First Day of School 2013

(Sophie is 5' 5", and you can see that Ian is right behind her in height . . . They are growing up so fast)

The year my parents dropped me off at college, my mom cried while my dad drove them home.  When she arrived home, she took a walk that lasted several miles until her tears were all cried out.  I never knew this story until years later.  And, when I heard it, I was bewildered as to why she was so emotional about my departure to a college a mere hour away from home.

But, as the years go by, I understand more and more how she must have felt.  

This year, I have a serious case of the end of summer blues.  It feels like another marker of the passage of time.  Another summer with my kids is gone and it isn't coming back.  Did we have enough fun?  Did we make enough memories?  Did I pay enough attention?

Now, here they are -- my big 7th grader Sophie who started junior high, Ian in the 5th grade, and Isaac (who at least still seems like a little kid) is off to 2nd grade.

I took them to their back to school nights last week.  I was so overwhelmed at Sophie's that it made me wonder how I ever survived junior high myself?  The halls were so crowded and hot as we wandered through the building looking for all her different classrooms, meeting all eight of her teachers, getting lists of all the supplies she needed.  And, I noticed a smell that I recognized from my days in junior high and high school.

What is that smell?  Not a bad smell, but something that is the same as it was 20 years ago.  Industrial carpet?  Glue?  I have no idea.

Sophie was completely calm about the whole thing and seemed so nonchalant.  But, this morning when I pulled up to drop her off, it was a different story.  Suddenly, she looked at me and said, "I'm scared."  It was like I could feel the butterflies that were bouncing around her stomach inside myself.  I felt like a mother bird booting her baby right out of the nest as I hurriedly assured her she would be fine and practically pushed her out the van door. 

I paused for a moment to watch her walk down the street toward the school.  She didn't look back.  In my mind's eye I could see my little Sophie skipping off to first grade, waving all the way, as I watched from the car.  It was a similar moment.  Except that now she is practically a lady.

Yes -- I have the summer blues.  It is partly about the new schedule, but it is also about realizing that my influence on my children in shrinking.  Remembering the things I learned outside the classrooms in junior high and knowing that their innocence is dissolving.  

After we watched Sophie walk away, I rounded back to the elementary school and dropped off the boys.  Last year, all of my kids had great friends and teachers.  It was a blessed year.  I am praying this will be another, or that we will at least know how to handle it if it's not.

On Friday, the last day of summer vacation, Isaac and his friend (who I babysit) decided to surprise me by dumping all of the toys into a pile.  Remember how I said I had spent some time sorting our toys into nifty labeled boxes that fit neatly onto a shelf Brian built?  Well, they decided to dump all 15 bins.  There were literally over 500 blocks, hundreds more toys, and the pieces to five different puzzles mixed into a toy soup on the floor.

What makes people behave that way?

They were not super excited to spend the next two hours cleaning up the mess that took them five minutes to make.  And, let's just say, I was in extra need of a night out by the time the day was through. 

The upside of this story is that it did make it just the tiniest bit easier to send the kids back to school.

And, the happy ending is that we had a night out, with great friends, at Tona -- one of our favorite sushi spots.

Sweet Spot 2013

We are in a sweet spot of summer right now.  Almost every day - we sleep in.

When we get up -- the kids do chores.  How sweet is it when your kids do chores?

I get some writing done and then our babysitting friends come over.  There is kind of a scramble at lunchtime to feed everyone and then my helper arrives - a lovely sixteen-year-old friend who plays and plays and plays with the kids all afternoon.

She is the best.  I love her too much to articulate.

So, all of the kids play and are cared for and loved while I write the afternoon away.

That is how our days go mostly.  But, we try to mix it up a bit too.  Like last week, I took all of the kids to the mountains with friends.  They played in a stream and roasted things over a fire.  The week before that, we all went swimming with friends.  I love backyard pools and it felt like a little piece of paradise.  Yesterday, we went to the Children's Treehouse Museum with friends.

Sometimes we go out and sometimes we stay in.  But, mostly, we are never in too much of a rush these days.  And, I like it.

I am looking ahead - as I always do - to the new schedule that is about to come upon us.  We have only 2 1/2 weeks left before the kids go back to school!  I am looking ahead, and I see that I am going to spend a lot of time in the van.

I know that everyone talks about driving and how you have to do more of it as your kids get older.  I thought we were already in that spot -- shuttling the kids around to all of their activities.  But, the upcoming school year is taking it to a whole new level.

It is mostly just quick trips here and there, but with such short breaks in between that it leaves you wondering what to do?  A friend suggested that I keep everyone buckled up and park for a few of the 30 minute pauses and I think she is right.  It just doesn't make sense to go home for such a short time when you are going to spend all of it loading and unloading people in and out of carseats.

Three days a week, this driving will start at 11:30 a.m. and pretty much continue through the rest of the day.  Including picking up kids from four different schools between 2-3 p.m.  I haven't even added piano lessons, dance classes and sports to the schedule, and already I am tired.

The good news is -- the van.  I have been wanting to devote an entire post to how much I love the van I am driving right now.

I am totally geeking on the van.

Ever since I started babysitting, having enough seatbelts has posed a real problem.  At first I had six seatbelts and six kids (plus me, so we were always one short).  We upgraded to seven seatbelts and all was well for a very short time until I had another baby and we were one seat short again.

Not having enough seatbelts is a real drag and I have spent a lot of mental energy stressing about how to drive kids to places they needed to go without having the ability to buckle everyone up.

I have joked that I needed a bus and now I (almost) have one -- a twelve passenger van that is.  And, it is even more beloved because it runs on natural gas.  I can actually afford to drive it.  Being able to buckle up all seven kids (and sometimes a friend or two more) has been such a blessing in my life.

I will miss these sweet days of summer when they are over and I am trying to put on my brave face as I gear up for the year of driving.  If I have to spend so much time in my van, at least it is a sweet one.

Waterfall Canyon 2013

It has been my dream for awhile to hike with the whole family up to a huge waterfall in the mountains behind our house.  This is a hike I have been doing since I was a teenager.  I took Sophie and Ian up twice when they were three and one-and-a-half.  I figured it would be an annual tradition from then on, but, by the next year when Isaac was born and my other kids were four and two-and-a-half, it became too much for me to accomplish on my own.  So, I have been waiting for the perfect time, when we could all go as a family.  Sunday evening, all planets aligned and we did it!

