four rooms and a path."

He talked about heating water for the removable bathtub. It must have been daunting. He pointed to the gallon of milk on the table and said, "We didn't have conveniences like this. We didn't get our milk in a jug from the grocery store. We had to go outside and get it from the cow." I commented on how hard it must have been and he said:

"Oh, that was nothing. What was hard was living in a tent in Europe during The War. There were nights when I was so cold I shook all night long and did nothing but pray for the morning to come. After you experience something like that, it was quite like paradise to come back to the home and the conditions I have described to you."

His father died while he was serving his three-years overseas.

He had to stay in Germany for one year after The War ended to help give medical attention to the war refugees. He helped deliver three babies and sewed little outfits to give to the mothers.

"Pappa, I didn't know you could sew!"

A twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, yes. I can sew and do lots of other things too."

There must be so many things I don't know about his 86 1/2-years on this earth.

He came home just before Christmas and met my Mamma. His younger sister was engaged to her brother and my Mamma and his sister were friends. Five months later, all four of them went down to the courthouse and had a double wedding ceremony.

This morning he was describing to me how my Mamma was the only woman he has ever fallen in love with.

They lived with his mom for part of their first years together and they lived with his aunt too. Eventually they bought a little home and he remembers when they bought one of their first pieces of furniture -- a cabinet with a built in washbasin for the kitchen.

"I love you and someday we will have everything," he told my Mamma on their wedding day.

In 1966, he was doing well with his job as an electrician for the coal mines and he surprised my Mamma with a new Chevy Impala making them a two-car family. "I told you we would have everything," he reminded her when she expressed her happy surprise.

Later, after he retired and they began their travels in the motorhome, she turned to him and said, "James, I never thought we would have it so good."

"I told you someday we would have everything."

My Pappa is a hard, hard worker.

And, according to him, he has had everything he ever wanted in this life.

"And, the good thing about the terrible experiences of the war is that they have made me appreciate all of the good in my life, like being here with you today," he said.

Greatest Generation

One my earliest memories is of my mom holding the phone up to my ear and hearing my Pappa (her father) say in his thick southern accent, "Show me your million dollar smile girl!"  I would grin ear to ear and he would pretend to see it through the phone and admire how pretty it looked.

My dad grew up in Idaho and my mom grew up in Kentucky.  My mom's family moved to Illinois when she was a teenager and my dad moved to Illinois to go to college.  They met, fell in love, married, and bought a home down the street from my mom's parents.  My older brother and I were born, and then, when I was just over a year old, we moved to Boise, Idaho.

So, for the first year of my life, I was really close to my Mamma and Pappa.  After that, I grew up seeing them every summer.  We traded off.  One summer, they would come to visit in their gigantic motor home with their wiener dog named "Corny," because he was golden brown like a perfectly fried corn dog.  Corny was so strong, he could pull us on our skateboards using a leash.  We gave him baths in the upstairs tub.  I still remember how his short hair felt stiff when it was wet and lathered with shampoo.

I loved that green and cream colored motor home and I shudder to think how insensitive I must have sounded when I would ask my Mamma and Pappa to leave me their motor home after they died so I could live in it with my family and we could travel the world.

My Mamma was a sweetheart and always had spearmint gum.  She passed away shortly before I got engaged and she is now laid to rest in a picturesque cemetery in Kentucky.

Every other summer, when I was growing up, we would make the grueling trek east to Illinois. Thirty hours in the car.  Twenty-four after they raised the speed limit when I was a teenager.  

I remember watching out the window as the world changed from mountainous and colorful to monotone flat green fields of swaying crops.  It was such a shock to the system to suddenly hit humidity in the middle of the hot summer.  Those car rides built endurance.

But, once we got to Illinois, it was a wonderful reunion.  We liked to play in the giant gravel piles, catch fireflies, take long motorcycle rides with Pappa and smash pennies on the railroad tracks.  I loved standing close to the tracks and feeling the rush of the trains going by.  I loved the beautiful home cooked meals by my mom and my aunts and My Mamma.  

My grandparents had a bunch of bicycles in their garage and several times during our visits all of the aunts and uncles and cousins would ride to the Dairy Queen for the most modern treat -- blizzards -- in so many different varieties we could spend the whole time just talking about the endless possibility of combinations.

My Pappa was born in 1923.  I always thought he was the tallest man around, but, it turns out he's just six feet even.  He lived through the Great Depression and spent three years of his life serving our country in World War II.  He will be 87-years-old in September of this year.  He has put more than 500,000 miles on his motorcycles in his lifetime.

Up until last year, he was still driving a Harley.  

Until last spring when the car in front of him stopped and he didn't and the wreck was so bad it broke his neck.  The Doctor said it was a very serious break and should have killed him or at least paralyzed him from the neck down.  After several near death encounters and weeks in intensive care followed by many more weeks in physical therapy, he made a full recovery, proving what I had believed all along:

That he is Super Hero.

Last Thursday, guess who showed up on my doorstep?

Without any warning, he got in his car and drove 26-hours (plus two hours that he stopped to sleep along the way) to Utah for a surprise visit.  

How amazing is that?

I've loved having him here for one more chance to hear his stories.  My Pappa can talk for hours.  He is the teller of stories.  And, I don't want to forget them.

Our Conversation at Breakfast

Brian: "Amy, I feel like there is really no way for me to ever show how much I really appreciate all of the laundry you do."

Me: "Thanks for noticing and you are welcome."

A few minutes pass . . .

Me: "Did you know, for Christmas one year, Dori's husband gave her a card telling her he would do all of the laundry for one year? For one year! And, they have six kids. And, he did all of the laundry for a whole year. Can you believe that!?"

Awkward pause.

Brian: "Like I said, there is really no way for me to show my appreciation for all of the laundry you do."



Am I the only one whose laundry increases exponentially as the family grows?

The Best Part

Conversation while lying next to Isaac trying to get him to go to sleep last night:

Me:  Isaac, what was your favorite part about today?

Him:  Right now.

Am I the only one who feels a tinge of strangeness during conference weekend while trying to watch with small kids?  Normally, I should not be ignoring my kids to stare at the T.V., but on this weekend, I really need to get them to quiet down so I can stare at the T.V. for eight hours in two days time.  

Yesterday, when the morning session began, I must have asked my kids twelve times (in a calm voice) to quiet down so I could listen.  And, that was all before the second speaker.  Sister Beck was about halfway through her talk when I had a little meltdown, turned to my kids and, in a raised voice, said, 

"I'm. Trying. To Listen. To. Conference! Be. Quiet. NOW!"  

I don't raise my voice at my children a lot.   

They were stunned to silence and turned their attention to their conference bingo and their ears to the speaker in hopes of crossing off more squares (to claim some big prize in primary next week).  Right at that exact moment, the next words out of Sister Beck's mouth were about the duty of mothers to bring the spirit into the home and to not lose their tempers with their children.  

In a very surreal moment Sophie and Ian turned their attention away from their bingo cards and shot me simultaneous sideways glances.

I don't think I'm going to hear the end of this one for quite some time.

  

Girlfriend Getaway

Before I got married, I loved to travel.  I mean, lots of people like to travel, but, I was passionate about it.  Traveling fed my soul.

Pre-kids, Brian and I did a fair amount of travel.  Road trips, Hawaii, East Coast, West Coast, etc. Since having kids, we've taken family vacations.  There have been a few getaways without the kids.  Brian has traveled alone for work, and, from time to time, for pleasure.  I, on the other hand, have not taken a single trip without hubby and/or kids since we wed eleven years ago.  Nada.  Not even one overnighter.  Probably not even eight consecutive hours away.

This occurred to me only recently.  

I decided it was high time to do something about it.  On the spur of the moment, I purchased a plane ticket to visit my very generous friend who lives near Washington D.C. for five days and six nights!!!

So, my husband who has never been alone with the kids for even one night, suddenly had the three oldest for nearly a week!  I'm glad to say, he rose to the occasion.

My trip was amazing.  It was massages, pedicures, movies, homemade hot fudge on ice-cream, shrimp and grits, shopping, relaxing on the couch, staying up late, sleeping in, no housework, eating out and lots and lots of chats with my good friend who I met my freshman year of college (we won't worry ourselves about how long ago that was).  It was oh so relaxing.  It was a vacation for my mind and body.  It completely fed my soul.

And, guess what?  The earth did not fall out of orbit while I was gone. My thanks to many wonderful friends and family members for making this getaway happen.  I arranged for Isaac to be watched by a different friend or Aunt each day and a babysitter came over after school to stay with the other two until Brian came home from work.  See what a difference a day shift can make?  Brian spoiled our kids with Lucky Charms and Coco Puffs, and took them to Dinosaur Park and the Treehouse Museum and the Pizza Factory in between.  

In fact, when I came home, the kids said, "Wow!  We had a great time!  You should take trips more often Mom!"  

Really?

I think I just may.

Time Warp

My baby is nine-months-old. It has officially been the fastest nine-months of my life. Time has sped by and I've barely taken any time to record the moments. Like, the sweet way Katie use to suck on her toes every time I held her feet up for a diaper change. Wow, that baby has stolen all of our hearts. Now, when I change her diaper, she's usually doing this:

Crawling away.

We rarely get to see her doing this: Sitting still.

And, on the day this photo was taken, she pulled that flower off so many times she finally succeeded in ripping it right off the clip.

Do you see the mischievous twinkle in her eye?
Let's just say the days of her napping quietly on my lap during a movie are officially over.

Katie and my mom.

At the beginning of the winter, I bought these monkey p.j.'s for Katie. The next time I saw my mom, she gave me these monkey p.j.'s for Sophie. We bought them matching jammies without knowing it.

I never knew Sophie would be this excited to have a sister.

Or, that all of us would adore this baby girl so much.