Bear Lake '10

My kids are always looking forward to something. After Christmas they start talking about Easter. After Easter they start talking about Bear Lake. That's how much they love and look forward to the week we spend there every year.

It was a banner year for me: NO DIAPERS!!!

Among this year's highlights:

Kite flying

The annual tunnel to China



Over priced rock climbing



Homemade slime



Scooters!



Horsing around with cousins

(#2's 19 year old identical cousin is such a sweet pal to Buster)


An evening retreat to the cabin in Logan Canyon

Next up: Moving. The good, the bad and the ugly.

Summering in Utah

When Spouse and I moved to AZ eight years ago, we decided the only way I would survive the distance from our families and the infernal heat was to take an annual summer sabbatical to our families in Northern Utah. Some years the stay is a little longer and some years a little bit shorter, but typically we are gone for a month. A whole month packed with cousins and fun, green mountains and cold lakes, blue skies and cools night. It's something we look forward to all year. The one regret is that Spouse can only be there for about a week and has to miss all the memories we are making.

Maybe that is why I take so many pictures?

This year was a doozy. Over 500 photos.

And I've posted them all here on my blog.

Just kidding. I've selected a few below to give you a sampling of the first half of our stay with my family. All six of my siblings were able to make it to the reunion at my parent's house. That's right, seven (+spouses) adult children and 16 grandchildren under the same roof for a week. My mom planned activities and meals for each day and kept things moving at an easy going, but fun pace.

American West Historical Farm

#3 helping to sweep out the pioneer dugout. On the left my dad is showing #1 the old weaving loom.

#2 taking a crack at the hatchet throwing

Children's Tea Party. #1 is in the middle with the big Anne of Green Gables hat. The farm functions as it would have in the year 1910, so the ladies putting on the tea party talked to the kids about family life from that period before serving handmade cinnamon rolls hot from their antique wood burning oven.

Then the kids made fairies from silk flowers.

#1 with one of her sweet cousins riding the miniature train around the farm.

Boating at Hyrum Dam

All my kids successfully tubed behind the boat, some having more adventurous rides and than others. Thanks to Brother Brig for all his boating skills and for staying late in the day to let me waterskii in private.

I call this my Michelle Obama picture. *

Family Freedom Run

1.5 miles complete with custom racing bibs with each child's name, a finish line to break through and an after race celebration with donuts juice and trophies for each finisher.

Here is #1 with her cousins sprinting away from the starting line.

After a few attempts to quit, #2 eventually broke through the finishing tape

#1 is the first girl grandchild and has some awesome older cousins that are so sweet to her.

#3 and her trophy, with a little bit of doughnut on her face

Lemonade Stand

These cute girls sold lemonade and homemade star-shaped sugar cookies. They would wave and yell "Happy 4th of July" to the cars as they passed by.

So many kind people pulled over and often left big tips for the girls. When there was a lull in business, Nana or an uncle or aunt would miraculously appear to keep things rolling.

Blacksmith Fork Freedom Run 15K

Post 9.3 miles. From left to right, my little sister JA, moi, s-i-l and brother Miguel. Spectators included Spouse, #s 1, 2, and 3, and niece and a nephew.

Freedom Parade

What? Doesn't your family have it's own parade to celebrate Independence Day?
Here's what to do:
Decorate your bikes, scooters, 4-wheelers and motorcycles with festive stuff.
Everyone wear their best red, white and blue.
March/ride/scoot through your neighborhood carrying a big American flag and singing patriotic songs like, Grand Old Flag and God Bless America.
Wave and smile and wish you had brought candy to throw to the neighbors who are staring at you incredulously.

OK, you got me. I didn't have any red or blue and my white was dirty.

Next up: Bear Lake with In-Laws!



*I have tried and tried but for some reason I can't upload the Michelle Obama picture. If you must see it, just google "michelle obama state dinner dress" to see what all the fuss is about. Yikes!

Human Proportions

Hello, friends. Long time, no blog, eh?

We moved. Across town. More on that later. But first, three stories of human proportions.

I
While packing I unearthed a box of photos that never made it into photo albums or scrapbooks. Most were pictures taken around the time of my engagement and early marriage with Spouse. #1, looking over my shoulder, wondered aloud who the girl was. It was me, without wrinkles.

Then I came to a photo of me waterskiing at Flaming Gorge, in the Uinta Mountains in Utah. I had to do a double take to make sure it really was me, because the girl in the photo is laying it out, nearly horizontal on the glassy water with a watery plume of spray behind her. It's a good picture, taken at the peak of my water skiing days.

Typical, unsentimental me, I tossed the other photos but kept the waterskiing picture and posted it on the refrigerator, at eye level to remind me of my former self. Every time I see that photo I feel satisfied. Not because I used to be a good waterskiier. And not because I think that girl is still in me. I feel satisfied that I chose to give that up and not look back. At some point I decided I would stop defining myself as "the girl who used to ski well" and fully embrace my less glamorous, less thrilling life. I don't see myself as giving up, just facing reality and deciding to be happy with it.

