NEVER LET GO...

A Holiday Tribute

2011-11-24T11:25:00.000-08:00

(Some dear friends are honoring Cami's memory this year by donating a beautifully decorated tree to the Festival of Trees. I wrote a tribute to Cami to accompany the tree and hopefully to give the many people that view it a small glimpse into the life of my remarkable sister.)

This year as we usher in the holiday season we do so with a little less joy, a little less yuletide cheer. Our minds careen the past five months, our hearts revisit the ache of losing a loved one so young, so suddenly. Our Christmas wish is for comfort, peace and faith that our sweet angel is watching over us, giving us strength and courage to live our lives without her…

Cami was born thirty-four years ago into a close-knit family that cherished her as an adorable blonde little girl, a charming, free-spirited teen and especially as a beautiful, loving adult. Cami married her best friend and high school sweetheart and together they were raising two perfectly wonderful young boys. Cami loved being a wife and mother and she exemplified those roles through pure and unconditional love. Her legacy will live on through “her boys.”

Cami was an incredible friend, fiercely loyal and concerned about all. She had a radiant smile that was sincere and filled with compassion and tenderness. She genuinely cared about others as evidenced by her kind words, her selfless actions. She was funny and loved to laugh. She listened more than she spoke. Cami was confident and witty. She loved to dance, sing karaoke and watch reality tv.
Cami lived her life appreciating the things that bring true joy. Her happiness revolved around her family—she valued her husband and children above all else. She adored her friends, her sisters, brother and parents. She cherished her testimony of the gospel, and her relationship with her Savior, Jesus Christ.

This holiday season our hope is to honor our angel, remember and appreciate our time with her and allow her example to shape our lives. As we move forward, continuing to grow and learn, we know she is with us, giving us the courage to find joy in life and happiness in those around us.

A younger, prettier version of me...

2011-07-07T06:40:00.000-07:00

In the wake of our tragic loss I wanted to re-visit a blog post I wrote about Cami three years ago. One blessing that has come to light for me personally since my sweet sister was lost just over a week ago is that I have no regrets about our relationship as sisters. Cami knew I loved her, admired her and respected her. I told her these things on a regular basis. I encourage all to love and appreciate their family members; sisters, brothers, parents, children...life is fragile and can change in an instant. I pray that Cami's light and legacy will forever shine and that her incredible example will live on to touch, teach and influence all who were blessed to know her. I love you, Cam.

People often say that my sister Cami and I have the same voice. We sound identical when we talk and especially when we laugh. I have noticed this phenomenon with other sisters, but it's hard to pick up on similarities when it involves yourself...

Four years ago Cami became a certified medical assistant. As a nurse myself I was thrilled to be joined in the health care field by my sister. She was interested in working in urgent care, so I inquired about a possible position for her with the company I work for. I spoke with the COO of our company about an employment opportunity, and his response was..."I would love to hire your sister--I welcome a younger, prettier version of you!" He had never even seen Cami...how did he know she was prettier than me?

I love working with Cami. She is smart, stable and responsible. She is my one and only source and sounding board for "office gossip." We have an unspoken rule of confidentiality and discuss everything from coworkers who have bizarre opinions and habits to doctors who wear scrub tops with their khakis. We adore (practically) every person we work with, but trust no one but each other...

Cami is the lone girl in her family as the proud mom of two cutie pie boys. Ashton, her oldest has been perfect since the day he was born. He is sweet and sensitive and absolutely charming. We thought Cam had met her match with her second son, Duston, but once he got through those tough toddler years he too seemed to show several obvious signs of perfection.
Cami is crazy in love with her husband who happens to be the strong, silent type. He is splendid at changing tires for his nutty sister in law, and is steadfast in his tolerance of wacky Bunnell sister antics.

Cam has had a few little trips and tumbles in her life, but all adversity that comes her way is confronted head on by her positive attitude and cheery smile... She laughs easily, though she can't scream worth a darn. Younger, prettier and much more AMAAAAAZING than I could ever hope to be...that's my sis!

Halloween, et al...and why I am not a scrapbooker

2011-01-17T23:35:00.000-08:00

What has happened to me that blog posts are now summaries of events occurring over not a few days, or even weeks, but months?

I am busy.

Everyone is busy.

I'm just afraid my blogging is going by way of my scrapbooking about a decade ago...except for the fact that I despised scrapbooking, hated patterned scissors and sticky letters and sayings like "my children are my greatest treasures" (in a lovely loopy font) seemingly tucked into a partially propped treasure box.

In contrast, I have truly enjoyed blogging. It is an outlet to express, and an opportunity to capture and record a timeless history of this lovely, unique phase of my life when my kids are no longer in arms or even under foot, but still close by...challenging and charming all at the same time. Blogging is nearly effortless--what with technology allowing the events of our lives, at least those captured in digital form, to be tossed from one form of "gigabyte" to another.

Yet, I have been neglectful, too busy (or lazy) (or...what?) to keep a proper journal, to chronicle holidays, and Haiti and such.

As I continue to reflect on the why? I will attempt a bit of a "catch up," and hope that I can find time...desire...focus...to resume some regularity, if only for the sake of maintaining the meaning of my blog title...(sigh...)

September, 2010...Alta High Homecoming. Lexi and Nate--I think they're adorable...

My third trip to Haiti (September 2010)...enlightening and inspiring...www.myaidforhaiti.com

Happy Halloween,2010 (are we really only to the end of October? This is gonna be one long post!)

Moab in November (2010)--lovely and adventurous!

Tae Kwon Do (November 2010)--Jaycee and Luke

Luke's baptism (December 1, 2010)...my sweet handsome boy is growing up! It was a beautiful day!

The most wonderful time of the year! Merry Christmas (2010)!

Though a bit of time to scribble a few notes (technically tap a few keys), locate a stash of pictures (miraculously filed in order on my desktop) the end result is so gratifying. Knowing that September through December 2010 is forever (I hope!) preserved (brief as it may be)...gives me satisfaction without weariness and hope without overwhelmation (overwhelmation=SCRAPBOOKING).

I may just do it again.

Next month.

Gotta pace myself...

Thanks...for the memories

2010-09-09T13:30:00.000-07:00

Can it really be that summer has been reduced to only a...memory? Not so distant, I realize, but still a mere recollection, a reflection of something past?

It seems it just began...early June...summertime at last...backpacks cleared of any and all lingering papers, notes and miscellaneous projects, hot pink shorts and striped t-shirts, tank tops and flip flops take place of tennis shoes, ankle socks and navy and white...white and navy...Friends from morning til dusk, bike rides, sweating brows, popsicles and pool days. Late nights, Lagoon, water parks and (my personal favorite) late, lazy, loafy summer mornings.

Now it's over.

School supplies are strewn across the dining room table, new shoes lie stacked by the front door. Anxious anticipation, homework, intermittent friends, cooler temperatures, early bedtime and (my personal least favorite) those monotonous, schedule-ridden early mornings.

Gratefully, ensconced between these two contrasting lifestyles, lies weeks of fantastic, fulfilling, adventurous fun that will remain rooted in our minds to be visited and reflected upon as truly one of the greatest Warner family summers of all time.

Swimming pool, sunshine and cousins...nothing beats St. George in the summer!

Tarzan at Tuacahn (FABULOUS!)

First time to Moab translated into favorite family trip of all time!

We spent one day on the river, another at Slick Rock in a Hummer!

What better way to bid farewell to summer 2010 than a labor day weekend at Scofield?

hanging in there

2010-08-23T10:36:00.000-07:00

Summer's been a bit crazy. I'm going to pull myself back up...take a deep breath...and accomplish lots and lots and lots...and lots of things.

...I can do it

...I hope

take time

2010-06-03T07:10:00.000-07:00

Yes, there is life beyond Haiti.

No, I have not forgotten about the four little darlings born to me. (and no, I have not contemplated trading them for others of the beautiful brown Haitian variety.)

Yes, I know I am behind on updates. WAY behind...I know.

No, I am not dedicating my blog to my relief work in Haiti (for that I have a website www.myaidforhaiti.com).

Yes, I recognize the significant moments I have yet to record for posterity sake.

Reasonable questions accompanied by simple, truthful (for the most part) answers tumble through my mind as I juggle my new endeavour with the many goings on in a household of six including a hard working, (basically brilliant) hubby, two vacillating (one mobile, both pretty) teenagers, one daughter with a heart of gold, but dabbling in pre-adolescent moods and attitude and a little boy who adds the exclamation point to our composition of family with funny antics and cute hair.

As the days of April/May rush by, touting hints of summer, but refusing to commit, I reflect on recent weeks of glamour, worry, recovery, story telling and celebration and contemplate the quickly passing days as we attempt to grasp this rapid time continuum and...enjoy ourselves a little!

Glamour...PROM

Lexi was stunning in sapphire. Her hair curled and cascading. First date. Cute boy. I cried. She has grown up so very fast. I love the young woman she has become. I actually like her better than the funny (sort of strange) little girl she came from...

Worry...DRIVING

Skilled and confident, but still inexperienced behind that wheel. I have never appreciated the sound of the garage door rising as much as I do now.

Recovery...ROO'S SURGERY

Kelsey's left ear has always had a mind of its own. Asymmetrical without any folds to tuck it into place against her head, it has added to her quirky uniqueness and has forever been an endearing trademark...(to me) but to her it has been a distraction, a difference, and in a world where perfection is thrust upon her from every angle, it was regarded, by her, as a shortcoming, a flaw--one that she'd like repaired.

So we had it done.

But...she had to go through this...

to look like this...

(lovely...but now she believes it!)

Story telling...Luke's moment

He marched up to the microphone to recite the tale that nabbed him a first place trophy. His story was titled "If I were a Leprechaun." I think he would be adorable as a tiny little green man...as long as he kept his toothless smile and irresistible shaggy hair.

(This year Luke has discovered the glorious wonder of books and the joyful release of writing. I couldn't be happier!)

Celebration...Jaycee's birthday

Jaycee is the most thoughtful person I know. (and I know a lot of people) This year for her birthday she decided to fore go a party with friends and instead spend an afternoon with me (her most favorite person) (it's true, ask her) getting manis and pedis, and shopping for fun, fresh, fabulous new linens for her bedroom. It was relaxing, silly and all around awesome.

Time is an interesting thing. It literally races by with a pace increasing each day, month and year and leaving little in it's impetuous quake but a more aged and hurried me.

No, I do not want time to stand still. I want my children to grow, progress, live, love and enjoy.

Yes, I want time to stand still. I want to cherish this time when all of them are at home, under my wing of influence and guidance but mature enough to explore, change and decide on their own.

There will often be questions.

Sometimes there will be answers.

Always there will be time to appreciate, laugh, love, live and enjoy.

If we take it.

Take time.

I think I've found my theme for summer...!

hait (part 4...the wrap up)

2010-03-25T15:15:00.000-07:00

Meet Wynchesla Jules...

Of all those I met in Haiti, Wynchesla was the one I tucked deepest into my heart.

It was day three, the clinic gates were closed and patients were slowing filtering out with splints cradling fractured wrists and radial bones. Bulky bandages covered wounds cleaned for the first time in days. Kim and I were just about to take a much needed seat on a stack of Pedialyte boxes when a young girl suddenly appeared in front of us.

"Do you know what I like?" she asked (in very impressive english).

(one of us) (in a slightly condescending voice) (we were TIRED) "No, what do you like?"

"I like milk ." She looked at us intently.

(one of us) (continuing the slightly patronizing tone) "I like milk too...it's yummy!"

"You got some milk in there?" She motioned with her head toward our supply tent.

(one of us) "You know what, you can have some water, I will get you some water, how does that sound?" (still a bit aloof but a little more cheery)
(got up, walked into the supply tent and grabbed three bottles of water)

"Thank you," the girl said as she kept us locked in her persistent gaze and showed no sign of moving on.

(one of us) (feeling a little uncomfortable) "Ok, here's the deal, we do have milk in there, but we can't give it to you because it's not ours to give." (unsure smiles)

(hands on hips, confident little smile...) "Oh, you can get me some milk..."

(both of us) "We'll be right back."

We emerged from the tent unseen, handed her two small black plastic bags each containing two boxes of milk, then swore her to absolute secrecy.

Miss Wynchesla Jules. Thirteen years old. Funny, smart, beautiful, sassy and talented (she knew every word to every one of Michael Jackson's songs!).

Wynchesla's father was killed in the earthquake, her home was "broken," and she, her mother and three younger siblings were living in the tent city across the street from the police station. Wynchesla entertained us with her unbelievable talent, charmed us with her intelligence and wit, and melted our hearts with her tenacity, strength and courage. She wants nothing more than to come to the United States to live and go to school. Kim has offered her home, her life and herself to this young girl full of potential and promise. Wynchesla calls Kim "momma" and will hopefully be here by summertime!

I believe Wynchesla embodies all I hold dear about the Haitian people. She represents the strength and perseverance of a remarkable group of human beings. Despite profoundly difficult circumstances, harrowing living conditions and tragic personal loss, Wynchesla maintains focus on the positive aspects of her life and she continues to work toward her hopes and dreams.

For six days in January I worked harder than I have ever worked before while living in conditions much more trying and arduous than any I have encountered in my life. I donated my time and my skills to strangers. I gave...I did. But...I gained so much more!

My life changed the day I woke up in Haiti. I became more grateful, less demanding, more optimistic, less disparaging. My friend Kim said it so well..."what will we ever complain about again?"

I have traveled to Haiti, I have given my heart to the people and in turn I carry a bit of their compelling experience and enduring spirit within me. I will be forever grateful that funny little girl crossed my path. I will never forget the great gifts of Haiti I have been so fortunate to receive.

haiti (part 3)

2010-02-28T15:59:00.000-08:00

In the words of JT, one of our most illustrious post-op patients who had the MOST DIFFICULT time coming out of anesthesia...

"I need someone...by my side!"

My time in Haiti was spent working side by side with gifted doctors, surgeons, nurses and paramedics. Talented in their fields, and remarkably compassionate and charitable in their personal lives, these people guided, supported and comforted me through the most formidable endeavour of my life. Their examples, shaped by their experiences on various and multiple service missions prior to the earthquake, inspired me to dedicate myself to humanitarian service in the future (hopefully with them!).

Dr. Vishy Broumand...outstanding surgeon from Florida...kept us on our toes with his wit and fabulous sense of humor!

Dr. Herold Duroseau is a pediatrician from Brooklyn. He is originally from Haiti and was able to communicate with our patients both in word and thought...he lost family members in the quake and his dedication and compassion touched all those he came in contact with.

Kimberley Williams, RN from LA...my girl, my sister! Friends for life we share a love and devotion for Haiti that will produce great things in the future! Kim was my inspiration, confidante and protector through our week long adventure.

Ome and Marie Winter (interview with CNN) Ome (pronounced oh-me ) is the director of Mission Rescate, a Christian based group from the Dominican Republic, responsible for providing medical care, food, supplies and medication for hundreds of homeless and injured Haitian people. Our clinic developed and ran under the cloak of this incredible woman's efforts. Faithful and devout, Ome's life literally revolves around providing aid to others. Never in my life have I met a more humble servant of God.

Marie is a fabulous, sassy nurse practitioner who gave me Xanax and loads of invaluable advice!

Dr. John Briggs is a family practice physician who currently lives in Togo, Africa as a Christian missionary. I would frequently hear him ask the locals "have you met Jesus?" John's experience made him a valuable asset to the clinic.
(plus, he was brilliant! learned the language in three days!)

Merari Rodriguez, a nurse from Florida, has already been back to Haiti for another week! Adorable but tough as nails...Merari is a friend for life!

Kim, Mary Oestreich, RN and me at the mountain home of a generous Haitian pastor.

(2 days of (wicked!) diarrhea + 5 days of insomnia = me looking like THIS!)

Jonathan Cotton, RN from Los Angeles...mature well beyond his twenty-five years, and gorgeous to boot! Jon took care of me when I was dehydrated, listened to my woes about having the runs...IN HAITI, and expertly gave me IV fluid to perk me up for another day in the clinic.

We took a little field trip to the beach on a Sunday afternoon, a group of us accompanied by ever-protective police officers. Exhausted after several days of grueling, emotional work, the get-a-way proved exactly what we needed to rest and recharge. Although the beach was not overly scenic, it offered a respite from the noise, smells and chaos of camp. My colleagues and I were able to sit and talk, learn about one another and share stories about our "regular lives." I will forever cherish that time and that much needed escape. It was yet another experience that bound us together not only as medical volunteers, but as friends, life long friends who would forever share the remembered sights, sorrows, joys and triumphs of a country broken but not destroyed.

I needed someone...by MY side...I am grateful for those who stood by me, taught me, and loved me despite my inexperience, insecurities, (illness!) and fears.

haiti (part 2)

2010-02-18T13:00:00.000-08:00

Saturday, January 23, 2010
(from my journal)

"Peds again today-Yay! I love these kids. I truly love them, and I tell them I love them, and I kiss them and hug them and kiss them some more. They are special little souls, these children of Haiti. So strong, so valiant."