Sometimes, these things are a labor of love, if you know what I mean?  Not everyone was as excited as I was for this hike.  It is funny how it is easier to convince a very excited four-year-old to plug along on her tiny legs than it is to inspire an older, seemingly more capable child.  Everyone tells you that is how parenting is going to be.  "It's going to get harder," they tell you.  But, you don't believe it until it happens.  

I was ready to make this happen -- one way or the other.  But, in the end, it turned out to be a pure pleasure start to finish.  The weather even cooperated.  The extreme heat wave broke and we had delightfully cool temperatures on Saturday and Sunday.  We got a little nervous when we left that a storm was rolling in.  But, it missed us and just gave us a pleasant cloud cover instead of lightning and rain.

 

Here is a photo I took of Brian and the kids just before we reached the waterfall.  The final steps!

This is the view from the waterfall looking back over the city in the direction we just hiked in from.

Brian and the kids posed by the "waterfall."  It was just a trickle.  Some girlfriends and I did this same hike at the end of June and the waterfall was huge and flowing in full force.  I guess this is what a string of 100-degree days in July will do.  It is still a majestic cliff, and Katie and Isaac were impressed by the drizzle.  Next year, we will have to go in June for the full effect.  This photo only shows the bottom of the waterfall.  You can kind of see how high it is, off to the left in the first photo.  But, it was too tall for me to capture all of it without turning the people into specks.

We started down just as the sun was doing this.  Brian had a great idea to take a different path down so that we could walk along the ridge of the mountain and have a view of the sunset all along the way.

 This is the view I am talking about.  Breathtaking.

 And, we ended up at this perfect look-out point just as the sun made its final descent.

I love this picture of the kids.

After the sun set, we continued to head down the mountain.  The crickets began chirping and the city lights were twinkling.  It was a beautiful, perfect night for one of my favorite hikes -- waterfall canyon.

Did I mention that we walked to the trail for this hike from our house?

Thanks to my family for indulging one of my dreams.

Summer Sweets

There were the treats for the lake trip and the goodies at Lagoon.  We've taken many a side dish to cook-outs and convenience meals to eat by the pool.  Bags of chips, popcorn, candy and Cheetos.  Packages of cookies and sugared drinks.  Jars of dips and salsas.  Homemade goodies, yes -- but, truly this summer they have been mostly store bought.

Oreos, Red Vines, Junior Mints.

I feel like I have spent hundreds of dollars on empty calories this summer.  Each time I swing by the store for a few more treats -- it adds up!

The last week of school, we hosted three parties in two days.  Sophie had an end of year party that started right after school got out and Ian had an end of year party that started right after Sophie's ended.  The next day, we celebrated Katie Jane turning four.

It was actually a great idea to have Sophie and Ian's parties back-to-back.  Everything was all set up and ready to go.  I did a little clean-up and refreshed the party treats in between.  It was definitely less work than hosting them on different days.

We kept the food simple.  It looked like this:

These were taken before Sophie's party.  I added rice crispy treats for Ian's party - his special request.

The next day, we celebrated Katie's birthday.  A few weeks before, I was stressing about what the theme should be.  Then, it occurred to me to ask Katie what she wanted to do.  This is a brilliant idea, even when your child is three or four.  She gave me an idea I hadn't even thought of.

"I want to fly kites at the park," she said.

What a wonderful, simple idea.

I rolled out more party food.  I can't remember all of it, but I do know we had zebra themed plates, cups, napkins and a table cloth (she picked those out too).  I remember there were crackers and easy cheese and pink frosted cupcakes.

We celebrated at a park.  I brought several kites, giant bubble wands and pinwheels.  All those four-year-olds were darling running through the park with bubbles, colorful spinning pinwheels and soaring kites on strings.  It was a wonderful day!  What a great idea, Katie Jane.

I also grabbed the solar balloon that I bought from Stevespanglerscience.com years ago and never took out of the package.  You have to have the perfect weather conditions, 70 degrees and not too windy, to make it fly.  This day was perfect.  And, the kids LOVED it!

It is kind of like a giant (GIANT) black plastic garbage bag that is long like a huge hot dog.  When you spread it out, it inflates itself and then you can run around guiding it by a string.  It was a hit.  I am so glad I bought it three years ago and held onto it for the perfect occasion.  Sometimes things work out that way.

Tonight, the kids are having another party.  Sophie and Ian are always asking for a late over.  I decided to let them have one.  This time, on the same night, and at the same time.  The treats are popcorn, Doritos, pretzels with nutella, an assortment of Shasta, cookies, Skittles and M&Ms.  It took a little creative planning on their parts, but in the end they came to an agreement that they can watch a movie (Rise of the Guardians) -gasp- in the same room at the same time together.  This wouldn't have worked out initially, but in the end, they each only had four friends who could make it.  Then, they have agreed for one group to take the front yard and the other group the back for night games.  I wonder if they will end up doing that together too with the smaller group sizes than they were expecting?

In two weeks, we will have another party.  A big one.  Isaac is turning eight.  EIGHT!  I can't believe he is going to be eight.  What a big year for him.

I agreed to take twelve of his friends to Classic Fun Center.

I am sure it will be a great time.  Right?

I hope that someday my kids look back and appreciate the treats and the goodies and the willingness to open our home to all of their friends.  The way that I will pick up a movie or a special treat for their gatherings at the drop of a hat.  I guess that is the way I was raised.  My friends were always welcome, and my parents did little things to make it special.

My parents were always the ones to drive me and my friends wherever we needed to go.

Always.

That is the kind of parent I want to be.  A fly on the wall while we drive here and there, listening to what they talk about.  Discovering what is important to them and who they are when their friends are around.  And, I would just as soon that they be here with all of their friends where I know what they are doing.

I am grateful for the amazing friends my kids have and that we have the space in this new house to accommodate these gatherings.

This is the life I always dreamed of.

Even if the summer involves a lot of junk food.

Vegas Baby!

Today, I went to the Farmer's Market.  This is an annual tradition that I cherish every July through September.  I bought the most beautiful tomatoes, a loaf of artisan sourdough bread, freshly dug potatoes, sweet corn on the cob and other yummies.

I made these BLTs for lunch for the family

And, we ate these fresh berries for dessert

Ah, the Farmer's Market.  There is nothing like it. The nicest people you've ever met showing up on a Saturday morning to sell their organic fruits and veggies at great prices.  And, then there are all of the unique items -- the homemade spreads, the bath products and arts and crafts galore.  But, I usually stick to the produce.  It is what makes me happy.

This morning, it rained a little.  Hallelujah!  It is 1 p.m. and my phone says it is 73-degrees outside.  It feels like it has been 100-degrees (or, close to that) every day for a long time.  What a hot hot summer we have had.  

The heat really started to make an impression on me during my trip to Vegas and I haven't been able to cool off since.  

Back in June, my mom mentioned that her annual trip to Vegas with her best friend was canceled because her friend couldn't go.  They have been heading to Vegas to shop every summer for at least ten years now and my mom loves it.  I mentioned one night that maybe I could go with her, and within an hour we had booked the hotels and we were headed to Vegas!!!

While I was in Vegas, Brian took the kids camping in the Uintahs with his extended family.  Next month, I get to take them camping in Idaho with my side of the family while he stays in Utah to run a marathon. 

They were in the mountains having fun fishing and eating a new treat made over the fire called "wolf'ems" and my mom and I were having the time of our lives in beautiful Las Vegas.

My mom and I left on the last Saturday in June.  We shopped at Station Park and made our way down to St. George -- where we did more shopping.  When we arrived in St. George, the reading on her car thermometer of the exterior temperature was 120-degrees.  But, I think the actual reported high was 112-degrees.  Whew!  

We cooled off with a pecan and cherry shake at the Iceberg Drive Inn.

The next day, we rolled in to Vegas and me oh my -- it was HOT!  On the news that night, they said we tied the all time daily high temperature in Vegas of 117-degrees.  It has only gotten that hot one other time, in 1942, since they started recording the weather.  I thought it would have been even higher, but that is the truth and if you don't believe me -- google it.  June 30, 2013.  I was there and I lived to tell about it.

This time, my mom's car thermometer read the exterior temperature at 131-degrees.  Hello radiant blacktop.  And, when we would go to bed at 1 a.m., my phone would show that the temperature outside was still 106-degrees.  Past midnight!

Okay, I know I am going on a little.  But, it was amazing.

We stayed at The Orleans, an older property off the strip that was very nice and had a delicious buffet.  Yes, it really was delicious and there was lots of made-to-order stuff like omlets and Mongolian BBQ.  

On our first day, we saw the gardens and beautiful decor at the Bellagio and took a dip in the outdoor pool.  

After that, the next three days were a blur of shopping, shopping and more shopping.  We shopped at a 2-story Ross and another Ross.  There was an outlet mall and the Miracle Mile of shops.  There were shops at The Venetian and shops everywhere in between.

If shopping were an Olympic sport, my mom would have a gold medal.  That girl can shop!  She is a pro.  It never makes her tired and she always finds just the right thing.  She gets lots of good deals too.  

I found this gorgeous vase for my mantle

I never take the time to go out an look around.  So, it was nice to just look.  And, try things on.  And, think about fashion and home decor for just a few minutes.  I bought gym clothes and dresses and shoes and clothes for the children and trinkets at the specialty stores like Coca-Cola and M&Ms world.  It was a shopping extravaganza.

At night, when we were done shopping, we looked at things.  We went to all the big properties we could possibly fit in and marveled at their architecture, the decor, the curtains, the tiles in the floors, the sculptures, the photo galleries, the never ending strings of diamond beads, the lights that changed colors, the most exquisite flower arrangements, even the ornate bathrooms -- all of it was just too amazing to be true.  But, it was true.  And, that is something special about Vegas.

We caught some of the fountain shows at the Bellagio and bought water from every street vendor we passed to keep from evaporating in that heat.  

Did I mention the heat?

One night my mom took me to a buffet she and her friend discovered called The Spice Market inside Planet Hollywood.  We had to wait in line for an hour or more to get in and this couple behind us erupted into a very heated argument.  I was so uncomfortable.  I didn't know if someone was going to start swinging punches, they sounded so angry.  After a few minutes, they just kept repeating the same irritated things to each other and it was like it was never going to stop so I turned around and said firmly, "You are bothering other people in line."  Can you believe I did that?  

Luckily for me, it ended well and the husband (at least) kept his mouth shut for the rest of the time.  I was glad.  I wasn't sure how they would react, but I knew one thing -- I couldn't listen to that while waiting in that long line.  

We dined on all sorts of delicacies including crab legs and creme brulee.  

On July 4th, we drove home.  I arrived in time take the family to a fireworks show.  The boys wore the shirts my mom bought them that light up with sound activation.  Very cool.  I don't know when I have seen them so happy and getting along so perfectly.

I have been wanting to blog about my trip to Vegas and so many other things.  I was so grateful to get to spend that time with my mom.

Thanks mom.

I love my mom so much.

And, now I have a story about work.

I have spent the past 18-months doing everything required to become and stay licensed for in-home daycare.  I took CPR, got my food handler's permit and even earned my Child Development Associates.  After everything was childproofed and secured, I organized my mountain of toys into labeled bins and had Brian build a custom shelf to store them all on.

In between watching all the kids -- the daycare kids plus my own -- I wrote the weekly restaurant features for the newspaper.  And, occasionally, my editor would call me to write other features.  I had a love/hate relationship with the writing.  I loved it.  I love to write.  And, I love the interesting people I meet and the things that I learn from writing for a newspaper.  But, I hated it because it was so unbelievably stressful to have deadlines and to try to create something that was high quality in between all of the other things I was suppose to do.

I would finish a story and feel good about that, but then see that my house was a disaster zone and not feel so good about that.  I would rush to finish a story so I could read to my kids at bedtime and I would feel good about the quality time, but then I would find out I made a stupid error that I could have avoided if I had taken more time and been more careful and I would not feel so good about that.  

My life was definitely out of balance.