II
My children scrambled out of the jeep and hurried across the pavement to the swimming pool entrance. A few paces behind I watched them inadvertently cut in front of a single man waiting in the line to pay. I apologized and offered to let him go in front of us, but he kindly declined. As we waited for a minute or two for our turn, my mommy-alert-radar went on automatic as I scanned the area for perverts, where the bathrooms were located, hiding places.... just so I could be on guard as I was alone with three kids at a public swimming pool. (I'm not crazy, right?) My suspicions landed on that single man waiting behind us in line.

What was he doing going to a swimming pool in the middle of the day in the middle of the week? Why isn't he at work? He doesn't even have kids with him? Ok, he doesn't look too creepy. He's probably only a little older than me. Hmmm, I'm going to keep my eye on him and if he gets weird we are outta here.

The pool was great; the water was cool and it wasn't crowded. It didn't take long for #2 to start begging to go off the diving board. So I took #3's hand and we walked with him down to "the deep end." I took a seat near the edge of the water to wait. That's when I noticed the single guy from the line. There he was dripping wet, waiting in line for the diving board, standing between children who were only as high as his waist. Suddenly he didn't look so creepy and I was curious. His turn came and I watched him deftly adjust the springs of the board with his feet, walk to the end of the plank, take a deep bounce and holy cow! Double flips high in the air, rotation and smooth straight entrance into the water!

At some point in his life, this now semi overweight, man in his mid 30's must have been some kind of diving superstar. We watched him do this over and over. He would do some kind of crazy dive, swim to the side then walk to the end of the diving line, along with all the belly-flopping, cannon-balling kids. When he finished diving he picked up his towel and left the pool. Probably went back to work.

I was impressed (and sad that I had judged him) that here was someone who had found a way to keep his talent alive. There were no spectators, except me and a bunch of kids; he wasn't going to win a medal or receive any recognition. Apparently he just loved to dive.

III
I picked the up phone yesterday, it was my brother Miguel. "JL? Guess, what? I ran 26 miles this morning!" My response, "You, freak. You are crazy." It was only two weeks ago that I had listened to a message from him, "Hey JL, call me back. I want to ask you some questions about long distance running." He had recently read a book about how human physiology is uniquely designed for distance running and how people can run a lot farther than they think they can. So he decided one day to see how far he could go. He ran 10 miles. That was two weeks ago.

Although in good health, Miguel is not an athlete. He plays basketball a couple times a week and probably does push ups in his bathroom in the morning.

So, last night after a healthy meal, Miguel decided he was going to see if he could run a marathon. So he woke up at 3 am, ran 26 miles (without gatorade, energy gels, an ipod or proper shoes) showered up and went to work.




What about you? As you mature, how do you balance your talents and interests with reality? What do you do to push yourself?

Onto Bigger Things

I've been putting off writing this post. Mostly because it's emotional for me and also because I'm afraid my words will fall short and seem trite.

{Deep breath}

Buster Boy, or better known in these parts as #2, just wrapped up his final year of preschool and will be heading to Kindergarten in a few short months. Natural sentimental feelings surround this event for me, but something deeper too. I feel relief, gratitude and pride. And I wouldn't be a mother if I didn't feel guilt.

When #2 turned two I knew in my gut that his lack of verbal communication was serious and that despite everyone's well intentioned advice, "Oh, boys just talk later," or "Give it time, some kids just take longer," I knew something needed to be done. When I consulted with my pediatrician, she went through his chart and began counting, one, two, three, nine, ten, twelve, thirteen.... ear infections. And those were just the ones we caught. Yes, #2 would be a prime suspect for speech delay.

Over the next year as I wrangled with Arizona Early Invention the difficulties with #2 were multiplying. He was getting bigger and stronger and increasingly more frustrated that he couldn't be understood. #2's lack of speech was effecting everything, mealtime, playtime, church time, travel time, the other children, my ability to leave him with babysitters. Although at his core he was affectionate and wanted to do right, his frustrations had turned him into an angry, defiant and often violent boy. Sometimes as I physically struggled with him my heart would be weeping for the innocent child inside.

We were blessed with a talented speech therapist who made significant progress with #2 in the 10 sessions we had with her before he turned three and was kicked out of the early intervention program. At his third birthday he could say, "I want..." "Can I try?" Just these little phrases brought much needed peace to our house.

The next step for #2 was to start special needs preschool three times a week where he would receive speech therapy. But this was not an easy step for me. #2 was not socially or emotionally prepared to spend that kind of time away from home. His behavior, although much improved, was still often volatile and I worried that his teacher would not have enough patience to deal with him lovingly. I also felt defensive and protective of my sweet boy. What if no one else could see the great potential in him? What if no one else could see past his angry exterior and into his soft soul?