Ninety-eight percent of the children that visited our clinic presented with complaints of vomiting, diarrhea, abdominal pain, fever and cough. Most were not actually sick; moms were seeking food, formula, pedialyte, and diapers. Those that had legitimate ailments were given medication, (antibiotics for ear/respiratory infections, tylenol and motrin for fever, decongestants for stuffy noses) sometimes breathing treatments if respirations were a struggle. All babies were given diapers, many were given formula and food. Ill or not, every child was dehydrated, and to all we gave Pedialyte (thank you Abbott Medical for the endless supply of lifesaving Pedialyte!).

Most of the children we saw in the clinic had concerned, loving parents caring for them, keeping them safe. Even with the devastation surrounding them, these babies and children were happy, content, and CLEAN...so very very CLEAN! These families live in tents, have no running water, and yet their clothes are spotless!

If a baby seemed quite sick, the doctor or nurse in triage would bring him back to us right away. Such was the case with a twenty day old, tiny little angel of a boy. He was brought in by a desperate father who explained the baby's mother had left two days earlier. Nobody knew where she had gone, or if she was coming back. The baby hadn't eaten since she left. "He won't stop crying," dad said, "I don't know what to do." The baby was starving.

We had no bottles, so I started feeding him formula with a syringe. He stopped crying once the sweet taste of Similac hit his tiny little mouth. He seemed content with the feeding until he decided he wanted to suck. He moved his head side to side rooting for a source of comfort to accompany the much needed nutrition. He started crying again, fighting the syringe, but grasping for it at the same time. My heart was pounding and I began to slip into that frustrated, breath snatching mode. My vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears and I watched this innocent little baby struggle in distress over my futile attempts to comfort him.

At that moment I realized...I was here in Haiti for a reason, a purpose. I was here to help these people in any way I possible could. If I gave in to frustration what would they do? I had more to offer this baby at this time than his homeless, forsaken and forlorn father.

With that I put on a latex glove. I held the baby in one arm and alternately gave him a bit of formula from the syringe, then put a gloved finger in his mouth to suck. Back and forth, for about an hour. I was able to fill his little tummy and rest him in sweet snoring slumber on my shoulder.

When I finally handed the baby back to his father along with more formula than we were technically supposed to give one person, I looked him in the eyes and pleaded "please find his mother." The formula we provided will run out...he needs his mom, he needs her milk.

I pray for this little baby and so many others...my babies, my Haitian babies, every single day.

I did have a favorite.

A baby that seized my heart from the moment I gazed into his beautiful brown, endlessly-lashed eyes.

His name was Stanley and he was just over eighteen months old. Dressed in dapper (spotlessly clean!) overalls and a smart, striped t-shirt, he looked at me with a puzzled expression as I drifted in his direction entranced by his adorableness. I looked at him and started my usual oohing and awwing that I could not hold back while in the presence of these incredible children. Though none of these little ones could understand my language, they understood my tone and recognized my smile. They would smile in turn, and shyly duck into mom's arms grinning coyly, flirting and peeking to make sure I didn't slip away.

Stanley was different. When I spoke to him in my sing song voice he looked me right in the eye, and without any expression at all responded..."huh?"

Stanley's mother allowed me to take him for a walk around the clinic and camp. I showed off my new friend to everyone around.

"Talk to him," I'd say.

"Hi Stanley!"

"Huh?"

Every single time. He never cracked a smile. It was priceless.

I was in love...

His mother sensed I had fallen for him and before she left the clinic whispered a request that brought tears to my eyes. "You will take him? To the America?"

Oh how I wish I could.
(What a good mama--she wanted the very best for her sweet baby.)

(from my journal)

"...I love Stanley, I love all my Haitian babies. I love Haiti. I love the people I am working with and those we are serving. How did I get so lucky to have this opportunity so unexpectedly come my way? I will be forever grateful that it did."

haiti (part 1)

2010-02-10T06:30:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, January 12, 2010 at 5:25pm an earthquake, 7.0 magnitude, shook the country of Haiti to it's core. It collapsed homes and buildings, killing hundreds of thousands, injuring even more. It left millions of people homeless, jobless, injured, without electricity, running water or the means to obtain food, medication or living supplies.

I watched the horror unfold through CNN, NBC and other news sources, hearing stories of despair and tragic, unnecessary death due to lack of medical help, supplies and medication.

"I need to go there" I told Scott.

I felt a pull--deep within my soul. A want, a need...to help. I didn't quite understand it until I received a phone call two days later, exactly a week after the earthquake, it was my sister, Chris..."do you want to go to Haiti?"

"yes, yes I do..."

Less than forty-eight hours after Chris's call I was sitting on an airplane heading to LA to meet up with a group from the Church of Scientology. They had a chartered plane set to take us to Miami, then on to Haiti.

I began this journey all alone. The opportunity came my way (as an answer to prayer)and through my sister, Chris, whose friend Stephanie works for a local travel agency owned by a member of the Church of Scientology. As mentioned earlier, the church had chartered a plane to Haiti to transport a group of their "volunteer ministers" (young adults specifically trained in disaster search and rescue). They were looking for medical professionals to accompany them, and I was anxious and ready to go. With the unwavering support of my sweet husband and kids, parents, sisters/brother and friends, I was somehow able to arrange my busy life to fit into Scott's very busy schedule and answer this call to serve in the country of Haiti.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

I remained alone for most of the day. Although touched and impressed by the acceptance of my traveling companions, I couldn't help but feel I had embarked on this (humbling, life-changing but dangerous) trek a solitary individual, isolated by both my professional practice and personal beliefs.

Then I met Kim.

I just happened upon a group of three, mid-conversation, while wandering the airplane aisle en route to Miami. One person was motioning toward a woman seated just two rows ahead of me "...you are permitted to give out medication because you are a nurse..." That was all I needed to hear...I made my way to the seat in front of the woman, leaned over and got her attention. "I'm a nurse too!" (I couldn't help but blurt) Unsure of how she would react to my bold attentions, I pulled back a bit to allow her to respond. To my relief and sincere joy I saw reflected in her face the exact feelings that had been troubling me since morning. Her radiant smile embraced me, and I knew, from that moment on, I would no longer be alone.

At 1:00 am we began our descent into a pitch black city, one devoid of electricity or even much structure. Once on the ground Kim and I walked arm in arm off the plane and onto the tarmac. After retrieving our belongings we piled into a truck along with a group of doctors and other nurses we had met in Miami. We were silent as we drove through still, narrow streets toward a camp set up within the confines of the police department in Port Au Prince. Upon arrival we were directed to a stack of patio chairs, told to find an open spot and get some sleep before morning.

Friday, January 22, 2010
(from my journal)

"My first night in Haiti...Lying there in 95 degree temperature, bugs flying around my head, sounds of the tent city across the street and police officer banter making it impossible to sleep at all! My heart was pounding as I tried to relax and calm myself with deep breathing and prayer. What in the world have I gotten myself into? I should have just said NO! It was such short notice. I'd love to go another time, that's what I should have said. But, I didn't say no, I said yes, and I'm probably going to die in another earthquake or by some act of violence, or I'll catch some horrific disease and suffer for a few months...then die. Well, nothing I can do about it now. Make the best of it and hope the week goes by quickly!

Our camp and makeshift clinic in Port Au Prince...we were surrounded at all times by armed police officers and soldiers...

The "original crew." Talented, compassionate, extraordinary group of doctors and nurses I worked with my first two days in Haiti.

Our clinic was set within concrete rooms of the former police station. We tried to keep things as clean as possible, but were challenged by bugs, heat, humidity, and dust.

Patients (up to five hundred a day) were treated in a triage tent in front of the compound. Adults who needed additional care (wound debridment, dressing changes, IV fluids, surgical attention, OB concerns, etc.) were taken to the eight bed ER (surgeries were done under local anesthesia and sedation). All babies and children were sent directly to the peds room (to me!) (and some of the most incredible pediatricians I have ever had the privelege of working with!)

A day ladened with sadness and overwhelming need at some point transitioned into moments of inspiration, touching gratitude and gladness.

As the sun set on my first full day in Haiti I gave in to utter exhaustion and slumped onto my patio chair/mattress berth and drifted into a calm sleep. Shouts and laughter woke me as camp life grabbed its second wind and tales of the day, proper introductions, and requests for dinner successfully diffused the stress and emotions of the difficult day.

I am so happy to be here. What a difference a remarkable day makes...

coming up...my babies, the people, the beach and Wynchesla...

Christmas Eve, Christmas Morn, the day after Christmas, New Year's Eve day, the day after New Years...

2010-01-03T20:08:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve, in my opinion is even more magical than the big day itself. This year our yuletide celebration was ushered in by the likes of two teenagers portraying a surprisingly earnest Mary and a steady, solemn Joseph. Shepherds and angels sang Silent Night and posed patiently for timeless photos to hold forever Christmas 2009 in our hearts, if not in our minds.

Christmas morning had the crew up at 7 am sharp. Dad ventured downstairs to survey the plethora of treasures everyone was hoping to find. We all took to the stairs, turned round the corner and squealed in delight. Snuggies and makeup, Wii games, cute clothes!

(Even a surprise gift for me...a KINDLE...Yay!)

The day after Christmas we bundled up, grabbed sleds and toboggans and trespassed our way to a great hill for sledding!

New Year's Eve day was "GIRLS DAY OUT" as Lexi, Kelsey, Jaycee and I headed to my favorite salon for holiday PEDICURES! Relaxed and refreshed, we skipped out into icy temps in our flip flops, sporting the cutest dang toes around!

The day after New Years inagurated a new holiday family tradition...dinner downtown and a JAZZ GAME! We met Thurl Bailey on the way in, and cheered and chanted our home bball team through an unfortunate loss to the Denver Nuggets. Entertained and amused by all the goings-on a Jazz game offers, our kids have requested a return next year...hence a new tradition!

So here I sit...the holidays behind me, a new year ahead. 2009...though it ended well...was a year I am happy to leave behind.

I ponder. I sigh. I smile. It can only get better from here!

Happy New Year to all! May happiness, peace and simple joy be yours!

Next year

2009-12-21T19:46:00.000-08:00

Just a few days ago I was stringing garland and white lights across my mantle and hanging gold jewel-adorned ornaments on my tree. I blinked and suddenly found myself at the mall, a mere seven days before Christmas, being herded through stores and down aisles, waiting in lines so long I made friends with the people around me. The most wonderful time of the year zips by in a flash, and at every holiday conclusion I vow to be more prepared, more organized and more frugal next year.

Well, it's "last year's next year" and here I am immersed in that rushed hustle and bustle...keeping track of all things purchased, attempting to please all but spoil none. Grab good deals, spend as little as possible without neglecting a friend, teacher or another appreciated soul who deserves a Christmas surprise. Cards and goodies, parties and Santa. Advent calenders (I have four this year--and yet, we have already hit the 24th on two--my kids have issues with patience...), outside lights with disconnected strands which are unable to coordinate and shine at once. Decadent chocolates and rich gooey desserts that tempt and tease during a month where "sensible eating" is a phrase uttered only in jest.

This is Christmas. It is a time for nonsensical, sleep-deprived, sugar loaded over extension! But tucked within the marathon shopping expeditions, endless child wish lists, counting dollars, balancing the loot, planning parties, and stress headaches, are those little twinges of "good cheer" that only the merriest of holidays can offer.

"She is going to LOVE this!"

"He is going to be SO surprised!"

Christmas carols, smells of cinnamon, anxious anticipation and unparalleled excitement from child, teen and adult alike. Kaleidoscopes of light, a tree I am IN LOVE with, Christmas cards boasting beautiful smiles of long time friends and beloved relatives. Wide eyes questioning each newly wrapped gift that finds its way under the tree, time with loved ones, dressy parties and Christmas stories. Gifts of service, my kindness tree, and of course, countless reminders of the Savior and a celebration of His birth, His life, and His ultimate sacrifice for us.

Christmas is all of this. The crazy and the sublime mixed together in a holiday hodge podge that never changes. As much as I'd like to think next year will be different, it won't. And that's ok, because I'll love it all the same!

home and food and clothing

2009-11-25T18:53:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl and would kneel down at night to say my prayers I would repeat an array of familiar phrases that summed up in my young mind the things I was happy to have. One of these expressions of thankfulness went like this:

"I am thankful for home and food and clothing."

I'm not sure how I came up with this, but I thought it sounded nice so I restated it each and every night.

Those childhood words came to my mind recently as I was taking advantage of this bounteous time of year to remember and reflect on the many blessings I enjoy.

I am still thankful for home but on a much different level. I have a dear friend who is fighting valiantly through the difficult reality of losing the home she and her family have lived in for many years. A faltering economy and unstable real estate market put so many in jeopardy these days. I am thankful for the comfort of home.

I am thankful for food and try not to take it for granted, but find myself making my way through Costco each week purchasing un-necessities like pirate's booty and chocolate covered pomegranate seeds...without a second thought... while I hear tales of people I know relying solely on food storage for nourishment as week after week passes with little to no income.

And I give thanks for clothing, especially warm coats, scarves and mittens, all missing on a little boy I spotted walking to school recently on a morning threatening snow and boasting temperatures below thirty.

I am thankful, truly, sincerely, for all that I have. Not only home...and food...and clothing...but for those who share these marvelous blessings with me.

These guys. They drive me crazy, and make me yell. They bring me to tears then keep me laughing for days. They are mine and I love them dearly.

This guy. He works his (cute) booty off to provide the comforts we enjoy on a daily basis. He is helpful and humble, sweet and understanding. He is my man and I adore him.

Waxing nostalgic, I have to mention a few others...

Happy Thanksgiving...May our homes be blessed, our food be plentiful and our clothing bring warmth and comfort!

"I'll trade you a Starburst for a Twix..."

2009-11-02T17:10:00.000-08:00

"no way!"

"I'll throw in Milk Duds and some Skittles."

"DEAL!"

...and thus a round of well-contemplated swapping ended a week of frightfully fun (Halloween) festivities!

We savored spooktacular sights at our family party where freckled babies and dead golfers mingled with football players, rock stars...

bananas and...oompa loompas?

The karate kid and a hip hop skeleton showed up with a bit of riff raff this year...

Grandpa and Grandma oozed terror as an...um...pretty...ugly woman, and a rather possessed looking baby?

We feasted on our traditional homemade chili, dunked Fazoli's breadsticks and gobbled glazed doughnuts for dessert. We played games devised by Chris to entice teenagers and toddlers alike (how does she do that every year?) and tried our very best to carry on conversations with Cami while somewhat distracted by her bright orange face and grassy green hair.

Even Danny participated as a perfectly prim, posed little pumpkin!
(costume courtesy of Kelsey...made from scratch, actually scraps, of material she had lying around. Impressive, huh?)

Ward party, friend parties, school parties...at last the big day arrived.

Dinner before candy...but, dinner was a bit unconventional this year...

Intestines topped with bloody eyeballs, a bowlful of brains and witch fingers on the side. All washed down with a glass of ice cold blood and the trick-or-treaters were (just a tiny bit horrified) and set to go.

Candy bars arranged by brand and separated from tootsie rolls and blow pops. Glow sticks and rubber snakes (hands down favorite of all the loot) sat alone as the only items meant to last for more than a week. The bartering slowly hastens, half-eaten fruit snacks and snickers tossed aside. Stomachs began to churn. Suddenly sugar-coated treasures beg to be hidden.

That's my cue. Kids to bed. Bags to raid. Reese's and Hershey bars are mine, all mine...booohahahahahaha!!!

Falling

2009-10-17T09:03:00.000-07:00

...leaves infused with crimson and copper; blanket the frosty ground with breathtaking hues of autumn.

...temperatures as crisp sunny days fold into cozy, blanket wrapping nights.

...in love with my husband over and over again watching him work so diligently to provide for our family and support our kids all while effortlessly transitioning his wardrobe from cargo shorts and tight muscle hugging t-shirts to 501s and snuggly sweatshirts.

...asleep well after midnight every night as I take in every fabulous minute of all my shows which are still rocking new episodes. (how did we survive without DVRs?)

...bank account balance due to rad new styles for fall this year...FLAT BOOTS and LONG BELTED SHIRTS. (kinda reminds me of styles from an iconic decade about twenty some odd years ago...)

...grades. That would be Lexi as she has decided that these crucial high school years will best be spent focusing on her social accomplishments rather than her academic ones.

...expectations that Luke will ever sleep all night in his own room. I have given up on that ridiculous notion as I prepare a berth of thick patterned blankets right next to my bed every night.

...numbers on the scales each morning as I continue to drop weight despite my compulsion to down sugar cookies without even a smidgen of restraint.

...okay, that last one was a complete fabrication (the weight loss, not the sugar cookies) but if I say it enough who knows...

Gazing through my windows each morning I am perplexed at mother nature's unique ability to watercolor her mountains into a scene of unparallelled beauty and wonder.

Underneath the vibrant colors lies the cold beginnings of winter, but those are masked by the majestic miracle of fall.

I think I have a tiny bit of that same ability. Although I have days where I feel my life is falling apart at the seams as I strive to keep up with kids, housework, relationships, church callings, work, and all of the emotions, complications and complexities that accompany a mom's endeavors, I am able to color my world beautiful, focus on the many vivid blessings that make me who I am and add purpose and value to my life.

Just imagine the value if I really were able to lose weight...cookies in tow. Oh well, Christmas is quickly approaching maybe things will go my way then...

War and Peace (ful days)

2009-09-04T21:33:00.000-07:00

I feel as though I entered a combat zone last week.

I am just now feeling safe enough to emerge from my (symbolic) camouflaged place of hiding where I kept both home phone and/or cell phone within finger length distance, and one eye constantly on the clock counting down each hour that passed without a pleading call.

Mornings remain difficult as shots continue to fire in the form of "Can't I stay home, just this once?" Or the ever deadly "I have NO IDEA what to wear," usually accompanied by "these shoes DO NOT fit!"

They say once you've seen war nothing will ever look the same to you again...

I say once you've sent your youngest (extremely anxious) child off to school for a full day, your second youngest (not quite as anxious, but very self conscious and unsure)child to a new school for fifth grade, and your oldest (extremely anxious, self conscious and unsure) child to high school...you had better be grateful you are not looking at life through the tiny, barred window of a psychiatric hospital...

The COMBATANTS...

Luke. Don't let the adorable grin and dapper duds fool you. Tears the size of gumdrops have managed to rip my heart into a million pieces each and every morning since the beginning of last week. After school has been a different story, however, as tales of new friends and a super nice teacher have begun to heal some of the battle wounds (aka stress, anxiety, tummy aches, etc.) --for us both!

Jaycee. Looking lovely as ever in a uniform that has lessened the differences in size and allowed new friends to focus on her ever engaging personality, not to mention her killer earrings and shoes by Fergie!

Roo. She's a teenager. Need I say more? Hair must be perfect , clothes stylish yet original...otherwise...I become target practice for looks that could seriously kill!

Lexi. Oh my. As a Sophomore she has joined me in battle as well as turned on me without any warning at all. Emotions and fears have marked the beginning of a whole new chapter in her life...and mine. Will she make friends...? "I don't know anybody, and nobody knows me!" Will she get involved...? "No way am I running for office/joining a club/introducing myself to people I don't know!" Will I ever see her...? "Tennis practice, football game, party at Emily's, sleepover at Whitney's!" The pressures have been relentless, but we are gaining strength and...actually...having fun!

As for me, I have resolved to lick my wounds by way of spontaneous pedicures and lunches with friends and enjoy the peace born of battles that delivered me to this phase of life wherein freedom and time to myself are welcomed, and well deserved...if I do say so myself!

Idolness equals happiness

2009-08-05T17:05:00.000-07:00

Every year there is one day. One glorious, happy day in which my obsession and love for the phenomenon that is American Idol is accepted, celebrated, matched and even dwarfed by the mania of others.

American Idol Live Tour.

This year it fell on a beautiful, balmy Tuesday. I packed a cooler full of drinks and bags with snacks and my girls and I set off for the E-Center to wait for the arrival of the idols. After about two hours they drove in on buses. We could see them through tiny windows waving at the fifty or so women and children gathered and screaming their names. Any sign of Adam? Not yet, but I am hoping and praying for a glimpse of my gothic glam rock icon.

Waiting so patiently for someone, anyone to emerge...

Finally, after another hour or so of killing time and making friends with the ladies beside us adorning Adam inspired t-shirts and blue streaks in their hair (seriously, there are many who are FAR more fanatical than I), out strolled Michael Sarver and Matt Giraud!

Both were extemely gracious, charming and cute, cute, cute! They posed for numerous photos, even threw in some hugs and high fives.

Danny Gokey was next and his sighting was signaled by ear piercing shieks and declarations of love and affection.

He is one hot preacher man in person! Super kind, very genuine as well.

The crowd was treated to one more pre-show idol...Scott Macintyre who was every bit as sweet and witty as he was on the idol stage!

Alas, no Adam. I'll just have to wait til tonight...

...and what a night it was!!!

I reminded over and over and over again why I love American Idol more than anything else on the planet!

The talent, the stage presence, the music, the variety, the energy...

and Adam... beautiful, fantastically creative, mesmerizing Adam!

He rocked the stage, stole the show and killed every song, from Led Zeplin to David Bowie.

Dressed head to toe in black leather, silver chains dangling from his neck, hair spiked in a perfectly rockesque fashion he danced and screamed, as we danced and screamed even louder. He was sexy and raw, uninhibited and captivating!

Yes. I know he's gay.

I'm married.

So what.

I'd still take him home.

Who wouldn't?

After the un-be-liev-able show we hastily made our way to the back of the venue and scooted and shoved our way to the front of the crowd (one must not be courteous in any way when it comes to getting up close and personal with the idols...).

The entire group made an appearance one by one, signing autographs, and posing for pictures. Adam was surrounded by security, so I was not able to grab a hold of him like I had planned...but I will forever cherish the memory of our short, but touching conversation...

me: (shrill, shrieking, crazed, manic sounding) "I LOVE YOU ADAM!!!"

Adam: (subdued, soft response with just the tiniest hint of a lysp) "thanks, I love you too..." (accompanied by a sweet little multi-fingered wave).

Truly...the happiest place on earth, and the most wonderful day of the year!

Oh summertime, I am lovin' you...

2009-07-13T17:44:00.000-07:00

...and your long, lazy days filled with a whole lot of nothin' 'cept foolin' and playin' and loungin'...

At Scofield just sittin' round the fire, cookin' smores and sharin' tales.

Lightin' fireworks to celebrate the independence of our great nation.

Paradin' as the Bunnell Beach Bums, snaggin' best family entry.

Swimmin', golfin', and goofin' for a week in (sweltering) St. George.

Culturin' with live theater at Tuacahn. Foot tappin' to Footloose!

(that is Thayne from so you think you can dance...last season...LOVE HIM!)

Oh summertime, I am lovin' you and your days filled with grillin' and
messin' with family, playin' with friends, cartin' sunglasses and sunscreen, sleepin' outside and campin' in the family room.

Let's just keep on goin'...neverendin' summer...sounds just about perfect to me...

Then, now

2009-07-01T15:32:00.000-07:00

THEN

July, 1990. Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Newlyweds, madly in love. Juggling school, work...that's about it. Forking out a whopping $210 per month rent for our quaint, spotlessly clean, two-bedroom townhouse. Perched on the cusp of adulthood, ready to jump in and conquer an enticing world of career, parenthood and responsibility...

(all while sporting a lovely triangular hairdo and rocking a pale denim, pegged-pant and coordinating jacket ensemble with double shoulder pads. My handsome groom smashing a pair of (kinda high-waisted) Girbaud jeans...and...hair!)

NOW

June, 2009. Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Wed for nearly nineteen years, madly in love. Juggling work, kids, carpools, activities, kids, finances, home projects, and kids...that's about it. Forking out a whopping $210 times, um, a lot, for our (not so spotless due to four kids and a burned out mom) home, in addition to lots of funds doled out to keep to keep the little ones clothed, entertained and "well-rounded." Perched on the cusp of insanity due to that little plunge we took a couple of decades ago...

If we could, would we revisit those carefree, simple days?

Visit perhaps, but not stay. (did I mention double shoulder pads?)

Though our lives are no longer just our own, but shared (and not always evenly) with those whom we have bred, and demands for time, attention and money are enough to send us into a mind numbing craze from time to time...

We will stay put. Learn from our mistakes (including unflattering hairstyles) and celebrate our successes (mostly happy, semi-normal kids) (oh, and mid to low rise jeans).

My boy...

2009-06-10T13:44:00.000-07:00

my one and only boy, loves legos, baseball, motorcycles, animals, showing his muscles, and shocking his sisters with a variety of colorful potty words.

Kindergarten is all wrapped up complete with teacher attachment (me, even more than him), darling new friends, out-grown uniforms, and above grade level success in practically every subject. As we reach this milestone, this culmination and completion of those precious "younger years," I reflect on my boy, and his strengths and struggles, his abilities and insecurities, as well as on me, and my strengths and struggles, my abilities and insecurities when it comes to this little man that I love so very much.

I wonder...how do I cope with the idea of putting him in the care of another person in just a few short months, one that neither of us knows, for almost seven hours each day? I know I relinquished my girls to the same fate, and they, as well as I survived without much impairment at all.

But this is my boy. My one and only boy...

My boy is a smarty-pants as well as kind, sensitive, and funny.

(My boy has such anxiety he panics when he doesn't know exactly where I am (even within the house).)

My boy terrorizes his sisters until they scream and threaten to kill him. His response? Turn up the heat and laugh hysterically while running at full speed as far away from them as possible.

(My boy has such anxiety he calls me every fifteen minutes when I'm out on a quick dinner date with his daddy.)

My boy loves to buy new toys. Money will literally burn a hole in his pocket if not spent on something that can accompany sound effects made by puffing out his cheeks and making a "blowing up" (as in dynamite as opposed to a balloon) sound as soon as said money is acquired.

(My boy has such anxiety he begins anticipating the dreaded nighttime ritual by noon, at least. ("why do we have to have night?"))

My boy worships his dad and tries to imitate and emulate his mannerisms, hobbies and looks. (he's growing out his hair to make up for a future of baldness!)

(My boy has such anxiety he often refuses to play at a friend's house for fear that I may leave and not be at home if and when he returns.)

My boy is a gentleman. He will open the door for me, watch out for me, comfort me when I am sad, hug me at exactly the right times, and stick up for me when his sisters' are getting feisty.

My boy is wonderful but fearful, sweet but concerned.

How do I pave a way for him to grow and mature into a confident and hopeful young man while protecting him from the things that frighten and trouble him every day?

My boy..my one and only boy loves superheroes and star wars, his momma, spongebob and american idol (he is my son after all). He is afraid of the dark, spiders, bees, and being left alone.

I love his long locks, the amber freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks, his laughing eyes, outrageous vocabulary, and propensity for winning at most games we play. I am afraid that he will be afraid while he's away from me.

But I can't hold onto him forever.

(Dang!)

My boy is growing up. He will be ok...won't he?

Remember those perms?

2009-05-20T07:00:00.001-07:00

It's me...circa 1987...

It's all about the hair (the bigger the better).

Just kidding.

Today is crazy hair day.

Crazy thing is, I don't see anything crazy about Jaycee's hair.

I just see fabulous style that never should have gone OUT of style!

I have never been so proud...

Sure, it's only May, but my summertime is just around the corner

2009-05-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wore shorts, t-shirt and flip flops. Sure, I was a little chilly strolling the aisles of Smiths, but I projected the appearance of a hot, summery day.

The thermostat barely cleared seventy, but my whole demeanor screamed eighty-five!!!

Two weeks ago we spent a Saturday at Lagoon. Sure, jackets were necessary, and Flying Aces induced chills, but other than the temperature... it felt like summer. The sights and smells, the butterflies that tickle our tummies while anticipating Wicked's launch straight up into the sky were there...as if...it were July.

Monday we went to Chris's pool. Heated to a balmy 92 degrees, the kids remained submerged in the clear blue water unwilling to step out into less than scorching temperatures, and I remained firmly planted on my lounge chair, soaking in rays of sunshine and holding onto each moment that the air stood still and the warmth of the overhead sun offered a mini moment where I could imagine that relaxed, lazy feeling only summer can truly offer. Sure, I had goosebumps covering every inch of sunscreen lathered skin, but I also have a very discernible tan line to show for my efforts.

Every day this week I have kept my windows open to air out the mustiness that lurked and settled during the long winter months. Sure, the cool air wafting through my screens is just frigid enough to kick on the furnace, but I can hear the birds singing, smell the newborn blooms from my neighbor's immaculate yard, and feel the breeze as it kicks up dust and fills my home with scents of a sunny season.

Late nights have replaced sensible bedtimes as my kids run from house to house beckoning neighbors and friends to join them in celebrating the long hours of daylight. Riding bikes, jumping on tramps, or just sitting outside on the (finally green) lawn they long for the same freedom that I do. Sure, they are exhausted when I drag them out of bed for school each morning, but we are all so bored and tired of the restrictions and restraints placed by strict and arduous school month schedules.

We yearn for non-structure, days spent at the pool, suntans, bare feet, boating, sleepovers, campouts, slushies, and sweltering heat. Sure, summer will be here in all its glory before we know it, but I'd just as soon welcome it with open arms...tomorrow!

2009-04-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

...and every splendid element that accompanies this fabulous city!

Just shy of a year ago, after coming to terms with the sad truth I would not be able to accompany my high school friends on a girls' trip to the Mexican Riviera as a celebration of our fortieth year, I resolved to plan an alternative means of commemorating this milestone birthday. New York was the obvious choice of destination and Jennie and Rachelle were must-have companions on this momentous adventure. We plotted and planned a vacation that seemed so far away in time...

When it finally arrived we were fully prepared to take the Big Apple by storm and leave no sight unseen, no experience...un...experienced!

How can I even begin to describe four days brimming with freedom, shopping, stalking, exploring, adventuring, eating, strolling, hailing, applauding, screaming, all while laughing over everything and nothing, creating memories and taking full advantage of an incredible once in a lifetime (hopefully not-we REALLY want to go back) event!

At the airport as we awaited our long plane ride home, much more subdued than we had been for several days, reflecting on our experiences, and anticipating reentry into real life, Rachelle questioned,

"K...What are your top three highlights?"

I answered first though Rachelle and Jennie both had identical lists.

1. "Constantine"

After four years of obsessed infatuation we finally were able to meet/accost the stunning long-haired rocker/American Idol Alum (season four for those not quite as obsessed). He was gracious and humble, accommodating and charming...even the second time we came around to see him! His Broadway hit Rock of Ages was delicious, rowdy fun that took us back to the famed rock and roll era of our youth!

2. "Wicked"

The music, the story, the emerald themed theater all created a Broadway experience unlike any other! I was so consumed with the mesmerizing production that when it ended I felt as though I was saying goodbye to a long forsaken friend!

3. "Shopping...SoHo and Canal Street."

While taking in the outrageous awesomeness that is Canal Street we were approached by a tiny Asian woman.

"you like designer purse?"

"yes we do!"

We followed our swift little guide down two blocks, around a corner and into a little store. The shop looked just like the many lining Canal Street, but then we were led through a door and down a long unfinished staircase into a musty basement below. I figured we would either come out of there with some rockin' purses...or we wouldn't come out at all...Luckily we were ushered into an obscure room filled to the brink with beautiful handbags and purses of every shape, size and color. Dolce and Gabana, Juicy Couture, Guess, Prada, Coach, Louis Vuiton...displayed in all their lovely knock-off glory! Needless to say, we walked out with humongous smiles on our faces and black plastic garbage bags containing two purses a piece in our hands!

Can I really limit it to three...? Of course not, here's the rest...

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge and strolling through Central Park. Gazing at the illustrious Statue of Liberty as we skimmed by on the Statten Island Ferry. Oh how I loved the infectious energy of Times Square, and the pizzeria in Little Italy where we each ate an entire pizza while guessing how many people were named Vinny and Tony in the vicinity. Riding the subway where I had hoped only to not be knifed, and to see rats--both were accomplished. Watching Rachelle hail a cab like she was a NY native, and posing every two feet so Jennie could take another picture. The people, the sights, the sounds...

All culminated into a trip that was so much more than a trip! It was a much needed escape from the worries and trials of life. A celebration of reaching forty...

...and a reminder that best friends are are a gift unparalled, to be appreciated, adored and admired!

(even more than a cheap G&B purse!)

Who dyes Easter Eggs at nine o'clock at night?

2009-04-14T09:35:00.000-07:00

...someone who just can't seem to get her (c.r.a.p.) together...!!!

At eight thirty five Friday night before Easter I said to Jaycee and Luke,

"Go get your pj's on, I'm running to the grocery store, when I get back we'll dye our eggs."

They looked at me, then looked at each other.

"Yay! We get to color eggs AT NIGHT!!!"

I put a pot on water on the stove to boil and filled it to the brink with pure white fragile looking eggs.

"Keep an eye on the stove, guys!" I hollered on my way out the door.

Twenty two minutes later our kitchen smelled of vinegar, as eggs, hands and counter tops began to turn shades of green, blue, hot pink and orange.

Thus began our whirlwind weekend of celebration.

Why must everything be so rushed?

Saturday commenced with a memorable trip to the temple to witness the sealing of sweet Trey to his family. What a beautiful experience watching my sister and her family all dressed in white standing together in the plush glory of the temple sealing room. It was a rare glimpse in an eternal perspective...so appropriate this Easter weekend.

A quaint family gathering organized to perfection by my fabulous younger sis was a nice time to visit with relatives and celebrate Trey's official conduction into the Halling family and onto the records of the church.

Work followed.

Then a late night filling baskets with goodies and toys. No secrecy needed as we do not believe in the Easter Bunny in our family. Years ago one Easter Eve when Lexi and Kelsey were young I spent the better part of an hour (at least) attempting to calm two hysterical little girls who were suddenly terrified at the notion of a giant bunny hopping through our house during their slumber. I finally had to dispel the ridiculous fantasy in order to soothe their worries...

"THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS THE EASTER BUNNY!" I exclaimed. "Dad and I fill your baskets, hide the eggs, EVERYTHING!"

They just looked at me with eyes wide and tear-filled.

"Ok, that makes me feel better..."

and that was the end of the bunny!

Easter Sunday was lovely...up until Primary where I attempted to teach the story of the Resurrection to a group of nine six year olds visibly rushing from the gallons of sugar engulfed in the form of marshmallow peeps and jellybeans. A young visitor to our class added to the mayhem as he recounted experiences of helping his grandfather slaughter cattle (what?!). Before I realized what was being said, he explained in great detail the slicing, bleeding, and whining of a dying animal to the horror of myself and the rest of the kids and compounded the attention issue by regaling my young class with a nauseatingly nightmarish story. Attempts to bring focus back to the sacred subject at hand were hardly possible, so I relented and passed out plastic eggs containing...even more sugar.

After church we hosted an Easter dinner with Scott's side of the family and each of the kids gathered multi-colored eggs hidden within the nooks and crannies of our backyard. Bubble gum, tootsie rolls and even a few dollar bills (slipped in by Grandma) ended up in the baskets of the enthusiastic children.

As the day came to a close I had just a few moments to reflect on the holiday that had just taken us by storm. Despite late night egg coloring, out of control primary kids, and organizing Easter dinner, I was somehow able to hold consistently in the back of my mind an image of the Savior in his resurrected glory and feel his sacrifice and love for me...

...the one who just can't seem to get things together.

What's for breakfast?

2009-03-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

How bout' a little boy bundled in a bright blue blanket, nestled in the "big chair" gazing sleepy-eyed at the tv awaiting Scooby Doo while tolerating just four more minutes of Baby Looney Tunes...

A Lukey burrito...sounds delightfully delectable to me!

Mid life crisis?

2009-03-10T19:13:00.000-07:00

Perhaps. Or maybe I'm just a little nonsensical these days, what with the never-ending winter, turning forty, etc. and so on. Whatever the explanation, something's in the air, and I'm taking on whole new rebel lovin' obsession!

Sidenote: (I am, on average, a pretty conservative gal. I am (usually) content with my role as housewife (only occasionally Desperate!) and mother of four and find joy (most of the time) in the simple pleasures afforded by the luxury of staying home and caring for my ever-growing brood...)

Lately...however, the words to "Satisfaction" echo through my head complete with high notes and visions of half smiles...and I have found myself drawn to my computer, (specifically to YouTube) typing in the name A D A M
L A M B E R T...

You know who I'm talking about, don't you...? The absolutely stunning, blue-eyed, eye-lined, black nailed, ring adorned, sleek leather jacket donned, multi-range, belting sensation that has me riveted to my TV every week tuning into the most exciting season of American Idol since season four...

when I met Constantine...

(I have a history)

Once again I find myself attempting to take an introspective look at myself and question why I cannot simply "enjoy" something. I hurdle average levels of interest and propel my greater-than-normal fixation right into a realm of complete oblivion to all but the object of my obsession.

If this is, in fact, a crisis seeped with insecurities about reaching the middle of my life, I must say... at least my current obsession is safely tucked into a flat screen hanging on my wall and not taking the form of a dangerously fast automobile or two-wheeled "death cycle." Am I right?

(Gotta go--my favorite spiky-haired, gothic-inspired genius of a musical artist is about to make his entrance!)

BECAUSE

2009-02-26T17:04:00.000-08:00

I pampered myself today. It was therapeutic and crucial to my current well being, but it was pampering nonetheless.

After I made the appointment I second guessed my motives and considered self-indulgence, but then paused to acknowledge the reasons why I sought out a refuge of hot stones and deep tissue massage in the first place...

BECAUSE

...I have two teenage daughters who depending on the direction of the wind will choose to engage with me in conversation or roll their mascara-ed eyes when I inquire about school or friends.

BECAUSE

...I have Jaycee (who is my darling) but whose issues with such tricky things as weight, anxiety and academic/social situations at school make me weary on a daily basis as I strive to protect her and encourage and challenge her all at the same time.

BECAUSE

...Luke, who creamed me in a game of Super Smash Bros. on the Wii responded to his victory with a resounding "I sure beat the hell out of you!"

BECAUSE

...I am eating chicken for at least two meals every single solitary day.

BECAUSE

...I have not had a Hershey's Kiss for over a month.

BECAUSE

...My hormones are completely messed up and to remedy the associated symptoms I have been overloaded with doses of estrogen which make my moods swing like a gigantic pendulum, my head ache despite large doses of Ibuprofen, and a little thing called patience extinct within my existence.

BECAUSE

...I sit between at least two children at the kitchen island every evening bouncing back and forth completing stacks of homework rendered by teachers who have doled out enough punishment for taking my kids out of school for a week to keep me from ever doing it again.

(and lastly)

BECAUSE

...As I lay under the warmed sheet on the massage table my therapist ran the heel of her hand down the right side of my back and I felt the uneven "bump bump bump" of knotted muscles down the length of my trapezius and latissimus dorsi. An accumulation of stress, obligation, worry, time constraints, and self doubt (aka motherhood) all imbedded in the musculature of my spinal area.

Tonight I feel much better, more relaxed...BECAUSE I chose to put off doing a load of laundry and vacuuming my family room to take care of me and my needs.

Selfish? No way. Smartest thing I've done all week? Definitely.

BECAUSE... I deserve a little pampering...

(and you do too...)

(our) Fun filled February fling in fotos (and a few facts)

2009-02-23T18:27:00.000-08:00

First time fliers, my kids along with cousins spent two hours acquainting themselves with the nooks and crannies of a commercial airplane (especially fascinating...the miniature bathroom with a turbo-sucking toilet, and barf bags in the pocket of every seat which were filled during the flight with with various toys, lip glosses, and even a cookie or two).

Welcomed by a drizzly California winter day we explored Seaworld under cloudy skies, and our first day of Disneyland under multi-colored plastic ponchos. By Wednesday our pleas to the sun god were answered as the thermostat cleared 70 (!!!!) and jackets were shed by noon. Our fun increased each day, as did the temperatures, and our lily white, dead of winter skin began to turn various shades of pink as we stood with arms outstretched faces tilted to the sun soaking in every last scrumptious ray!

Sights and sounds of the most magical place on earth were dampened only by a slight (actually a pretty wicked) case of bronchitis (yours truly--who never gets sick...had to take a trek to an urgent care--ironic, huh--for antibiotics and an inhaler).

Our final day was spent at Legoland which was adored by the little boys and endured by their mommas...

(Cami and I got a little bored...)

Oh, the memories of California 2009--Nineteen people in one suite? Elevator antics, Tower of Terror, where's Braxton? Trey, our angel. Six Flags is closed? Minivans on the California highway. Loads of love, laughter to last until next time...what fun we had!

"I can't believe you're 40!"

2009-02-09T16:09:00.000-08:00

Cami called me last Wednesday evening, "I'm calling to wish you happy last night ever in your thirties!" and thus began the extravaganzic (you can make up words as you mature...) event that was my 40th birthday...

I awoke to a bright sign in my front yard declaring me "over the hill" which garnered several honks and phone calls from neighbors and friends, voice mails squeezed in between multiple calls from family, relatives and best friends all laughing while exclaiming "I can't believe you are 40!"

An eagerly-anticipated traditional birthday lunch with my fabulous mom and sisters propelled my already incredible day into an afternoon filled with friends streaming through my door delivering thoughtful cards, decadent treats and generous gifts.

An evening surrounded by my husband and kids all looking at me like I'm going to start wrinkling up before their eyes (mom, do you feel old?) was highlighted by a gift consisting of forty envelopes containing love notes declaring forty reasons why they love me...(one of the best gifts I've ever received!)

Smothered with just the right amount of attention to make me feel extremely special and loved I mourned the day coming to an end and all the festivities and well wishes along with it.

Little did I realize that this monumental birthday was far too significant to be contained to just one day...

Another annual lunch (the following day) scheduled with my best friends (extraordinaire) was absolutely not what it appeared--which was an intimate get-together at Cheesecake Factory--it in fact turned out to be a grand surprise party including a group of those most dear from my "old" neighborhood, and my very favorites from my "new!" I was shocked and amazed, but, unfortunately not speechless as I rambled about "my old and new lives coming together..." (in a high pitched, slightly manic manner).

Turning forty was unlike anything I had imagined. I felt the significance of entering a brand new decade and celebrated with the enthusiasm this birthday deserves!

As I sit, five days post-new-decade, two celebratory lunches remain, as well as a load of gift cards and b-day money just waiting for spring shopping. I'm thinking, I'm a pretty lucky girl...a little old...but lucky!

Get with the "program" (catchy title)/ I cannot believe I am still talking about weight (honest title)

2009-01-29T19:10:00.000-08:00

When I was in high school I was considered a "big girl." I was certainly never obese, I wasn't even that "round and puffy" type of overweight. I was solid from several years of dance, and don't remember anything resembling a muffin top resting atop my 501s, or rolls of spongy skin protruding from my raised collared, button-down pastel tinted blouses.

Still, I was one of three or four bigger-ish girls in dance company (my instructor often threatened to make me--and my less-than-anorexic sidekicks--step on the scales in front of the entire company if we did not lose weight by concert time) (I usually managed to drop about seven lbs per concert by starving myself of everything other than apples and frosted mini-wheats...) Despite a few confidence crushing comments and wince worthy moments of exclusion within the circled halls of my high school, I managed to graduate a sunny, surprisingly secure eighteen year old (wonderful friends, good grades and a challenging position on the newspaper staff were more than sufficient to offset the less than memorable events of my adolescent years...)

So, why this little trip down a lane full of "weighty" memories?

Well, I, like the fabulous Oprah Winfrey herself, "cannot believe I am still talking about weight!"

This has been an issue for me off and on my entire life. From times during college when daily doughnuts enjoyed at the union building led to a ten pound gain within just a few short months, to my first experience with Weight Watchers where I had great success and the first loss in my life. After pregnancies I was miraculously able to lose baby weight as well as an additional few pounds...three months after Roo was born I weighed less than I did in high school.

Age...kids...stress...who knows the reason...but, I have since become the queen of fluctuation. Personal trainers, Weight Watchers (again), Dexatrim, Isagenix--you name it--I've tried it. I even facilitated the formation of a "weight loss group" with three of my friends. Each week we met together for a weigh-in. We hopped up on that scale for all to see. You'd think the pressure/humiliation of displaying something so personal as pounds and ounces would be a substantial motivator...but, alas, we only justified non-compliance, and supported each other through a complete and total lack of weight loss success!

Why, after all these years, have I recently embarked upon yet another plan to lose weight? (because I will never give up on that trim, healthy me that is just dying to break out of this extra twenty pound shell!) and why am I sharing this with every single soul that I know? (because I am the absolute polar opposite of private...)

As January opened its doors to a new year of hope and resolution, I committed to a life altering lifestyle change that requires willpower, strength and resolve.

Whole wheat...everything, sugarfree...everything. Chicken, tuna, broccoli and spinach replace cereal and pancakes for dinner, but can be alternated with yummy dishes from Rumbi and Subway. It is definitely smart, and it can be done--it will be done!

I am ready for this "program." Don't even think about calling it a diet--it's so much more than cutting calories. I have the advantage of accountability and direction from my trainer/nutritionist/psychological counselor aka my "guy" Wes. He's keeping me focused and changing my life.

I hope to shrink my body, but even more than that I wish to transform my mind. Those thoughts bred from a near lifetime of self image insecurities are about to give way to a successful more confident (and hopefully thinner in the process) me!

As simple as that

2009-01-19T20:52:00.000-08:00

As '09 begins to secure that somewhat familiar, broken-in feel I think I've got a handle on some of the things in store for us this year.

I will never have to pay money for a yoga class...

simply because I find myself (frequently) closing my eyes and taking deep cleansing breaths in response to a rapidly maturing teenager who literally lives for friends, boys, name brand clothing, music and high school (she's still in jr. high). Anything outside the realm of these five categories is typically ignored with an eye roll and an exasperated "tuh!" (rhymes with duh)

Fortunately, my girl is a talker, (and she loves to borrow my shoes), so she confides in me the ups and downs of living life on the cusp of her great high school debut complete with boy joys and heartaches, demanding teachers and compulsions to fit in and yet be able to stand alone. For this confidence I am grateful, as well as for the iron-clad will and unwavering standards she displays for all who know or come in contact with her.
(I pray every day this will not change.)

I will never understand the mind of my second born child...

simply because one minute she is riding the unicycle (she requested and received for Christmas) around the family room, teetering precariously, arms outstretched and flailing in a vain attempt to control her balance atop the one wheeled cycle, and the next she is locked in her bathroom applying mascara, curling hair, painting nails, exiting only to inquire "I am ever going to get contacts?" Then she's off with friends to the movies to see a show and meet a boy...what is up with that?

Fortunately, my girl is an incredibly kind, mild tempered soul, and as she diffuses troublesome tirades and squabbles amongst her friends, I am grateful that she is a peacemaker.

The rest of us know that life revolves around the two mentioned above...

simply because...they are enjoying life, making the most of new-found freedom and expanding boundaries as they develop a sense of who they are and what direction they are heading. Of course they don't realize all that is going on in their adolescent lives. They are focused not on the importance of wise, imperative decisions, but on what to wear, where to go and who will be there.

2009 will be a great year...

simply because I've learned to take cleansing breaths and have given up on the notion of consistency in my household.

This year I resolve to have fun with my girls, treasure the positives and not brood over the negatives. We will enjoy this time of life, it's just too much fun not to!

A boy and his game, a mom and hers

2009-01-12T19:16:00.000-08:00

Every morning--since Christmas, Luke rolls out of bed, eyes heavy with dream-laden sleep, drags himself to the family room and begins connecting cords and cables with a sudden vigilance and intensity that appears out of nowhere and guides him through the Wii setup that will project onto the television screen and propel him into his virtual paradise, a world of battling creatures in a brawl fought for victory and domination.

Jumping from side to side as paddles swipe at nothing but connect with various nefarious beings within a dark abandoned castle or on a violently careening ship, Luke plays until finally coaxed to his now soggy bowl of Life cereal and tepid glass of chocolate milk.

School clothes are adorned only after promises are made for another game including mom as player #2 in the form of a rather well-endowed and unyielding princess named Peach.

"Push A, Mom, no--now push B! Use your super-powers, Mom! YESSSS! I won! Again!"

(never did locate the fierce Miss Peach on the TV screen...a little too much action for me...

After-school snacks are a thing of the past as backpack and coat are tossed with one hand while the other grabs the remote before Wizards of Waverly Place consumes the coveted television screen.

Playtime is suspended for homework and dinner, then resumes for one final face-off before that pesky bedtime creeps in and once again dissolves a satisfying late night of fantastical fighting and mythical sparring.

Yes, he is definitely OBSESSED.

No, I haven't the faintest idea where that peculiar personality trait came from...

By the way...

The eighth season begins in just twenty-two more hours!!!!

But, who's counting?

Who's obsessed?

Whatever...

(I cannot wait!)

Happy New Year and a little something sweet!

2009-01-06T21:45:00.000-08:00

Time passes...hours turn to days, which become weeks, that fold into months and so quickly transcend into yet another remarkable year... Happy 2009!

Our New Year began with a bang...or a slam to be more precise...actually a slam and a blood-curdling scream...the slam of a bedroom door (right at the strike of midnight) on Jaycee's right hand pinching her pinkie finger between the door frame and swinging portal (hence the scream...). The soft tissue was crushed, but fortunately, the bone was spared, and though swollen to twice its size and colored various shades of blue and purple, an ice pack and buddy taping (not to mention several engrossed, condoling friends) dried up cascading tears within an admirably short period of time. In true momma bear fashion I was ready to lop off the head of the little tyrant who so carelessly shut the door on Jaycee's misplaced fingers. But, in true Jaycee fashion, my daughter was quick to relieve the perpetrator of any sort of blame or malice.

"It was just an accident, mom, he didn't do it on purpose."

Followed by:

"I shouldn't have put my hand near the door in the first place."

That's my girl. So sweet...and forgiving...she is the most charitable person I know.

Jaycee is nine; my third girl, my most sensitive, complicated, insistent, and taxing of my children. She also treasures me more than any other person on the planet. She writes me love notes and draws pictures for me to display. Most contain images of the two of us, doing things together, surrounded by hearts, swirls and rainbows. Jaycee is affectionate and tender, generous and thoughtful. She has an innate sense of goodness that she embraces and shares with others. She is very spiritual, and has been blessed with a fervent testimony and an unyielding desire to choose the right.

Jaycee struggles a bit with issues beyond her understanding or control. Situations and pressures that would cause many adults to throw their hands up in frustration, are daily occurrences for Jaycee, and are often accompanied by the scrutiny and criticism of others. With maturity far beyond her nine little years, Jaycee manages to maintain a true love for all, thrives on peacemaking and is an ardent champion of the underdog.

Even when pitching a fit over bothersome sibling antics( she can tantrum like no other...), or pouting about a friend's new coveted acquisition (usually a darling new outfit for her doll...) Jaycee is able to somehow maintain her charming nature and snap from hysterics to delight in mere seconds.

Lexi summed it up perfectly not long ago when she looked at her little sister (who happened to be explaining the importance of keeping the Sabbath Day holy) and said "Jaycee is just so........good..."

I couldn't agree more.

I love Christmas

2008-12-28T13:42:00.000-08:00

I love that Christmas is not merely a day, it is an entire season wrapped in the sights of glowing bulbs atop sloping rooftops and boughs of evergreen laden with baubles and bells, berries and bows, the sounds of hurried shoppers grasping for lists in deep pockets of down filled coats and familiar carols with words that remind all of Christmases past and all its glorious magic and wonder, the smells of sugar cookies cooling on frosted platters accented by bite-sized morsels of nut-filled fudge, and hot cocoa steaming in Santa mugs topped with whipped cream and marshmallows just waiting for chilly little ones to burst through the door with red cheeks, tingling ears, hands and toes.

I love the focus on giving. Good people bestowing goodness on those less fortunate...and the many subtle reminders of the Savior in poignant nativity scenes and touching stories illustrating His supreme love and sacrifice.

I love the excitement and anticipation of the season, squeals of delight as long wished for trinkets are discovered beneath brightly colored paper and silvery bows.

I love time spent with family and friends, long evenings and late nights, no schedule to keep, just fun to be had.

I love pictures with Santa, getting gussied for holiday parties, shopping for hard-to-find gifts, and watching Rudolph on TV. I love my kindness tree (filled with hearts a full week before Christmas this year), four advent calendars that mark each day of December with a treat or a puffy little velcro backed toy, and my new pre-lit (costco) garland that dangles from my banister in all its red and gold glory adding the the perfect festive touch to my holiday haven.

Most of all...I love that I get to do it all again...next year

Tis the season

2008-12-18T07:13:00.000-08:00

Picture perfect holiday bliss.

Basking in the tranquil scents and sounds of Christmastime (together as a family).

Savoring festive offerings of the season.

Elated anticipation and thoughtful reflection welcome the most magical day of the year.

(ha ha ha---oops! I mean ho ho ho!)

Merry Christmas everyone!

Cindy has added you as a friend on Facebook.

2008-12-09T19:38:00.000-08:00

Don't be surprised if this little ditty shows up in your inbox sometime in the near future. It seems that everyone I know and have ever known is getting a little facebook love from yours truly.

My obsessive nature has grabbed hold of this pop culture internet phenomenon and turned it into my own personal quest to contact as many people as I possibly can during waking hours (which seem to be stretching well into the a.m. these days!).

I am absolutely, overwhelmingly, exhaustively, frustratingly busy right now...

I am leaving town this weekend and have cleaning, packing, rearranging and scheduling to do.

I am hosting the biggest party of my entire life in just over a week and I have decorating, shopping, phone calling and some serious organizing to do.

Christmas is a mere fifteen days away and I have yet to wrap up my wrapping (or shopping for that matter).

Luke just changed his ENTIRE Christmas list which means that I now have loads of exchanging, brainstorming and reevaluating to do.

But...I found Kim! My best friend from eighth/ninth grade through this miraculous networking site--that I resisted for so long--but have now embraced--and she left the sweetest note...on my WALL...it's been over twenty years since we have talked...

And then there's Jeff...one of my closest friends from elementary/middle school. We have not seen one another or spoken since half way through high school and are now communicating via facebook messaging! He has two daughters and lives in Sandy! It's incredible!

I haven't had time to work out the particulars of the system, or to know how in the world to respond to "Jo Blow has sent you a snowball..." For now I am steadfast and focused on scouring and scrutinizing endless lists of friends, hoping to spot a familiar face or a name from the past.

Christmas, Shristmas...I'll get to it...eventually. Right after I confirm the request I just received to be someone's friend!

Shopping for Legos and dusting the family room never brings this kind of self satisfaction!

No mashed potatoes, but we're having a baby!

2008-11-28T21:31:00.000-08:00

Six years ago today was Thanksgiving Day. We were planning to have dinner at Cherie's, we were in charge of the mashed potatoes.

I was excruciatingly pregnant, two weeks shy of my due date and on bed rest attempting to avoid a uterine rupture (a common risk after three c-sections).

Long story short...I awoke in the wee hours of the morning in an unusual amount of pain, and rushed to the hospital (due to the aforementioned risks of this pregnancy). I was hooked up to monitors and given a massive dose of morphine for the pain. When it was discovered that I was in full blown labor (huge problem due to aforementioned risks of this pregnancy) everyone moved in double time to get me prepped and ready for the OR. The doctors, nurses, my husband, and parents (who had just arrived at the hospital) were extremely concerned and their sober faces hinted at their obvious unease. I was the only one untouched by the gravity of the situation because I was lounging on a beach somewhere south of the border, occasionally floating just above the surface of the earth in a delightful, cozy sort of way. I was in a narcotic daze (aka ten mgs of morphine) that kept me content and untroubled through a hurried transfer to the operating room, a spinal block, and a quick c-section that recovered my baby just in time as a two inch tear was discovered in my uterus.

Luke was born at seven o'clock in the morning. Our fourth child and first boy. What a treasure he was from the moment he entered this world. I fell madly in love with my little guy the second I saw him, and continue to be enraptured by him today.

He is funny, animated, loving, stubborn, emotional, and incredibly handsome. He is polite, well behaved and extremely intelligent. He loves Legos and sports, riding bikes and watching Star Wars. He adores his sisters though he is a master at torture and teasing.

I love watching him grow and change, though I wish the transition would slow and each divine childhood stage would linger...just a bit longer...

I love that Luke's birthday correlates so conveniently with Thanksgiving each year, because he is certainly one of my greatest blessings and I am absolutely, unconditionally, overwhelmingly grateful for him!

Am I a dork or just a true fan?

2008-11-25T07:13:00.000-08:00

Friday, November 21, 2008.

At approximately 4:00pm a group of individuals dressed in black, faces translucently pale, lips a dark ebony, practically pounced on the automatic doors at Jordan Commons. It was the forever-anticipated opening day of Twilight, and this band of dark shady looking gals were heading straight for the theater. Could it be the elusive Cullen clan coming to preview their paramount debut on the big screen? Perhaps a covey of villainous creatures seeking revenge on the unusual but freakishly beautiful family that have the entire female population in a frenzy over their illustrious frontman Edward.

"Who wants popcorn?!?"

Nope! It's just my girls and me so caught up in the crazy madness that is Twilight we just couldn't attend the movie that has occupied our every waking thought and conversation for the past several weeks dressed simply as...mortals...

The movie began amidst screams, squeals and manic applause. Near combustible energy exploded in shrieks, and declarations of love for Edward filled every inch of the theater.

That energy continued as the complicated love affair between Edward and Bella unfolded brilliantly on the screen, reaching it's peak at their first kiss ("I want to try something...hold very still...") (!!!!!!!!) and carried the captivated audience through til the intense and vicious ending.

Twilight was a cinematic experience unlike any other. My enthusiasm was matched only by that of my girls whose high pitched screams at the first sight of Jacob left them trembling and unable to speak for close to an hour...

As the movie came to an end we remained glued in our seats, gazing at the screen, scouring every credit until the lights came up. Our gothic looks were lost in the fascination of the show, and it wasn't until we wandered out of the theater to sideways glances and nods of understanding that we remembered our painted faces and drab attire.

The experience just wouldn't have been complete without the look. We were in "vampire mode." I will make no excuses or apologies, but... next time...we might try going for a normal, blend in with the crowd, don't bring any attention to ourselves, (aka boring) look!

My Christmas Wish

2008-11-23T15:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was wandering the interior of Southtowne Mall, content and unrushed, humming along to Christmas music wafting from unseen, muffled speakers. Dollops of red, green, silver and gold caught my eye as I recognized and embraced that exhilarating, giddy feeling that marks the beginning of the holiday season.

I was in a happy mood, happy enough to pause at the kiosk peddling fuzzy little magically moving worms and mention to the dark eyed, pony tailed vendor that I had actually bought some illusion inducing novelties identical to those displayed on his cart in Las Vegas last year. In a suspiciously heavy accented voice he attempted to convince me of the upgraded version which he was willing to sell--to me only--for a mere five dollars a piece. I ambled away with a slight shake of head and a bit of a smirk in response to the four times he referred to me as beautiful...I know...anything to make a sale, but it still made me smile (just a little).

After a stop at Hollister (where the lighting is so dim I ended up buying a hoodie and sweats that were two different shades of blue...) I started up the stairs with only a sideways glance toward PretzelTime (no excess carbohydrates for me...) when I saw him...bright red pants suspended around a full middle, snowy white beard, spectacles resting precariously on the bridge of his nose...

"Oh!" I exclaimed looking around. "It's SAN...ta..." My excitement abated as I realized there was no one around to share this first magical sighting. No baby snuggling in a stroller, no sticky-fingered toddler grasping my pocket, no preschooler begging for a stop at the pretzel shop I so deftly avoided. A faint but noticeable aching feeling tugged at my heart as I realized I was traipsing through the mall unaccompanied, which is convenient and welcome on most days, but not on the day I spotted Santa Claus setting up to welcome eager, excited holiday guests...

A delightful rendition of Grown Up Christmas List caught my attention just as I caught the eye of Santa bustling a few steps below me. He smiled as I stared and focused on the words of one of my favorite holiday tunes which detail the difference between a child's wishes for Christmas and an adult's. How appropriate.

I thought about how life has changed. I remember when our days were not broken up by school time, only nap time. The closest we got to homework was reading aloud Dr. Suess and A Bad Case of Stripes. I remember going for days without leaving the house...it was easier that way. Things were simple then. I could snuggle and smooch my little ones without embarrassment (theirs not mine). I wasn't confiscating cell phones at dinner time and arguing about weekend curfews. I didn't worry about team tryouts and good grades. Timeout was a form of punishment not "me time."

When I arrived home, bags and packages carefully hidden away from curious eyes, I welcomed my kids home from school and told of my Santa sighting.

"Did you talk to him?"

"What did he look like?

"What was he doing?"

After promises were made to return to the mall, young ones in tow, we went about our daily after school activities--homework, practicing, lessons...

Life has changed, but the changes are good. I have fun with my kids. I love that we can all go to the movies and truly enjoy the same show. We play games together, we laugh, a lot. We can ride the same rides at Disneyland and Lagoon, and go to restaurants that don't provide high chairs or even kid menus.

If I have the chance to talk with Santa this year, I will ask him for a very special gift...My Christmas wish is to enjoy each stage of my life. No wishing away limitations that come with having a young family, no longing for more freedom and time to myself. That time will come, sooner than I really want it to. I wish to build memories, and then cherish them forever through the continual changing tides of childhood and life. I wish to always look back with a gleam and a giggle knowing that I made the most out of every single moment and experience.

I know I will spot Santa a time or two this season as I maneuver my way through holiday shopping at the mall. I will make a special effort to take my kids at least once, even the older ones, to visit together, which we can still do, and enjoy. I might even splurge on an expensive (in my opinion) professional photo. That way I'll have a stronghold on the memory--Christmas 2008, suspended in time, just as they are, this fabulous stage of life, appreciated and treasured forever.

There's a new girl in town

2008-11-17T17:19:00.000-08:00

...and she's got a delightful little blog labeled Forever Strong.

Roo is creator and contributor to this online glimpse into life as a sensational tween. On this site she reveals her likes (friends, cell phone, Twilight, friends, tennis, cousins, sweets, friends, TV, Orlando Bloom, Jonas Brothers, and friends) and her dislikes (just vegetables, paying tithing and mean, annoying people).

Pictures, polls and games, all the little quirky additions blogger makes available to those of us who rely on internet service and dependable keyboards to draft our thoughts and activities, are front and center on Kelsey's blog. It's quite an enjoyable little site, about a darling little (actually not so) girl!

I am very proud of her.

(I know you want to go to Roo's blog...just click on her name over in my side bar)

Elf task force

2008-11-10T20:22:00.000-08:00

Today I clipped a little snippet from the Draper Paper touting Santa's Helper who could arrange for the big guy to entertain at holiday parties, etc. I will be hosting our extensive extended family festivities at a Christmas gala and a pop in from Kris Kringle would definitely be a holiday hit.

The little crumpled piece of newspaper was spotted instantly by Jaycee as she wandered into the kitchen after school.

"What's this?" she inquired.

"Oh, just a little Christmas ad." I answered nonchalantly.

"It says: call Santa's little helper, call early, times book up fast."
"Is that Santa's number? Can we call him? Why does it say to call early?"

(I know that the magical wonder of belief is fading as each year passes into the unrelenting reality of growing up. I protect the cherished secrets of Christmas for as long as I possibly can...and as it stands now, I am half and half with two who are in on the splendid ruse, and two who remain firm in their notions of flying reindeer and colorful, pointy-eared elves)

Thinking quickly I explained that the number Jaycee had discovered was not Santa's number, but, as it stated, was the contact information for Santa's helper.

"Parents can call this number and set up special surveillance for their kids by Santa's elves."

Jaycee gazed at me with a hint of disbelief, but not enough to call my bluff.

"Why do you have to call? You always tell us that Santa's elves come out right after Halloween (used to be Thanksgiving, but the threat is far too effective to utilize for only one short month) and they watch everyone, checking in and then reporting back to Santa."

"Well, this year I am especially concerned about all the fighting that goes on in our home. You guys are having a heck of a time getting along, and I thought an elf-task-force would help to keep you in line and to make Santa extra aware of how you are behaving."

"So there will be special elves watching us this year?"

"Yep, they are rigorously trained to watch certain children twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They are especially sensitive to arguing, name calling and tattling...NOTHING gets by these guys."

"...and why do you have to call early?" The question barely audible coming out as a squeak.

"There aren't very many elves qualified for this important role, so you have to get your name in quickly to receive an assignment."

"Hmmm."

(later that evening)

Jaycee: "Luke, guess what's wierd? Mom hired army elves to watch us this year! They're going to be everywhere, all the time. We have to be REALLY good or we're going to have a REALLY bad Christmas!"

Ohhhh..."I'm Dreaming of a White (lie) Christmas" this year!

Luke's Post (erior)

2008-11-07T07:09:00.000-08:00

The bare facts are these...Luke is very dedicated to his schoolwork, doing all he can to keep from falling behind. He studies diligently so as to keep ahead of the crack, I mean pack, and would be devastated to slip to the rear of his class. Bottom line is this...(without sounding too cheeky) it would be such a bummer if he didn't get a least a B (as in buttock).

Where the good things are

2008-11-04T14:32:00.000-08:00

(Cue catchy tune in your head)...Good things Utah, good things Utah, good things Utah, where the good things are...

Now rewind back a few days...before Walmart's intercom system was leaking faint renditions of O Little Town of Bethlehem and Target's tinsel topped trees were on display...It was Halloween, and the girls and I spent the morning in the audience of the local chat-fest/cooking/craft/television show, Good Things Utah!

Watching closely you could see each of us waving and clapping in our Halloween attire from the sidelines. The girls loved seeing themselves on the in-studio monitor and imagining the television sets that were transmitting their images into hundreds of homes! We all loved meeting the hosts (who are even more stunning in person) and watching the backstage action where several cameras, microphones teleprompters, props and a moving stage worked around each other in perfect symphony to pull off the live, fast moving, sometimes improvised show.

No adventure of ours would be complete without our best friends...Jennie (who scored our audience seats) captured quite the cameo dressed as a darling fifties gal and was displayed on camera along with a snip of music from Grease! Jessica was actually given a microphone and asked about her fabulous Cindy Lou Who up do! "There's a cup in my hair..." was the best line of the entire show! Rachelle (looking lovely, dressed as her favorite nurse) spotted herself on camera and searched everywhere for the source of the recording ("which camera is mine?")! The rest of the girls grinned, gleamed and giggled, naturals at playing into the unseen lens!

Good things...all around!

What's a vampire's favorite candy?

2008-10-30T13:01:00.000-07:00

...SUCKERS!!!
(compliments of Jaycee)

What's a vampire's favorite snack?
...PEOPLE!!!
(compliments of Luke)

It's been all Halloween all the time around here as we prep for the SPOOKIEST day of the year!

Our family Halloween party on Sunday was packed with creative costumin', classic chili (served with a side of Fazoli's) eatin', game playin', picture takin', Braxton gazin', Treyson cuddlin', and orange frosted sugar cookie inhalin'!

The Oborns minus Ashton (darn strep throat) and Thom (he was going to be dressed as a bee keeper...cute!)

The Hallings...
bringing a little Christmas cheer to an eerie Halloween celebration!

Billy Ray and Miley Cyrus...nice to meecha! Plus...our beautiful girls who wanted to be..."hot guys!"

We have a nifty little "pumpkin patch" right around the corner from our house. There are loads of pumpkins to choose from right out of a convenient tawny-tinted(cardboard) bin!

Our ideal jack-o-lanterns-to-be were carved in a jiff thanks to Scott's ingenious idea and dexterity with a jig saw!

Jaycee was the only "Pebbles" at her Halloween parade this year! The pink wig and matching lipstick made her the envy of the fourth grade!

Luke hates his Batman costume ("it BUGS me!") (He REFUSES to wear the mask!) and is looking ahead to next year when he plans to dress as a "scary football player."

Trick or treating here we come...I am bracing myself for the onslaught of Reeses and Kit Kats!

Have a SPOOKTACULAR holiday!

Does anyone know David Archuleta's address?

2008-10-15T10:13:00.000-07:00

...cuz we've got something REALLY cool to show him!

Jaycee's activity days "daddy-daughter derby" was held last week, and the theme for this years girl-infused pinewood derby race was "all about me." The girls along with their dads (and moms for creative input) were charged with creating a car that would not only sail along the metal tracks of the official derby race course, but would also reflect their personality, their likes and interests.

Thinking we'd construct something pink with lots of glitter and jewels to represent our girliest of girls, Jaycee surprised us by suggesting a David Archuleta car. "We can glue pictures of him all over the car!"

One third of a bottle of modge podge later, and we had a very unique expression of Jaycee's riveting interest of the adorable American Idol who captured her heart and managed to replace Hannah Montana as favorite/most fascinating/talented person alive!

I believe that though David is a national phenomenon there has been no greater homage paid to him as that of the pinewood derby car exacted in his irresistible honor.

We think...that he will think...that this car is awesome!

...attempts at well-roundedness...

2008-10-10T07:30:00.000-07:00

Ballet
Tap
Jazz
Tumbling
Cheer
Soccer
Basketball
Karate
Gymnastics
Acting
Musical Theatre
Singing
Piano
Guitar

Each of these activities are ones embraced at one time or another by my girls over the past eight or nine years. The first week or two of each new undertaking consistently sees the realization of an unknown passion, the discovery of a new life dream...

By week three at the announcement of lessons or practice I inevitably receive "the look." You know the look I'm referring to...cheeks filled with air, lips pursed in that "do I HAVE to?" sort of way. Eyes rolled back slightly and nostrils flared just a smidge. As soon as I see "the look," I know that yet another extracurricular pursuit is about to bite the dust.

If we make it to week six, we are in full blown "I HATE dance/cheer/guitar/karate!"

At two months a decision must be made--sometimes we're done, no looking back, even after non-refundable registration fees, costume fees, recital fees, etc. Other times we persevere, week in and week out enduring the ensuing battle over thirty minute practice periods, extra lessons for performances, sore muscles, "really mean" teachers/coaches/instructors, and interference with inflexible social agendas.

Our latest pursuit is tennis and we are miraculously in our second straight year. It is more demanding than many of our previous attempts at well-roundedness, but it has produced far less complaining and criticism than the other undertakings combined.

Dare I say..."we have finally found it--their 'thing' their 'niche' their 'life passion'?" Well maybe passion is going a bit far, but for now, I am enjoying the good natured grins and lack of nasal flaring associated with the sport that may have just captured the ever-fickle hearts of my girls!

P.S. My darling cousin Ciara "tagged" me--so fun, but slight problem--I HONESTLY cannot come up with six random facts about myself that nobody knows!

Early New Years resolution...try not to be such an open book!

SYTYCD=best...night...ever

2008-10-01T14:15:00.000-07:00

Joshua+Twitch+Katee+Kherington+Will+Bollywood+No Air+Bleeding Love+The Garden+Mercy (aka Door Dance)+Tabitha and Napoleon+Mia+Nigel=the most supreme form of entertainment on television surpassed only by the ultimate experience of seeing the top ten dancers live!

So You Think You Can Dance (absolute favorite show...transcended only by American Idol) finally came to Utah on tour, and we were there to welcome the most versatile and astoundingly talented hip hop, ballroom, contemporary and jazz dancers in America!

Joined by our fellow SYTYCD-obsessed friends, Lexi and I were on our feet, screaming for our favorites from the first chill-inducing moments of Cat Deeley's charmingly accented voice booming from the loudspeakers introducing each dancer, to the final group number performed flawlessly with the boundless energy and enthusiasm that made this one of the greatest concerts I have ever experienced.

After the show we shot out of the E-Center in true expert-fan fashion and secured a spot at the rear entrance where we were hoping the dancers would make an appearance for autographs and pictures. Just after midnight the first of the thirteen dancers sauntered out to the anxiously waiting crowd. Over the next hour or so we were able to talk with each of the performers. There is just nothing quite like actually meeting these iconic dancers that we followed each week throughout the summer months, hurrahing their unbelievable talent and dancing styles. They were funny and unassuming, affable and appreciative. They seemed as thrilled to meet us as we were to meet them!

Best part=hangin' out with my girl! (Fourteen and she still likes to do stuff with her mom!)

If you need me...

2008-09-26T19:33:00.000-07:00

...I'll just be over here...catching up with a few old friends...

Oh how I LOVE fall premiere week!

"Sweet" Dreams

2008-09-18T13:13:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have the dream where you are trying desperately to escape an often unseen menacing force by running with all your strength but your body won't comply and your legs move like they are submerged in wet cement? I often find myself in such a quandary during my slumber.

I know that dreams represent unconscious concerns of our everyday lives, and I understand exactly what my unconscious mind is trying desperately to communicate to my conscious psyche...get a grip! Pull those legs out of the sludge, and get movin'!

I have been trying to lose weight. The numbers on my bathroom scale are my unseen enemy--except they are not unseen--I can see them JUST fine as they stare at me every day, their fluorescent red configurations shouting "What has happened to you?!" I am trying, desperately, to escape the grip of those unwanted, stubborn pounds that insist on clinging to my body.

I know what I have to do--just like in my dreams--I know HOW to evade whatever is chasing me, but it's getting through the heavy, gooey barrier that's tough. In my life that barrier takes the form of snickerdoodles, cinnamon bears...and a little impairment I like to call will power deficiency.

I ate macaroni and cheese the other day, right out of the pan, with the big serving spoon. Kraft mac n' cheese with the orangish little noodles stained by gross powdered cheese.

At Paradise Bakery last week I ordered a salad, dressing on the side, no cheese, no crunchy little tortilla strips, just...salad...and a little chicken.
But, by the time I left the restaurant I had eaten my salad, plus a medium sized chocolate chip cookie, and half a slice of carrot cake...

Experts (?) have said if you are having a nightmare during sleep you can, with some practice and amazing control, actually insert conscious thoughts into your dreams. If you are running from something, for instance, stop--and confront whatever it is that is haunting you. They say this will wake you up, thus ending the nightmare.

So maybe if I confront my weight, acknowledge it and refuse to be swayed by tempting deserts or carbohydrate pitfalls, exercise EVERY morning rather than smacking the snooze button eight times, I will WAKE UP in the body I occupied just six and half years ago, this LB-laden body hidden in the recesses of my mind and reserved only for distressing REM sleep...

Reaching the top...and hitting rock bottom

2008-09-11T07:35:00.000-07:00

A good friend of mine (McDreamy) recently traveled to Africa as part of an expedition team to scale the tallest free standing mountain in the world--Mt. Kilimanjaro. Not every member of his team was able to reach the summit due to extreme terrain, and the complex, unyielding effects of high altitude. McDreamy was one of the few to make it to the top despite lungs burning with the transparent air that exists at such an extreme elevation. Accomplishing such a formidable, daunting task was so rewarding to McDreamy in so many ways. It allowed him a glimpse of just exactly what he was capable of accomplishing. When faced with a challenge, he now has greater fortitude to take it on, just as he did the rocky, icy face of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Inspired by my friend's recent adventure, I too decided to take on a challenge so difficult, so seemingly impossible, that I had many doubts as to whether or not I would make it to the end. My challenge did not involve travel, fundraising, learning a new language, or a documentary film crew, as my friend's great African expedition did, but it was no less challenging or intimidating.

I GAVE UP DIET COKE!

Unimaginable...I know. Out of character...definitely. And yet I accomplished something I never thought possible.

Why would I take on something so completely absurd?

The past few months have seen my very slow, arduous ascent from the depths of hypothyroid hell. Though feeling better, my energy level has remained at a microscopic level. To combat the never-ending fatigue my long standing addiction to diet coke was kicked up to a level that was completely out of control. I was drinking thirty-two ouncers on a daily basis. As early as 9am I was suggesting to my kids that we run over to McDonald's for a hash brown (greasy fried potatoes for them, gigantic fizzy liquid sunshine for me). I became a connoisseur of diet coke noting the differences between beverages served at McD's, Sonic, Seven Eleven and Maverick. I focused on the ice, the taste, the level of carbonation...Every waking hour was spent thinking about where I would go to get my next DC fix...okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I was hooked nonetheless.

I finally realized that the amount of diet coke I was consuming each day was having a counter productive effect. I was drinking it to boost my energy but in fact it was causing even greater fatigue and exhaustion.

After much deliberation and soul searching I decided to give up my precious diet coke for an eleven day exhausting, excruciating, torturous, "nutritional cleanse." Along with diet coke I also gave up all sweets and carbs, even fruit. For eleven grueling days I ate nothing but leafy greens, a bit of protein here and there, unsalted raw almonds (only two at a time) and filled gaps of starvation with little antacid-like wafers and protein shakes. Going without food was difficult, but the hunger was no match whatsoever for the caffeine withdrawl. The first couple of days I thought my head would explode. I lashed out at my kids just for asking for a drink of oj, and I glared at strangers in their cars wondering if they were on their way to Sonic for a DC with lime...

Each day seemed to get a bit easier as I worked through my monstrous cravings. My mood swings became a little less extreme, and each day my body ached and groaned
a little bit less for just a teenie tiny sip of diet coke.

I made it. Eleven full days--not one drop. And I must admit...I feel much better! I am allowing myself to splurge--a little--at restaurants, etc. But, no more cups that are bigger than my head... and no more daily runs to McDonalds.

I conquered my own Kilimanjaro. I suffered just as Mcdreamy suffered on that mountain. He couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe...well, I could breathe I guess, I just didn't WANT to breathe. He took on a challenge, one that taxed him mentally and physically. I took on a challenge, one that not only taxed me, it nearly killed me...

I learned a lot as I made my way through a week and a half of pure agony...I am a much stronger person than I thought, and I have a lot more in common with drug addicts than I ever imagined.

Whether you are climbing a mountain half way around the world, or giving up something that is a huge part of your world--my advice is this...

NEVER LET GO!

Everybody has to go to school

2008-09-02T06:12:00.000-07:00

Luke started Kindergarten last week.
It was a day both of us had anticipated with excitement since the leisurely, playful days of preschool ended last spring.
He is ready, he really is, to expand his horizons both academically and socially.
I am ready as well, to have a bit of freedom offered in three hour increments each and every afternoon.
We had the entire morning to prepare, but giddy with enthusiasm, Luke was dressed in his stark white shirt and dapper navy shorts by nine. Requesting lunch at ten fifteen, he exclaimed "why does the morning have to be SO LONG?"

As last minute preparations were underway,
-backpack-CHECK
-shoes-CHECK
-potty-uhhhh (hurry!) ok CHECK
my sweet boy looked up at me with the exact same eyes that had gazed at me from the round face of a chubby, hairless, giggly bundle of baby boy that I held in my arms such a short time ago...

"Maybe you could come to school with me, just for today," he whispered with just a hint of apprehension.

"Oh buddy, I'm sorry, they don't let moms come to kindergarten, only kids."

His face clouded for just a second, then brightened and broke into a huge grin as he grabbed his backpack and ran for the car shouting "I forgot! I get to go to RECESS today!"

As we approached his school, Luke noticed the other kids in uniforms. "Whoa! This is freaky!" He said. "Everyone looks exactly like ME!"

We pulled up to the kindergarten drop off area and after lots of kisses and gigantic hugs, Luke opened the door and hopped out. He glanced back at me as the teacher closed the door, and the tears that had been stoically suspended all morning suddenly came in gushing force.

"Oh no no no no! This was not supposed to happen! We were so prepared for this day! Just drive away..." I told myself even though every part of me wanted to jump out and squeeze my baby and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He would have such fun in class, and make so many friends, his teacher would adore him, he would learn so many fascinating things, and no, he was not going to grow up before my tear-filled eyes...

I did drive away, my vision clouded by the mist of tears shed for time that has passed too quickly.

When Luke got home he burst through the door ran into my lonely arms exclaiming "Mom, I love school!" Through his detailed account of the hours spent in kindergarten I learned that one girl in his class cried as she left her mom.

"Well, I'm glad that YOU were brave and didn't cry," I said to him.

He looked at me with a puzzled grin and said "Why would I cry? It's just school--everybody has to go to school."

"Don't I know it, buddy, everybody (even my baby!) has to go to school."

It's a wrap!

2008-08-24T13:50:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official...summer vacation 2008 has come to an end.

School starts tomorrow and our days of staying up late, sleeping in (8:30 even 9 some days!), and planning our days as we go along are a thing of the past as we look toward ninth (LAST year of middle school!), seventh(FIRST year of middle school!), and fourth grades...as well as KINDERGARTEN!

We bid farewell to a lovely summer suffused with all of our traditional activities including Lagoon, the fountains at Gateway, irrigation, Sugarhouse Park, Draper Days, Scofield and St. George...and recall with fond memories American Idol and Chris's new pool. We revel in our expired status as "the new family," and will always count this summer as a turning point in establishing fabulous new friendships while forever preserving the old.

Little things will always remind us of summer 08'...any mention of Michael Phelps, or the theme song of Phineas and Ferb. Treyson's arrival, Aunt Linda's passing, anniversaries (eighteen years!), and birthdays...all encompassed within three months of relaxing, chaotic, frolicking, summertime bliss!

Adoption is a wondrous thing

2008-08-19T18:40:00.000-07:00

I have had the opportunity to experience the joy, the uncertainty and the glorious miracle of adoption through my sister, Chris, and her husband and family.

Almost nineteen months ago Braxton entered our world and became my favorite soul on earth. He was adopted by Chris and Jas after they very faithfully followed the promptings that lead them in his sweet, dark-skinned direction. Satisfied with a realized life-long goal and desire to adopt a brown baby, Chris felt that her family was complete. After a short time, however, she and Jason both knew that there was another baby meant to join them by the same route that their fourth little one had arrived.
They never planned to have five children, but they knew they must have five children...three of their own making, Braxton, and one more to match their
chocolate-bunny baby.

Once their minds were made up, they left the rest up to Heavenly Father. They trusted that he would lay out a path for them to follow and would find the baby that belonged to their family. Once again they were led, and they followed without falter to the situation that would secure the presence of their fifth child.

Treyson was born last week, and what a miracle he is. His birth was complicated, but he is strong at a strapping five pounds eleven ounces. One look into his precious olive-toned face and it is so obvious that he is where he is supposed to be. The bond with these little ones that enter our family in a bit of an unconventional way is just as strong as with those that were actually, physically delivered by my sisters.
I am so grateful for a healthy, beautiful new nephew, and for his remarkably unselfish, constantly faithful parents who will serve as an example to me forever.

To be a vampire...or a writer...

2008-08-10T12:23:00.000-07:00

Stephanie Meyer is my hero...for a couple of reasons...

First of all, she provided me with four fabulous days of distraction and pure vicariousness as I escaped almost unnoticed from the predictable chaos that is my life to the little town of Forks, Washington and into the enchanting and irresistible existence of the Cullens--a coven of vampires, and their long-haired neighbors/sworn enemies--the legendary werewolves of La Push.
Within my diversion I could visualize the Cullen's white house deep within the forest, I could see Edward's crooked smile and feel his icy touch. I could relate to Bella's conflicted pain as she attempted to maneuver her way through the maze of addled feelings she had for Jacob.

I found myself making frequent references to "imprinting," "Volturi," and "newborn vampire" like they were relevant to my everyday life. Discussions with friends were focused solely on the actions of our beloved vampires, and their immortal destinies.

As I made my way through each captivating chapter I found myself wondering at times why I was so enthralled by this novel series. I tend to gravitate toward "good literature." I enjoy books that are well written and life changing. I appreciate historical novels, and love a challenging book that tests my knowledge and expands my literary boundaries. But I am absolutely smitten (obsessed) with the Twilight series. I know that these books would be ripped to shreds in an English Lit class, and they bear no relevance to the real world, but they are fun...and entertaining...and addictive. They provide a respite from kids and cleaning, grocery shopping and carpooling. With an open mind and a little imagination even the most intellectual, astute reader may just find themselves wishing--even THIRSTING--(see there I go again with the lingo) to become a beautiful, indestructible immortal creature (aka...vampire!!).

Stehanie's heroic act number two in my mind is her success story. Five years ago Stephanie Meyer was just like us...stay-at-home LDS mom with three kids, lots of laundry and endless meals to fix. She never planned to become a writer--it just happened--literally overnight as she dreamt about Edward and Bella and their complicated and dangerous love affair. She is now a highly acclaimed author, compared to the likes of ...J.K. Rowling...!

I believe her story should serve as a motivating factor to all of us who love to express our thoughts and ideas through writing. Who knows who will come up with the next intriguing story to lure legions of fans into a fictional world derived from pure imagination, perseverance and tenacity...(personally, my money's on Brooke...)

I have a half-baked novel that has been rolling around in my head for ages that someday...sigh...I hope to put actual words to. I wouldn't expect overwhelming fortune as experienced by Miss Stephanie, but just a bit of recognition would be so sweet.

So...Read on...Write frequently...Dream big. There you go.

All things American Idol

2008-07-20T12:39:00.000-07:00

It is a time honored tradition...Mothers passing down treasured skills and diversions to their daughters...a legacy, if you will. Pursuits enjoyed by a mother and instilled into her daughters that will shape and influence them as they grow and mature.

I am pleased to say that I have passed on a significant legacy to my girls. One that they have embraced with the same level of enthusiasm (obsession) that I have. Is it a traditional legacy? One that involves a love of cooking, sewing, or gardening, perhaps? Absolutely not...I have introduced my children to the love of all things AMERICAN IDOL.

I have taught my girls that though the audition shows are funny, they do not represent the true spirit of American Idol. The show really begins when the top twelve contestants have emerged. From that point on all press and personal stories relating to the AI finalists become top priority. Any magazine that bears their pictures, or news story that mentions their names must be saved and/or recorded. Favorites must be picked early on so that a personal, emotional connection can be made (this is very necessary even though it can lead to heartbreak if your fave gets voted off early).

American Idol begins in January, top twelve begin competing mid-March. By the end of April, Fox reveals the summer tour schedule (we knew SLC would be a definite stop--with David Archuleta leading the way!). Our tickets were purchased before the finale even aired, and though we were saddened to see our David come in second we reveled in the thoughts of seeing all of the idols live in July!

We counted down the days until July 15th, maintaining focus on the most important day of our summer. The girls held strong, discussing AI in one aspect or another every single day.
(As a mom, I teach, I mold, I strive to set a good example. In the end...it all comes down to one distinct event--THE CONCERT!)

Here we go...
Concert day arrived and it was a flurry of activity as we prepared for the ultimate "girls night out." My girls and I joined Jennie and her girls, Rachelle and hers, as well as Chris and Cami. We arrived at the E-Center giddy with anticipation, the girls in outfits that matched their friends', all of us with David Archuleta, and Brooke White on our minds. We made our way to seats on the floor, not too far from the stage itself. As the concert began, and I bounced to my feet, screaming at the top of my lungs, I looked over at my girls who were standing on top of their chairs shrieking and clapping their hands together, and realized (with a grateful heart, and a tear in my eye) that they had truly reached an admirable level of crazed AI mania! I watched proudly as they rushed the stage, avoiding the scrutinous glare of the security guards, and declared their love in deafening shrieks for certain rockers (Michael Johns, David Cook) and crooners (that would be David A.). My girls were in top form...they certainly did not disappoint...it was a sensational evening (as well as a killer concert!)!

Carly Smithson! This girl can sing! And she is absolutely delightful!

Brooke White! She is gorgeous, very funny and genuine! (fabulous singer as well!)

Jason Castro! So much better in person than on TV! Loved him!

Syesha Mercado! Beautiful...and so very very talented!!!

David Archuleta! Our boy is incredible! Such an amazing voice, and so humble! He wiped away tears as he sang...and so did we! We love you, David!

David Cook! Our American Idol! He deserved to win...he is fabulous!

I spotted Justin Guarini (second place, first season of AI) at the concert! I was a little star struck (to say the least), but held it together enough to walk right up to him and say hello! (he is a cutie!)

After the show our entire group gathered near the inconspicuous exit where the idols delighted the frenzied crowd with autograph signing and pictures. And...in an attempt to squeeze as much out of this American Idol experience as possible, we returned the next day for more precious autographs and photo opportunities...
Four hours, ninety-five degrees, sweltering sun, scorching hot MICHAEL JOHNS!

Cute Brooke...

The kids with Kristy Lee...very pretty girl...

...and Chikezie...Cami's favorite! He hugged every single one of us!

...and Jason Castro...loved his outfit...loved his eyes...mmmmmmm

...and Michael...need I say more?

...HELLO!!!!!!

This is my life...this is my legacy...this is AMERICAN IDOL!!!!

Happy (belated) 4th of July!

2008-07-13T14:14:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we made our annual, (very highly anticipated) trek down to Scofield for the 4th of July weekend. Although we suffered a few mishaps and missteps we managed to pull together a spectacular weekend!
Highlights included:
--Grandpa Louis and Grandma Jo...youthful and sassy at 87 and 77 respectively, Grandpa and Grandma are an inspiration and a riot to be with. Grandpa was able to oversee a toilet repair without blinking an eye, and Grandma revealed all the latest fashion trends in Price this year. They are special and unique and I cherish every moment with them!
--wave runners...they sunk before our eyes as the menfolk realized they forgot to put the plugs in before setting them out to sea (I mean lake!)! As luck would have it there just happened to be a wave runner fixer (???? not sure the exact job title) also vacationing at Scofield, and he had them running again before we knew it!
--Zach and Erika...first time at Scofield as a couple. They are in LUUUUVVV! We think Erika is the best, and it is awesome to see my little brother so incredibly happy!
--Pleasant Valley Days parade...our annual tradition was a hit this year as we presented the Scofield Monster Expedition! Pictures below will show the boat decorated as if on the lake and filled with kids posing as expeditioners looking for the legendary "Scofield Monster." The monster was Lexi's idea and my undertaking. I take credit for making the ridiculous, (I mean really fun) monster because I don't ever make anything! I was rather proud of our parade entry and even though we didn't win a prize we were definitely a crowd favorite and the kids had a blast!
--Boating...out on the lake for hours, everyone taking their turn at tubing or wake boarding. The kids are never deterred by the chilling water as they fight about who gets to go next!
--Braxton...he is always a highlight of anything we do! He loved the boat, the tube and the sand!
--Baileys...the beautiful people! We love our gorgeous relatives, we just wish they would put on a few pounds so we wouldn't feel so gargantuan around them...
--Sitting around the fire at night...roasting marshmallows, inhaling gooey smores, and watching Scott let off illegal fireworks (I was so afraid he was going to get caught that I had my "I told you that was not a good idea..." speech all prepared). Luckily the Scofield police had more pressing matters to deal with and did not end our law breaking fun!
--Family...of course! We love to be together! We work hard, we laugh a lot, and we love each other like crazy!

THE PARADE!!!

BOATING FUN!!!

ROO, YOU ROCK!!!

A perfect summer evening...

2008-07-10T08:32:00.000-07:00

I experienced a little smidgen of paradise last night. Not the kind of paradise that involves tropical islands, palm trees or crystal clear turquoise colored water, but the paradise that is a calm summer evening without commitments or schedules. An evening where pjs are on by 7, hair is damp from showering late, and there is no makeup to remove at bedtime...

We spent the entire afternoon swimming at Chris's pool. The kids played with cousins and friends, and I got to sit in the sun and visit with my sisters and BFF, Jenn.
We finally pulled the kids out of the pool at about 6:40 and made our way home. I decided along the way that this was going to be a "perfect summer evening..." We picked up Fazoli's for dinner because there is absolutely no cooking on a perfect summer evening.

After dinner the kids suddenly disappeared. I looked out the back window and saw them playing football...all of them...together...
Scott was out on a ride and I realized--"I have the house to myself!"

I wasn't sure what to do at first, this perfect summer evening had suddenly become even better! I knew I had to remain calm, to think clearly so as to not waste one little bit of this personal paradise.
I realized it was Wednesday night...So You Think You Can Dance...!!!
I snuck an otter pop from the outside freezer, plopped down on the couch, put my feet up on the ottoman and watched Chelsea, Twitch and Co. hip hop and tango their way across my TV! That lazy, hypnotic feeling you get from lounging in the sun all day was setting in... There is no place we have to be...the kids can stay up late...my favorite show is on... I had exactly thirty minutes of tranquility before the players tumbled through the door asking for snow cones.

Although I was no longer alone, my perfect summer evening continued as my kids sank into the couch beside me drained from their afternoon of swimming and after dinner game of ball. We discussed the dance routines and made plans for the next day.
Just as things were winding down toward bedtime...the doorbell rang...NIGHT GAMES! PLEASE MOM!? They begged to join their friends on the streets of the neighborhood playing games and running from house to house--their laughter echoing from darkened doorways. I consented of course--these perfect summer evenings will soon turn into...oh I can't even say it...these perfect summer evenings will not be here forever! We have to enjoy them while we can...

Bad Hair Day

2008-07-07T16:45:00.001-07:00

My dog, Danny, is truly special.
He is almost like one of my kids with just a few exceptions...he is ALWAYS thrilled to see me (even if I've only been gone for twelve minutes), he never slams doors, and I have never once heard him say "FINE!"
He is the epitome of uncondional love, he is super loyal and very protective in his itty-bitty, yip-yappy way. He is playful and smart and has an affinity for little beams or reflections of light...

Danny is a handsome dog with fluffy white tufts of fur that feel like cotton balls.
My practically perfect pup does not shed, so he requires grooming once every four months or so.
Well...Scott decided one day that rather than take Danny to the (very capable, experienced) groomers, he would purchase some clippers and shave Danny himself (hmmmmm...).
The kids and I were at Lagoon one evening and by the time we arrived home...my Danny's downy coat had been whittled (by a well-meaning but slighty over-confident husband) to little more than a sparse covering of very fine fur over his now emphasized scrawny little frame!
My poor baby!

"The Ring Bear"

2008-06-29T19:53:00.000-07:00

Cherie's (Scott's sis) son Josh was married last week and he and his bride asked Luke to be their ring bearer. At first Luke said "no way!" to this task which we explained would involve simply walking down the aisle carrying the wedding rings. He had every excuse from "I'm afraid I'll fall..." and "I won't know where to go..." to "I don't want people LOOKING at me!" We explained to him the importance of the ring bearer--there must be a handsome boy to carry the rings to the bride and groom in order for them to actually, officially be married (sidenote here...lots of discussion about the differences between a temple sealing and a civil ceremony--steadfast goals are in place in our home for temple marraige someday, but we are so happy for Josh and want his day to be splendid)... Luke mulled over this ever important decision for two and a half days and finally came to the conclusion that he really wanted Josh and Michelle to be able to wed, so he would indeed deliver their precious rings on the day of their wedding. From that time on he became "the ring bear..." "kind of like the Jazz bear," he said..."but with rings..."
Luke anticipated his big day with mixed emotions. Usually those emotions were directly related to the amount of sleep he had the night before. Tired days turned out "I am NOT going to be the ring bear," but when well-rested he was quite positive and looked forward to the wedding day with questions like "will I get paid for being the ring bear?" We did have enough tired days that I had to throw in a little incentive to ensure follow-through and cooperation...a Kung Fu Panda sword awaited his greatly anticipated walk down the aisle.
Wedding day arrived and we made it special with a new haircut and tie for the big event.
The wedding was held at Market Street and the setting was beautiful! I pointed out the fast-moving creek below us at least twelve times to keep my little guy's mind occupied and away from thoughts of deserting...
Luke was a jumble of nerves twinged with just enough excitement to warrant two trips to the bathroom in seven minutes...
As we waited for the ceremony to begin, I found myself anxiously holding my breath, smiling at Luke without making direct eye contact for fear he would discern my sense of apprehension and change his mind...
To my surprise and great relief, he posed perfectly for pictures and listened intently to the wedding coordinator's instructions.
(This just might go ok...)
The ring pillow was delivered and though Luke thought it would somehow resemble a bear...he was pretty impressed that something so elegant would be in his charge.
The wedding was due to begin in three minutes when the wedding coordinator took Luke by the hand and led him to his place in line without any hesitation or apprehension--at all.
(This (really) just might go ok...!!!)

The music began and the wedding party passed without much notice as I waited for the pair who would precede the bride--the flower girl and her escort--the "ring bear..."
At last it was the moment we had waited for...Luke sauntered down the aisle looking so serious and handsome in his shirt and tie with an orange rose boutonniere pinned to his pocket and a look of confidence on his face. He made his way to the best man--hoisted the pillow perfectly then returned to his seat next to me. He never cracked a smile, but he didn't miss a step...

(It (actually) went ok...!!!)

Accolades and praise followed him wherever he made his way the entire night and he reveled in the glory of attention by strangers, friends and family members.

What a terrific experience...both for a five year old little boy and his needlessly doubtful mother!

Vacation

2008-06-29T13:48:00.000-07:00

I have a friend who has spent the past two weeks with her family in Thailand...another friend is in Africa for three weeks. I know two couples who have gone to New York this summer...

We finished off our basement this past winter/spring, therefore any plans of fancy vacations for us are buried beneath the flooring in the kitchen and between fibers in the carpet that covers the concrete floor.

Our vacation fund may have been spent on drywall and light fixtures, but we were still able to squeeze out a quick jaunt down south to St. George. Every year we take two trips to St. George--one over memorial weekend (aka hotel St. George) and a random week during the summer where we get to live in luxury at the England house (aka house St. George). House always trumps hotel... We swim, we bake in the sun, swim some more, we go to Pizza Factory, bake some more, throw in some golf, laser tag, more swimming, a movie, and an outdoor show at Tuacahn (this year we saw Sound of Music--it was superb!) Best part of house St. George, however, is the fact that our entire family (grandpa, grandma, aunts, uncles and cousins) all live for an entire week under the same roof! I truly believe that we could vacation down the street and love every minute of it as long as the whole fam came along!

He just might land in New York...

COUSINS COUSINS COUSINS COUSINS COUSINS COUSINS

My family...

Love my sistas!!!

...and my little bro!

The kids got to meet Gretl, Maria and Capt. Von Trapp from The Sound of Music

Maybe next year...St. George and then Africa?!?! HA!

Random Bits

2008-06-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

The second to last week of school was "Spirit Week." Each day the kids got to dress up in different garb to go along with a daily theme. Cute concept--bad timing. I lose my motivation and creativity by early May, so all projects and activities after that time are done very begrudgingly by a very burned out mom.
First day of Spirit Week was Hawaiian day...Jaycee went off to school wearing flip flops and a plastic yellow lei. Day two, nerd day--we just skipped that one. Super hero day was fun--we wrapped aluminum foil around Jaycee's wrists and threw Luke's superman cape over her shoulders--I thought that one was sort of creative...Jaycee disagreed after school as she told me about her friend's cat woman get-up and a wonder woman who wore red white and blue and over-sized silver bracelets on her wrists...
Our last innovative attempt was on crazy hair day. We twisted little sections of Jaycee's hair and wrapped them tight with miniature elastics. The next morning we released the twists and WALLAH!!! She was super happy and had the craziest hair in the whole class!

Lexi and Jaycee both take voice lessons. Lexi has been taking for three years, Jaycee for one. They recently had their spring recital which will be their final vocal performance for a while because Lexi is quitting to focus on tennis and Jaycee just can't take the strict direction voice lessons entail...there is no such thing as "creative criticism" in her mind...
They both did a fabulous job, Lexi taking on Colbie Caillat's "Bubbly" and Jaycee singing the upbeat Miley Cyrus tune "Old Blue Jeans." After the vocal renditions we went out for ice cream with the Smiths and the Woolleys. We have so many kids between the three families we filled Maggie Moos to the brink with yummy ice cream eating youngsters!
Best buds and blue bubblegum...doesn't get any better than that!

(Crazy teenagers!!!)

Summer vacation is finally and officially underway! Two of our favorite warm weather activities are Lagoon and swimming. Both of which have been postponed over the past couple of weeks due to fifty-eight degree rainy weather...But now we're in the nineties, and living it up riding the Bat, Tidal Wave and Wicked, and splish splashing in Chris's splendid swimming pool!

Oh happy day!

2008-06-04T10:26:00.000-07:00

See Roo. See Roo jump up and down with joy. Hear Roo. Hear Roo giggling with glee. Why is Roo so happy? Roo just completed her final day of elementary school!!!