In May (oh May -- the busiest month of the year besides December when you have kids), I wrote a story on the Six Sisters.  They are a group of sisters living in Utah who made it big with a recipe and craft blog, published a cookbook, started recipemagic.com, hired 20 full-time employees, and basically have a sweet life financially and creatively now.  

I loved the story.  I loved interviewing the sisters.  I loved it!  I felt inspired.  Except, I also felt like it ruined my life for a week.  Every day, after watching kids for hours, I would send them home and instead of making dinner and spending a little quality time with my own children it was, "Off with you!  Mommy is busy!  Mommy has to work!"  And, I hate that.

So, as hard as it was, I said to myself that I would no longer take extra stories when my editor called.

This was a huge resolve.  I never tell her "no."  I rationalize that we need the money and I always say "yes."  For 14-years, I have never said "no."  But, I made up my mind.  The extra money wasn't worth the toll it was taking on me or my family.  Something had to give and the daycare is the bread and butter since the writing was more sporadic.

But, the next phone call I got from my editor was not what I was expecting.

She called to say that one of her full-time staff members was taken away in a re-organization and rather than replacing him, she had to find two freelancers to cover the work he had done.  So, she basically asked me to be a part-time worker, but still as a freelancer.  She needed someone to cover the theatre (not movie theater) beat and she wanted it to be me.  I was very familiar with theatre stories since I had done back-up for the regular guy for years.

I spent the weekend thinking about it and I came up with a plan.  As soon as school was out, I hired a helper.  She comes to my house for three-hours every day.  During that time, she takes care of all the kids (my kids and the daycare kids), and I sit in my office (mostly) undisturbed conducting phone interviews and writing my heart out.  

It is working great.  It turns out that doing more writing is actually better because I can plan for it and get the help that I need to cover my other responsibilities so that I can focus and get it done.  I am the happiest I have been in a long time.  I feel like such a burden of stress has been lifted from my shoulders.  

It's funny how life works out.  I only wanted to really quit writing one other time.  We had just returned home from China and my column about living with kids in China was canceled.  I was kind of sulky because I wanted them to at least finish out the series rather than end it so abruptly.  I said to myself, "I am done."  And, it was a good time to end because there wasn't any specific beat I was covering anymore.  

The next phone call I got was my editor asking me to cover restaurant features.  It is the only thing I would have said "yes" to.  It was a dream come true.  It was what I had wanted to write.

So, things are pretty good right now.

I don't think I ever blogged about how Brian was laid off from the Deseret News as the Spanish speaking photographer last February.  

That was stinky.

And scary.

They laid off the whole Spanish speaking department.  What are you going to do?  He had three great years with them.  He is now looking for a full-time job, but in the meantime, things haven't been the worst with freelance.  In fact, he's been busy.

And, the Standard Examiner decided to let him cover all of my restaurant and theatre stories.  So, it's not the worst.  

In fact, life it pretty sweet.

Summer is a blur of swimming, waterslides, hikes, trampoline parks, lakes, fun centers and other excursions geared toward the kids.  We got to spend the 23rd of July with some of our best friends at Bountiful's Handcart Days.  There was the parade (it was hot), and a BBQ (it was perfect) and a fireworks show (the BEST one we've ever seen) while sampling over 30 flavors of homemade ice-cream.

Yes, life is good.  I can't complain.  There have been free outdoor movies at the amphitheater downtown (why is it so fun to watch a movie outside?).  There was drama camp, Astrocamp, kid's camp and girl's camp.  

Our kids were in a bike parade on July 13th.  That was the other time it cooled to below 100-degrees.  Right when the parade started, the sky ripped open and dumped rain on all of those kids!  It was memorable.  They got free tickets to opening night of the rodeo for participating. 

We went to the rodeo on July 19th and I think it was the first rodeo I have really enjoyed and appreciated.  Isaac was practically skipping on air he was so excited about all of it.  Some days I want that boy to grow up just a little, but other days I am glad that he is still young enough to skip when he is happy.  

We are just soaking in the summer as much as we can.  Even if it is hot, it is still a magical time of year.

Compassion

The other day, my 7 1/2 year old Isaac and I had this conversation.

(Him):  Mommy, at school, my teacher taught us that not everyone has freedom.

(Me):  That is right, in some countries people are not free make their own choices.

(Him, after being thoughtful):  I bet it is just the kids who don't get to choose, but the grown-ups still can, right?

(Me):  No, in some countries even the grown-ups don't get to choose.  For example, right now, there are some places where all of the women have to cover every part of their body, even their face, when they go outside.

(Him, looking shocked):  Wow!  Why would they have to do that?

(Me):  Because the men who run the government don't like women and don't think they should have choices.  They don't even let women go to school.  Can you imagine if I never went to school?  Then, you would go to school and come home and ask me for help on your homework and I would say, "Sorry, I can't help you with that because I never went to school and learned how to do that."  That is why I am always telling you that we have to be grateful for our freedom, blah, blah, blah.

(Him, after looking distressed and thinking for a long time):  If that happened, I would teach you everything I learned every day when I came home from school.

I was so touched that he cared that the hypothetical me didn't get to go to school, and, even better, that he wanted to help me.

(Him, after a very thoughtful pause):  Actually, I would tell you to get away from that place and move somewhere new and then I would teach you everything I learned at school.

This conversation was a big deal to me because sometimes, as I try to unravel this mystery of a kid, I wonder if he has compassion for other people, or not?  But, to me, this seemed like a very compassionate way to approach the thing we were talking about. 

And, that makes me happy.

String of Warm Days in March

"It is so so be-you-ti-ful," she sang, twirling and taking the most dramatic bow before two more girls in twirly skirts joined her and they all danced on the front lawn.

Changing Seasons

It was a winter with a little bit of everything.  There were snowstorms that dumped and turned the landscape into something magical.  Our house had the most charming icicles for months.  We even had an ice-storm that transformed every surface into an ice-skating rink for a day.  I could have done without the nasty January inversion and the freezing cold temperatures -- but, I think we can count on that happening every winter for the foreseeable future.  We truly had it all this winter.  Now, it is spring's turn.

Today, I took a walk through the neighborhood with Katie and Isaac.  I sat on the huge rock in the corner of our yard in capris and short sleeves and watched them while they played.  Last summer, when I sat on that rock, I thought about all the ways I could make the space more enchanted.  Perhaps planting some ground cover and putting down jeweled stepping stones, I thought.  But, today, as I sat there, I realized it is probably perfect just the way it is -- an enormous flat rock near a giant pine tree at the edge of our front yard.  The kids love to play there and they always ask me to come to the rock with them.

A week and a half ago, when we arrived home from Carbon County, I searched my phone for the  weather report.  "It looks like all of the snow will melt this week," I announced.  "Impossible!" was Isaac's response.  There was still a foot covering most of our yard.  More in some places. 

But, the weather warmed up and most of the snow has indeed melted away.  Today, it reached 60-degrees.  The sunshine feels wonderful at the end of another winter.

The big news today is that the 6th grade went skiing at Snowbasin.  It was Sophie's first time hitting the slopes.  She was nervous.  I was excited for her.  Brian joined her and they both told me all about it when they got home.  I have tried to talk Sophie into trying skiing for a few years.  She was positively against it.  Not wishing to drag her kicking and screaming, I waited.  Today she finally tried it and she loved it.  I am so happy she did.  Brian said she picked it up quickly.

Now, my wish is to put Ian and Sophie in ski school next year. 

Twelve Comes With So Many Big Transitions

Sophie is twelve!  I never knew that twelve is such a milestone birthday.  She is so excited to be turning from a little girl into a young lady.  It makes my heart happy to see her enthusiasm as she embraces each new change along the journey.

For starters, there was a flurry of action to make sure she did everything to receive her Faith in God Award.  I am proud of her for taking it so seriously.

Then, there was the night of New Beginnings, which I already wrote about, that made me count my blessings for the sweet, genuine role models in our ward.

The night before her birthday, Sophie went to dance class while the Beehive adviser showed up with one of the Beehives to decorate Sophie's bedroom with streamers, banners, balloons and candy.  I don't know what could have made Sophie feel more special than coming home to that surprise.  She adores decorating and making a big deal out of holidays and special occasions (especially her birthday).

On her Birthday, she woke up to one of her favorite traditions.  One of my sweet friends brought bacon to Sophie (or Ian, I can't remember which?) on a birthday years ago.  The kids loved it so much that this thoughtful friend has continued to bring Sophie and Ian bacon on their birthdays every year since.  I don't know how she does it.  I feel like it is all I can do to get my kids ready and out the door on time, much less, cooking and delivering bacon on a school day.  But, I am very grateful that she does it for my kids.

Brian delivered purple flowers to her at school.

Brian and I picked her up at lunchtime and took her to a tiny Japanese restaurant (Temari) where we feasted on tempura shrimp and veggies.  We presented her with a silver necklace that has four hearts forming a four-leaf clover that is inscribed with the words "Lucky to Have You."  We feel so lucky to have this girl in our lives.  She loves shamrocks (and, the color green) since St. Patrick's Day falls in her birth month.

After school, a friend surprised her by taking her and some other friends out to ice-cream.

This is the moment that I realized that now, more than ever before, I have to make an effort to become the mom who picks up my daughter and her friends and takes them out to ice cream --  for someone's birthday, or just because.

Everyone says that as your kids get older - it becomes all about their friends.  I feel like this statement became true overnight.  I also became super uncool overnight.  It is like I was perfectly normal and fine the last night Sophie went to bed as an eleven-year-old.  When she woke up as a twelve-year-old, I was super embarrassing.  And, I continue to learn the many ways that I say and do weird things every day.

It's not all bad.  I think Sophie still likes me.  She is just amazed by my inability to use the right lingo. 

I probably should not even say "lingo."

She is working on a report on Russia for the country fair at school, so she has been asking me lots of questions about my experiences while living there.  It has been an amazing trip down memory lane and honestly, I feel like we are talking about a completely different person.

I pulled out some old photos and I looked goofy in every single one.  I know that usually, when you pull out old photos you say, "Oh my!  I look so young.  I didn't know I was ever so thin or that my skin was so smooth."  But, I didn't have a blow dryer or curling iron while I was there, so my hair is a fuzzy mess in every picture.  And, I had nerdy glasses.  I also followed some horrible advice going over when someone told me not to take any clothes that I liked since they would all get ruined.  Well, they may have gotten ruined, but who wants to wear ugly clothes for 6 months?  So, ugly clothes, nerdy glasses, frizzy hair.  I looked at the pictures and said, "Wow, I don't look very good in these," and, Sophie said, "Yeah, I wasn't going to say anything, but your hair looks really weird in all of them."

Sophie!

It was true though.  Just one more way that I am embarrassing I guess.  She won't be displaying any of those photographs at the fair. 

After Sophie got home from getting ice-cream with her friends, Brian and I took her to buy her very first set of leather scriptures.  She chose a triple combination with a snap - in black.  Just like mine, only a little bigger.  She got her whole name inscribed on the front.  Sophie Caroline.  I love that name.

She has wanted scriptures since she turned 8, but Brian said the tradition in his family was to wait until age 12.  So, that is what he made her do.  It has been such a long wait.  But, she was that much more excited when the day finally came.

Then, we met up with my extended family for gifts, donuts (Sophie's request rather than birthday cake), and ice-cream.  My mom got her some cowboy boots.  Shoes and jewelry -- even the gifts seem so grown-up this birthday.

Two days later, she attended her first Young Women's activity.  It was a combined activity/outing to the Weber State basketball game.  It seemed so strange sending her off to a basketball game without me or Brian.  It was fun to hear all about it when she got home. 

She has been beaming all week and tonight she is having her party with her friends.

My party planning Sophie worked out all of the details -- a food list, a furniture diagram, the activities for the evening and a guest list.  When it all seemed complete, she glanced over the list of girls and said, "Can I invite boys too?"  I said, "Sure, why not?"  And, she became exponentially more excited after that.

A lovely group of 17 boys and girls arrived at our house tonight.  Right after the first guests got here, the boys sat on one side of the room and the girls the other.  There was an awkward silence and I started to feel like I was in junior high wondering if it was going to all work out? 

But, then, my brave Sophie fired up the Karaoke machine and belted out a Taylor Swift song, as if seventeen pairs of eyes weren't even staring at her.  After that, every person in the room sang "Big Girls Don't Cry" together and the party was a hit from that moment on.

The spread included an assortment of flavored popcorn from our favorite sweet shop - the Sweet Pop'n Cafe, chocolate covered pretzels, lemonade, candy and fresh fruit.  We had Krispy Kreme donuts (instead of cake) and ice-cream. 

There was lots of rambunctious Karaoke, dancing with a disco light and a few rounds of the game mafia.  Then, the guests suggested we go outside and play night games. 

For one thing -- it was freezing.  For another thing -- I am not use to this phase of parenting where it's O.K. to have other peoples' kids playing outside after dark at my house.  I am telling you -- twelve is a milestone birthday.  Some of the kids even walked a block or two home by themselves when the party got over at 9:30 p.m.

I got over it and let them play capture the flag on the front lawn while Brian and I took turns supervising.  It was so cold.  But, of course, the kids didn't mind at all.  It was fantastic to see them running back and forth with so much energy. 

I love that there were all these wonderful kids at my house tonight and I am excited to be fully propelled into this new phase of parenthood with my daughter Sophie.  A young woman.  On the verge of junior high and the teenage years and all sorts of fun stuff.

Carbon County

Our visit to Carbon County last Saturday was a success!

We had a great time searching out the gems of Helper and Price and the weather was gorgeous -- around 50 and sunny.

First stop -- Helper (about a 2 hour drive past Salt Lake).  We ventured down the tiny Main Street and found a large statue of a miner for a photo op.

Further down the road was Helper's Western Mining and Railroad Museum.  This museum was bigger than I expected and it was also pretty cool.  It is located in a historic building with three stories plus a basement and showcases lots of random, old stuff.

Each floor has 5 or 6 rooms that portray different themes.  For example, one room shows what your kitchen would have looked like if you grew up in a coal mining family in Helper in the 1930s.  It was nice because you could walk through the rooms to get a close up look at the items on display -- in this case, an old stove, ice box, dining furniture and different kitchen gadgets.

Other themes included post office, beauty parlor, doctor office, dentist office and an old school room.  Here, the kids are trying out old desks:

Lunchtime arrived while we were still in Helper, so we dined at Balance Rock Eatery.  They had yummy homemade food.  Brian got plate size whole wheat pancakes, and the kids got gigantic bacon cheeseburgers with homemade potato chips.  I had a veggie sandwich.  The portions were huge, the waitress was friendly, and we passed the time reading trivial pursuit cards that were in a holder on the table.  The next picture is taken outside an old, vacant building on Helper's once thriving Main Street.

Goodbye Helper.  Thank you for being a nice stop on our adventures in Carbon County.

Ten minutes down the road -- Hello Price.  This city is a bit larger and more populated than Helper.  Helper practically seemed like a ghost town with lots of vacant buildings.  Ian was a tiny bit disappointed in our trip because he was hoping we could visit ghost towns and coal mines.  The locals said most of the ghost towns have been leveled and we couldn't visit the mines for safety reasons.  About 40 of Carbon County's original 50 mines have been shut down as the mining industry has lessened. 

However, we visited the Prehistoric Museum and the kids loved it.  I wouldn't drive to Price just to go to this museum, because we have a dinosaur museum in Ogden and a great one at Thanksgiving Point too.  This one was small, but it was a nice addition to our tour de Carbon County.

Ian being eaten by a dinosaur.

Katie and Isaac being hunted by a bear.

The sign on the door said, "Come on in and enjoy our teepee."  So, we did.

The best part was that Ian was so stoked about getting to spend a day exploring his county for the upcoming county fair at school.  And, the other best part was a day spent together having fun as a family.

Magic Show

Last night we took the family to a magic show.  Ian's orthodontist (Dr. Pobanz) rented Peery's Egyptian Theater, hired the magician, and gave free tickets to all of his patients and their families.  I think we may really have the coolest orthodontist.  Ever.

His office is chock full of treats, prizes and electronic devices for the kids.  He is always doing some sort of giveaway.  And, twice a year he treats everyone to parties like the one last night. 

Oh, and I just found out that when the kids get their braces off, the whole staff dresses up in costumes and dances around the office.  I found this out when I saw a video of them dressed up like the Village People dancing to YMCA. 

Does your orthodontist have this much fun?

When we went in for our first consultation, I was a little put off, thinking that all the extra bells and whistles were somehow built into the price.  But, after getting a second opinion, I realized that orthodontia is pretty much the same price wherever you go.  And, Dr. Pobanz was actually cheaper after giving us some extra perks like sibling discounts, etc.

So . . . even though it is painful when your kids reach a certain age and you realize that somehow -- even though both you and your spouse, who each contributed to the DNA of your children, never had to have braces and yet have normal bites and relatively straight teeth -- somehow all four of your children are going to need serious orthodontia at $5K a pop.  Even though that is a painful realization, at least Dr. Pobanz makes the journey more fun.

The magic show was a hit with our kids and I always wonder -- how on earth do they do those tricks?  

Spring Is On Its Way

One positive thing that I have to say about missing a month of my life (post-surgery) is that it was the month of January.  If you ever need to miss a month of your life -- this is one I highly recommend.  And, since I have spent most of February easing back into normal activities, it has made the bleakest part of winter go rather fast.  And, now spring is just around the corner!

Although it doesn't look like it, since there has been a blizzard going on outside since I woke up this morning.

I do like snowstorms though.  They are magical and calming.  I'm not sure if huge icicles are a bad sign about your home's insulation, but either way, I love the charming, slender sticks of ice hanging from my roof, decorating the views from my picture windows.  I think that observing this beautiful winter from the warmth of my home has been fantastic and therapeutic.  And, I am not sad at all that I missed all those days in January when the high was (something like) nine degrees and the air quality was terrible.

I am so grateful and happy that I had this surgery and I know once all wounds are healed it will be a real blessing in my life.  I had a complication (seroma if you want to know) that caused me healing grief.  I think I could go to work as a nurse now that I have overcome the terror of repeatedly packing a deep, gaping wound that was the result of this complication.  Sorry.  Was that TMI?

The past two weeks have been a checklist of getting back to my normal routine.  I am pretty much there -- except for going to the gym.  On Thursday, I was told that adding weight bearing exercises back to my routine would be beneficial.  I was surprised because I am still feeling so much pain in the evenings that I haven't wanted to do anything other than what has to be done (sweeping the floor and lifting little kids in and out of carseats for example).  But, on Friday, as I was carrying a baby in my arms in the afternoon and bending over to pick things up while holding said baby (and, feeling every muscle in my sore abdomen as I did it), I was thinking that I have already added weight bearing exercises back into my life.

Right?

Next Saturday we are planning a trip to Carbon County for Ian's county report.  We welcome any suggestions anyone may have about fun things to do while we are there.  I bet there is more fun to be had in Carbon County than first meets the eye.  When we visited Millard County two years ago for Sophie's report, we made all kinds of memories digging for trilobites and learning about Fillmore being the state's first capitol.  Ian is excited to explore mines, 9-mile canyon and a dinosaur museum on our upcoming trip. 

Sophie turns 12 next week.  We went to the New Beginnings activity to welcome her into Young Women's last week and I was so impressed with the beautiful Laurels in our ward who got up to speak about the Young Women values.  I am happy that she has these wonderful role models in her life.  She is at Weber State with Brian today attending an Engineering conference.

Ian has braces.  He is suppose to get them off in July after a 10-month treatment that is meant to partially correct his overbite (until he can get the full braces and overbite correction in about 4 more years).  So far, he says he is still biting the roof of his mouth with his bottom teeth, so that's not good.  But the huge gap between his front teeth recently closed, so I have to believe we are making progress.

We got about 8-inches of snow by the time the storm moved out in the late afternoon.  Now it is night and everything is covered in a fresh blanket of white.

It's Not Date Night

In the beginning, I wanted to keep my surgery on the down low, so I didn't tell a lot of people.  I don't know how to explain the many reasons why.  I just didn't know what to expect and I didn't want a ton of attention drawn to me as I explored this new, uncharted territory.  Mostly, I just wanted to hurry and get it over with and finish healing before the Christmas/New Year's break was over and then get on with my life.

The Doctor said it would take 6-8 weeks to fully heal.  But, who has time like that on their hands?  He said I would be completely out of commission for at least two weeks.  But, secretly, in my mind, I knew I could get lots of work done on the computer and catch up on my "how to be a better parent" book reading during those two weeks in bed.  Ha!  What did he know?

Well, it turns out that you can't read books or write coherent articles for the newspaper when you are taking narcotics around the clock.  They are fun (the meds), but make the brain kind of fuzzy and hard to concentrate or string words together in understandable sentences.  It turns out the Doctor was right and I couldn't do pretty much anything (including showering or putting on clothes without assistance for the first 9 days - what the heck?).

Well, now that I am a little more than 2 weeks out from the surgery and still wearing my pajamas every day and walking like an old lady (no offense to old ladies - but my sympathies), my surgery that was suppose to come and go like a blip on the radar is becoming more and more common place knowledge.  Plus, I started blogging about it (not that many people read this blog, but still - I guess I don't really know who reads this blog?).

And, now I have one more little side note of a story (before getting to the point of this post) to tell you something amazing!

I like to make homemade hummus, and Brian loves to eat my homemade hummus.  It is really simple to make, but every time I make it, I pull out the recipe and double check, just to make sure I don't overlook any of the ingredients.

Well, on day 1 or day 2 of my surgery (it's all fuzzy to me now), Brian wanted to make some hummus and apparently I said all of the ingredients and directions to him (in the right order) from my bed.  And, the next day, I couldn't even remember doing it!  And, the hummus turned out great.  So, I guess now I know I do have that recipe memorized.  A-mazing.

I know this has taken awhile, but I am getting to the point of this post - it's a little piece of advice about surgery not being a vacation or even an excuse for a date night.

I had my surgery early on a Wedensday morning and on Friday afternoon, the Doctor wanted me to come in so he could have a look and see how I was doing (it was his first time meeting me that I was NOT smiling, not to mention not wearing make-up and my hair was a fuzzy mess since I couldn't stand up long enough to even blow dry it after my "assisted" shower and having Brian put my support hose on - we will be such cute old people together, now I know).  Anyways, I was not smiling or feeling good at all, but they said I seemed pretty much the way I should be for post-op day 2. 

Then, we left the Doctor's office and the narcotics that were affecting my brain dissolved all reason and made me think, "Hey, my mom has the kids for the night, this is kind of like a date.  Just me and my husband driving in a car on a Friday night."  And, again, I have almost no memory of this at all, but apparently I suggested that he call Cafe Rio and order two salads to go so that we could go home and have like a "stay in" date night.  I don't recall him running in to get the salads or anything, but I do remember sitting at the table at home eating this delicious salad and thinking what a great idea I had until I got halfway through and said, "I think I am going to throw up."  And, people - regrettably, that is what I did.  And, if crying is a bad idea when you've just had major abdominal surgery, throwing up is horrible.

And, the worst part was that I had just taken my pain meds less than 10 minutes before I threw up.  So, I didn't know if I should take more pain meds.  Because if I took double, that could be a dangerous overdose.  But, if I had none in my system that could also be a recipe for disaster.  So, I called the Doctor after hours and asked him what to do and he said, "Did you see the pills in the, well, you know . . ."  And, of course I had no idea and Brian had no idea because it was all so fuzzy and confusing.  Then, he said, "Well, try to gauge your pain level and if it feels like you are in more pain then take another pain pill."

Well, Doc, here is the thing, I just heaved my guts out a mere 48-hour after having my abdomen cut open and all of the muscles stitched tightly back together to close up a hernia, so my pain level is pretty high right now, but it's kind of hard to tell which is the cause - that or the fact that the pain pill came up, you know?

So, I gave up that conversation because it was not helpful.

Anyways, it was kind of an ugly scene and I am telling you this in case you ever have surgery and you have young kids at home and you so rarely get a night without them that you start thinking you are on a date night.  Well.  You're not.

And, this kind of reminds me of the time about nine years ago when I was feeling a little burned out taking care of my little 1 and 2.5 year old babies and I was scheduled to have oral surgery.  I was so in need of a break that I said in the back of my mind, "Hmmm, being sedated and lying in a chair for a few hours sounds quite like a vacation right now."  But, there were some complications (they were working on a front top tooth) and the next day I looked like I had been punched in the mouth - which made me feel self conscious like people might see me and think I had been in a fist fight with someone.  After it was all over, I said to myself, "That was NOT a vacation."

I guess I never learn.

My Knight on a White Horse

I usually can't really relate when I read statements by wives who say their husbands are their "Knights in Shining Armor."  I mean, really?  Are other peoples' lives like that?  Are they just being dramatic?  My life doesn't often feel like a fairy tale where we are riding off in the sunset.  It's a lot of hard work.  So, things like that don't really resonate with me. 

But, now I have my own story to share and it goes like this:

On the day after Christmas, I had surgery and Brian was in charge of taking care of me for the first few days.  I was a little nervous, because, if you know Brian, you know he is a fun-loving guy and I was a little afraid that he would be too busy making wise cracks to get all the notes straight when the nurse explained the medication schedule in which I had to be given a strong narcotic every three hours.  But, if they got mixed up and I took them in the wrong order, I could stop breathing.

He drove me home from the surgery, and I was in quite a painful state, all hunched over like a little old lady, wearing my support hose to stop blood clots or something.  All the time driving home and all the time walking up to the front door, all I could think about was getting into my nice cozy bed and getting back to my sideways, acid tripping, narcotic induced dreamland.

I couldn't lay flat.  I had to have my upper body at an incline and my legs propped up.  So, Brian went about arranging the pillows.  But, when I laid down that first time, I wasn't comfortable and I was in way too much pain to be adjusting the pillows and getting them just right.  Poor Brian felt helpless and didn't know what to do.  And, I didn't know what to tell him to do.  My brain was in no state to be reasonable so I started to cry, and let me tell you right now, that crying is not a good idea after major surgery so, foggy brain or no, I had to find a way to stop that in its tracks.

Finally, the pillows were acceptable and I drifted off to sleep.

For the next several days, here is what happened:

That crazy, funny husband of mine set alarms in his new iphone 5 (Christmas gift from yours truly) and he gave me every narcotic right on time never missing a beat.  He even woke up in the night to give me my meds and he kept me virtually pain free (and in a colorful dreamland).  And, the best part?  After the first pillow fiasco, he figured out the exact right way to arrange the pillows to make me more comfortable than I could have ever thought possible. 

Truly, I would get out of bed and then back in and try to arrange the pillows myself and I was just a mess.  Then, he would appear out of nowhere and magically make it all just right.  Then, he would tuck the covers up around my chin and I have never felt so like I was married to prince charming in all my life. 

Really.  I even get a little teary now when I try to tell him thank you for doing it.  And, I know that now I sound dramatic and silly like all the other ladies writing about their husbands being their "knights" or their "princes."

But, that is just the way it is.

Christmas Symphony With Ian

Some wonderful neighbors offered us two tickets to see the Utah Symphony the week before Christmas.  I was very excited since Brian and I love the symphony, but as luck would have it, Brian had a work assignment he could not get out of the night of the performance.  I got on the phone to call around and see if I could find someone else to go with me and my musical son Ian overheard and piped up saying that he would like to go.  Well, of course I was thrilled that my 10-year-old son was asking to come to the symphony with me so - it was a date.

The performance was so, so lovely.  There was a choir and two professional singers who just blew us to the backs of our seats with their voices.  The songs were all delightful, mostly a medley of favorite Christmas tunes.  When I glanced down at the program, I noticed that "O Holy Night" was near the end.  That is one of my all time favorite Christmas songs and here is a story of why:

In the fall of 1997, I got to attend a semester abroad at BYU Jerusalem.  It was one of the most blessed and wonder filled times in my life.  The Jerusalem center was like living in a palace.  I'm not just saying all of this in glossed over retrospect, I really felt that way even when I lived there.  It is a true architectural wonder.  I had a balcony and my own personal rose garden just off of my bedroom with a magnificent view of the city and the most amazing professors ever.  It was a magical time in my life.

Each Sunday, we attended sacrament meeting on the upper floor of the center which had stadium style seating facing a two-story solid glass window that overlooked the city from the Mount of Olives.  Can you imagine how blessed to get to attend sacrament meeting under such circumstances every Sunday?

Toward the end of our stay (we went back home just before Christmas) we had an evening talent show in the upper room and one of my roommates sang the song "O Holy Night."  To this day, I have to say, it was the most beautiful rendition I have ever heard.  I would hear her on the upper floor practicing for weeks before the performance and the workers would stop their duties and tell her she should travel the world as a performer, so beautiful was her voice.

After I came home from my time in Jerusalem, each Christmas when I would hear that song I would be instantly transported back to that beautiful room with the magnificent view and I would hear my roommate's unforgettable voice in my mind.  It often brought a tear to my eye thinking back to that very sacred time in my life.

As the years went on, I went through some rough patches in life, and one year at Christmas I heard the song and the tears came, but after awhile, I realized that they weren't happy tears of joyful memories, they were bitter tears because my life in that moment was so much the opposite of the blessed life I had experienced back in my castle in Jerusalem.  And the years went on like that.  Sometimes, the song took me back to a happy spot and other times the contrast was too great and a bit of sadness set in.

When I saw the song on the program, I wondered if it would transform me back in time the way it had so many times before.  But, when it came, something different happened.  Instead of seeing that wondrous, beautiful setting of old and instead of hearing the gorgeous voice in my head of my roommate, I felt a sudden clarity that we are sometimes blessed to feel in life.  A clarity of being completely present right there in that moment.  I felt so blessed to be sitting in those center row balcony seats enjoying such an inspiring performance.  I felt so grateful for the thoughtful neighbors who had given us this gift.  And, most of all, I felt like the luckiest person ever to be sitting next to the most awesome 10-year-old boy I have ever known and to get to be his mom.

I didn't need to be transported back to that blessed moment in my life because the moment I was in happened to be just perfect.