Some of you long time readers may remember this post. Here is an excerpt of what I wrote on his first day of preschool:


"It was torturous to hear him crying as a I left him on the playground. He is so little! Ok, he's pretty huge, but he IS very young. I felt like I had just turned him over to the wolves. His teacher is not in fact a wolf, but a very compassionate woman. I hid in some bushes across from the play ground to watch him. Pretty soon he picked himself up from the sidewalk (where he was tantruming), got on a tricycle and started to ride around. I watched until they had gone inside the classroom and #2 seemed happy.

"Later when I picked him up, he wasn't so happy. He had had a terrible time. Uncooperative, crying; he had refused snack and recess. He ran to me and collapsed on my shoulder. Great! Now I really felt like I had made a mistake in sending him to preschool! However, I knew we had to give it another chance."


Preschool proved to be a great blessing. #2's teacher soon found his sweet nature buried beneath the defiance. She was firm but loving. She was positive and focused on #2's triumphs. The routines at school soon became routines at home and much of our daily struggles disappeared. #2's teacher and I began to compare notes about what worked at school and what worked at home so we could give him consistent expectations. It was working! #2 was happier! Our home was happier!

Over the next year #2 transformed into a polite, well mannered, happy and very social little boy. And it wasn't just me that noticed. Thank you, all you friends and family members, who took a moment to tell me that you noticed the changes in #2. It meant so much to me and gave me hope and confidence.

So last week wrapped up #2's two and a half year education at preschool. He left in a blaze of glory. Happy, attentive, social and ready for Kindergarten. I mentioned at the beginning that I feel guilt. I feel guilty that there was ever a part of me that doubted. A part of me that worried he wouldn't be ready. But far outshining my guilt, is my gratitude for a loving teacher, for the Lord's hand and for my precious #2.


Here are some pictures of his last day:

proudly displaying his hard-earned diploma

preschool buddies

snack time

Silly Sally, by Audrey Wood

#2 wrote this letter to his beloved teacher, "Thank you to be so lovely."

Number Three turns 3

For her birthday, #3 received a bubble machine. It is a parent's dream come true. You just fill it's little cavity with bubble solution, push a button and the magic happens. Hundreds of big, beautiful, bubbles blowing continuously without you exerting a single breath. Yesterday, while #1 and #2 were at school I was sitting at my computer paying bills and catching up on business. #3 was bored and begging for... I don't know what, I wasn't really listening. While I tried to focus on whatever I was doing I absently ignored her little voice, "Mommy, you wah wah wah wah ? Mommy, wah wah wah! Mommy, wah wah wah. Mommy! MA-ME!" I suddenly snapped out of my budget-fixing-induced-coma, huh? what? You want me to get your bubbles? Sure.

She took my hand and led me to the back door. We went outside and I dutifully filled her bubble machine, clicked the button and headed straight back for my computer where my excel sheet was awaiting me. Her sweet, lispy voice stopped me in my tracks, "Mommy, you want to share this with me?"

Of course I do. I want to share this moment of your childhood and watch you dance under the bubbles, smiling and laughing with joy only a three year old can feel. Bills can wait, but you, my dear, are changing faster than the earth is spinning and soon you won't be asking me to share in your small joys.

If #1 was sent to our family to give me confidence as a mother, then #2 was sent to challenge that confidence. And #3 was sent to slow me down and ask me to cherish my motherhood.






Here are some pictures of the little rat's birthday party:

Spouse creating the "under the sea" theme chalk mural on our back wall.

buckets of Goldfish for snacking

a sand pile full of treasures

urban artists

How Spouse Fared While I was in the U.T.

While I was gone for four days, Spouse was large and in charge. I left him a detailed schedule of who needed to be where and how to get there and what to eat and how to make it. It's not that I doubt his fathering abilities, it's just that the man is never home and doesn't know the day to day stuff.

So you can bet that I was surprised by our phone conversation Thursday night.

"Yeah, so I think I'm gonna go camping with Mike tomorrow night."

"What are you going to do with the kids?"

"Bring 'em."

The idea was so absurd I had to keep myself from laughing at his naivete. Taking three kids camping ALONE is not an easy task. Especially if you've never packed for or prepared for any family vacation, trip or outing. Or camping trip. But I wasn't about to burst his bubble. I figured once reality hit, he would come to his senses.

Friday afternoon I found I had missed 4 frantic calls and one text message from Spouse.

"Where is #1's swim suit? It is not in her drawer. It is not anywhere! Call me back quick!"

When I called him back it was too late, he was already on the road. He was really doing it. They were going camping.

Turns out Spouse is much more capable than I ever gave him credit for. Not only did he take the kids camping, but he cleaned up all traces of the camping trip. Laundry, done. Equipment, neatly stowed. In fact, I wouldn't believe it had actually happened if it weren't for this hard evidence: