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.