This is an especially happy day because this has been a bit of a tough year for Kelsey. We moved last year at about this same time, and with that move came a new school. We contemplated keeping Kelsey at her previous school for sixth grade, but decided--together--to make a complete change and finish out her elementary days at the new neighborhood school. The year started off well. Kelsey had a great attitude, and was determined to make the most of being "the new girl." She ran for student council and applied for safety patrol, both of which she made. She had a great teacher whom she liked and related to from the start. Unfortunately, there were no familiar kids in her class from our neighborhood, but she met at least one new friend on the very first day. We were breathing easy, feeling secure in our decision and I was letting go of some of the guilt I had been harboring over taking Kelsey away from her school andthe friends she had grown up with.
As the year progressed Kelsey had some trouble fitting in. The kids at school had been classmates since they were young. They had established very tight knit groups a long time ago that were very reminiscent of the group of friends Kelsey had had at her previous school. She learned that it's not easy infiltrating a posse of girls that have known each other for several years! The girls were not mean, just indifferent to one that was not part of their group. By mid-year I noticed that Kelsey was kind of changing her attitude and mindset. She started counting down the days til the end of the year when her status as the "new girl" would officially end and she would join her group of friends from our old neighborhood for middle school. I saw her biding her time, patiently waiting for the days to pass until she could claim her precious place as the member of a "girl group." Kelsey is a sweetheart. She rarely complains, and makes the most of every situation she is in. She did no less this year. At times my heart would break when I would watch her in her classroom--interfacing with some of the kids, without really interacting with them. We talked about her situation, but she did not seem terribly troubled by it. I found myself joining her in her countdown, encouraging her to hang-in-there and reassuring her that next year will be different. Maybe this was not the right thing to do... Maybe I should have encouraged her to pursue more friendships and not wish away her sixth grade year...but I didn't. I understood how she was feeling and I have faith in the darling group of friends she will be rejoining in the fall that they will welcome her with open arms.
So today the school year is over. Kelsey walked in the door with a humongous smile on her face, handed me her excellent report card, deposited her stack of awards and projects on the table and just sighed...

See mom. See mom smile with joy. Hear mom. Hear mom giggling with her girls as they tell stories of their final day of school. Why is mom so happy? Mom just watched her girl make it through a tough year and come out grinning!

Thou shalt not covet...except...

2008-05-29T13:15:00.000-07:00

In the Bible it clearly states that one should not covet those things which his neighbor possesses. It is a sin, actually, to peer out your window or over your fence at the neighbor's 3/4 acre lot (complete with immaculate landscaping, a basketball court and fire pit), and wish that it belonged to you rather than them...
I can avoid coveting what those around me have. I am grateful for my blessings, and do not look at my neighbors with jealousy or longing.
With that being said, I don't believe there are any rules against coveting things that one's SISTER has.
My sister, Chris, leads a charmed life. She has exceptional children, a husband who supports her with steadfast commitment, a beautiful home (decorated to the hilt, as well as speckless, spotless and squeaky clean), and a zany sense of humor--making her the consistent favorite of any group or gathering.
I have always been happy for Chris. Pleased with her successes, proud of her accomplishments, the first to laugh at her comedic acts...
But over the past year and a half her life has become one that I envy almost on a daily basis.

First of all, almost a year and a half ago Chris and Jason adopted a gorgeous little brown baby boy named Braxton. The entire adoption process was an amazing spiritual journey unmatched by anything I have ever experienced in my life time. This scrumptious little brown sugar lovebug is a superstar in our family. He mesmerizes adults and children alike with every move that he makes and every "uuuhhh!" that he utters from his perfectly plump little brown lips. I love everything about him, and, truth be told, I wish I could have him!

Apparently having the most enchanting child on the planet isn't enough for my sister. A few months ago she and Jas put a beautiful swimming pool in their (already) exquisite backyard! She can walk out her back door, take three steps to a lounge chair and be tanning by 9:30am! No more public pools! No more lines to stand in, no foul bacterial infections to catch from leaky swim diapers, no pregnant women in bikinis or obscene tatoos to keep the kids from gawking at...
So, within a year and a half Chris has both a brown baby AND a swimming pool--how can one not be insanely jealous over such precious assets?
There is silver lining to my little green cloud, however...Chris is willing to share!
I may forever covet what she has, but at least I get my turns babysitting and lots of invites to the pool!

"Reunited...and it feels so good"

2008-05-26T18:33:00.000-07:00

We spent memorial weekend in St. George. Every year we gather with relatives from my mom's side of the family to reunite and reacquaint as we usually only see each other once a year. This reunion has been held annually for the past thirty-nine years, and although we have missed a few here and there, for the most part our holiday weekend in May is spent at a lovely hotel in Dixie surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins---two, three and four times removed.
Growing up, I loved the reunion. To me it signaled the onset of summer. It has always been held in St. George, and every year we would swim to exhaustion and sunburn to the point of immobility. My sisters and I had crushes on our good looking older cousins and would giggle whenever they would throw us in the pool. We loved it when they included us in their night games of tag and hide-n-seek around the hotel complex. I loved watching my mom laugh and visit until unheard of hours of the night with her sisters, aunts and cousins...
Now my kids enjoy this family tradition every bit as much as I did. To them it signals the onset of summer. They swim to exhaustion, but thanks to spray-on sunscreen they don't have to experience that seared skin feeling. They love playing with their cousins, although it's the ones they see several times a week that they run around with. They love it when I sit out at the pool until unheard of hours of the night laughing with my sisters, aunts, and cousins...
This year was unseasonably cool in St. George. As we drove south through Beaver the temperature gauge said 36 degrees, and there were tiny snowflakes falling on our car. The weather did not deter us, however, thanks to resilient and determined kids, (a heated swimming pool and thick, snugly blankets), our yearly traditions were upheld! So much fun!!!

I am a mother

2008-05-15T13:22:00.000-07:00

I used to dislike mother's day. I always felt like it should be this momentous occasion on which I was honored and revered by my family. I had visions each year of perfectly behaved children catering to my every need and a husband tripping over the perfect children to fawn over the mother of the little angels he just tripped over...
Well, it took a few years to realize that my fantasy was just that--a fantasy--one that would never materialize into anything more than a lovely illusion in my mind. On mother's day one still has to be a mother--and being a mother does not involve anything resembling catering or fawning. I decided a few years ago to stop relying on everyone else to make my mother's day memorable, and to take control of the day, and the whole weekend for that matter and make it my own. I have to say, since taking a proactive approach to the second weekend in May I have learned to love mother's day and everything that goes along with it!

My weekend began with an early rising and a trip down to Gateway for Race For the Cure. Jennie, Rachelle and I have been doing this race since 2001, and it has become a cherished yearly tradition. The race benefits the prevention and treatment of breast cancer, and involves several thousand participants. All around us are women of all ages wearing pink hats and t-shirts identifying them as breast cancer survivors. There are many who appear to be younger than me, pushing babies in strollers, wearing scarves to cover the more obvious signs of chemo. It is an inspiring and very humbling experience.

(We took the race slowly this year--walking at a leisurely pace due to my zero energy issue. This is a change for us as we usually run the race...very fast...typically in a sprinting fashion...)

(We are part of a team called "Vals Pals." Each year we race in memory of our dear friend Valerie Ruff who passed away from breast cancer two years ago.)

(Another vital part of our yearly tradition is treating ourselves to lunch, a chick flick and loads of shopping!)

Mother's Day itself began as every Sunday morning does...chaotic and ridiculous as I rush around from room to room attempting to feel the spirit of the Sabbath but instead feeling only intense rage as shouts of I AM NOT WEARING THIS! and MY HAIR LOOKS AWWWWFUL! resonate through the house.

Church was awesome...

The remainder of my mother's day consisted of little hugs from my hubby and kids, scrubbing potatoes for dinner, receiving several fabulous gifts (self portraits, a poem, a plate, money!!! lots of cards and artwork) from my perfectly behaved children (oh, wait a second, that was the fantasy...) and their daddy. Luke gave me a card that said..."I am happy when my mom...turns on the TV for me,"(stellar mothering skills at work in my home!) and spending almost an hour chatting with the missionaries (I thought they would give us a five minute thought and be on their way--nope--) My family arrived at five for dinner--Chris, Cami and I always treat our incredible mother to dinner on mother's day. This is a highlight for us as it gives us a chance to do a little something for our wonderful mom who does so very much for us.
We rounded out the day with a lovely visit with Scott's parents, sister and fam.

I used to dislike mother's day. Now I love it. I love the traditions, the homemade gifts with little signatures forever preserved, even the chaos is a little easier to take because it defines my greatest role--the one I celebrate each May--I am a mother, this is my life, and I love it!

Getting my Ducks in a Row

2008-05-07T15:18:00.000-07:00

I have never been much of an animal lover. I adore my dog, Danny, but that adoration is the end result of a very heart wrenching experience I had last summer caring for and then ultimately losing a very sick little puppy. That story is one to be told at a later date. Today I have other animals to discuss. More specifically, ducks...We are now the owners of five little fuzzy, messy, squeaky ducklings. We became the owners of these little webbed feet wonders yesterday afternoon after they fell into our window well and were abandoned by their mother and siblings. They were discovered by our next door neighbors, and by the time I arrived on the scene of the rescue, my kids had them named.
I immediately called Jennie. She is the proud owner of ten little chicks (she actually bought them, they weren't just left in her window well by an irresponsible mother...) "Jen, how do I take care of ducks?"
Jennie is an angel...and much more of an animal lover than I am...she was so enthusiastic and excited about our new additions that it almost made me feel a little bit fortunate for this opportunity...nah...I really don't want them! She knew exactly where to go and what to do to care for these silly little creatures who walk in circles and over the tops of one another in their pursuit of a drink of water or a bounce out of their confining new home. I went to IFA as Jennie suggested and inquired about duck supplies. The little guy who helped me was just as thrilled about my new pets as Jennie was--am I the only cold-hearted person who would like to just take a trip to Sugarhouse Park and put these ducklings up for adoption? He gathered all of the supplies I would need to create a dry, comfortable and safe home for Afflack, Skywalker, David Archuleta, Brooke White, and Laylo. Sixty-five dollars and one fifty pound bag of dry turkey feed later...our babies have a home!

My kids are are all atingle. They think I am the greatest mom on the planet because I let them keep the ducks. Jennie told me they would always remember this experience and I know she's right. It's just a small sacrifice for the joy of my kids--right? I just sort of wish it didn't have to involve animals!!

Mommy Idol

2008-05-01T07:36:00.000-07:00

Last night I was lying down on the bottom bunk in Jaycee's room. We tend to play musical beds in our home, and on this particular evening Luke was going to sleep in Jaycee's room. As I was waiting for him to get in his PJs and choose a story to read I took a good look around Jaycee's room. It is a cute room with lime green walls and a hot pink ceiling. The color scheme is composed of bright pastels and there are several items with sequins and feathers adding just the right eight-year-old-little-girl accent. Hanging on her walls are several posters of Hannah Montana. Tonight, however, I noticed that she has added to her wall decor. Along with Miss Cyrus she has also hung pictures of her favorite American Idols. Number one in Jaycee's heart is Brooke White, the darling blonde-haired gal from Arizona. She has several pictures of Brooke arranged in a collage with "I love you Brooke" scrawled across the bottom. Next to Brooke is Jaycee's number two pick David Archuleta. She has numerous pictures printed from the internet of my personal fave from AI. Though she adores David, she neglected to write anything about loving him. Although an amazing talent, he is still a boy, and we just don't love boys right now--ya know?
Right next to the pictures of her musical idols is a photo taken with our own camera and enlarged to an 8x10. It is a picture of me! Jaycee placed little heart stickers around my head and wrote "I love my mommy!" right on the picture! Talk about a little boost to my mom-esteem! I love it! Anytime one is put in the wall-adorning company of the biggest pop sensation in the world and the stars of the most watched TV show in the country that is a very good thing!

I guess this means that I should just ignore the comment Jaycee made earlier that day about me being the "meanest mom in the whole world" because I won't buy her pet chickens!

Yeah Baby!

2008-04-27T13:25:00.000-07:00

This is Scott, my husband of nearly 18 years. Scott is a shaved head, soul patch wearing, motorcycle-riding kind of guy. He has a customized Harley--emblazoned with black and blue skulls, flames, and the shiniest rims you've ever seen on the road. He rides with his black leathers also adorned with skulls and an attitude that has "bad you-know-what" written all over it.
(necessary side note here...)Scott looks tough on the outside, but he is very kind and loving on the inside. Sometimes those who know him well chuckle at the sight of him and his beloved bike. It's so him, and yet it's not, at the same time!

Say what you will, Scott is a "take control" kind of guy, and is not easily intimidated. He just DEALS with things--sometimes so I don't have to, and I love that! I always feel very safe and secure around him--a comfortable place to be.

Last week Scott had to go to the hospital for a GED. Aka a GI endoscopy. Aka a tube that goes down your throat to examine the lining of the esophagus and stomach.
Due to the fact that the tube is about the diameter of a garden hose, patients are sedated quite heavily for this procedure. This is where my fun begins...

After the procedure was complete they wheeled Scott into the little room where I was waiting. When I saw him my initial reaction was one of concern and uneasiness. My super tough husband appeared so vulnerable and helpless, lying on a mobile hospital bed, an IV in his arm, oxygen in his nose, and a noisy monitor beeping incessantly-- reminding him to take deep breaths. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I walked over to the side of his bed, "Hi Hun," I said, "How are you feeling?" Scott turned to look at me and that's when I lost it...oh no, I didn't cry, I started laughing...Scott looked at me with eyes the size of salad plates, no sign of recognition on his face..."I grummmmmeddd nellll of the roooop," he said. Then he was out. His procedure went well, and there was no sign of anything serious, so it was all about the post-anesthesia chit chat now. I had to work on waking him up and keeping him breathing, so I was asking him all sorts of questions. Most of these he would respond to with an enthusiastic "Yeah Baby!" Channeling ones inner Austin Powers is apparently a side effect of those amnesic drugs. He kept telling the same story over and over and over again, and asked what time it was about fifteen times. He would open his eyes really wide and say "Okay! I'm awake now!" Then his head would fall back onto the pillow or against the wall and he would start snoring like crazy. Unfortunately, every time I would bring up money...as in...can have a little extra?...he would suddenly become very lucid as he would explain details of our current financial situation including our agreement to cut back on spending... followed by "yeah baby!" and then he was out again. What is it with men and money?

Scott recuperated fairly quickly from the mind numbing effects of the fabulous meds he was given at the hospital. However, he describes the whole evening as "a bit of a blur." I may just use that blurriness to my advantage in the future...

Although I had my fun listening to his silly rantings and watching his exaggerated reactions, I must admit that I was relieved when he returned to his normal, calm, levelheaded, problem-solving, lovable tough-guy self again!

Thank Heavens for Hannah!

2008-04-22T08:17:00.000-07:00

"Opposites attract," "No two snowflakes are alike," Walking to the beat of a different drum..." What is that old adage? Oh yeah, I remember..."Two children of the same parents are sometimes so completely different in every way it makes you wonder about that whole DNA theory."

Meet Kelsey and Jaycee. My middle children who seem to defy the odds of similarity although they belong to the same family, have been raised with the same influences, and are less than two and a half years apart in age.
Kelsey (aka "Roo") is a tomboy through and through. She loves sports and sweatshirts, hats and bandannas. When she is not playing tennis, she loves to roller blade, skateboard and ride her bike--her very sleek, dark blue dirt bike.
Jaycee, on the other hand is a girly-girl through and through. She loves music and pink blouses, jewelery and makeup. When she is not doing gymnastics she loves to play with dolls, and Webkins. She will ride her bike if she has to--her lovely purple with silver appliques road bike.
Roo is very practical and even-tempered. Jaycee is...not.
Jaycee is very social and talkative. Roo is...not.
Roo is neat and organized. Jaycee is...not.
Jaycee is into all of the latest styles. Roo is...not.
I am begging Roo to wear just a little bit of clear lipgloss.
Jaycee is begging me to let her wear just a little bit of blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and bright pink lipstick.
Roo will not be caught dead in anything pink with lace, ruffles, sparkles or bows. Jaycee will not be caught dead in anything un-pink without lace, ruffles, sparkles or bows.
Jaycee is a drama queen.
Roo is a peacemaker.
Jaycee loves Hannah Montana.
Roo...LOVES HANNAH MONTANA TOO!!!
Well, what do you know! These two have something in common after all! Miley Cyrus adorns their walls, blares from their cd players and embellishes their clothing. Both of my girls were shrieking in unison to the acoustic booming of the Hannah Montana concert last fall. One difference stands out though...
Roo wants to SEE Hannah Montana.
Jaycee wants to BE Hannah Montana!
Well, what would we do with more than one pop star in the family anyway?

A Saturday Morning

2008-04-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago Luke got a new bike. He was so anxious for me to watch him ride that he coaxed me outside at 9am on Saturday morning. Still wearing my PJs and hiding behind a pair of big sunglasses I watched him ride around and around and around our driveway. Suddenly he stopped, looking up at a tree we have next to our driveway. "Mom!" he said "We got a new tree! I love it! It has flowers on it!" Literally overnight our previously bare-branched tree had sprouted lovely little white blossoms. This little sign of a much anticipated spring season brought a smile to my face, but Luke's perception made me laugh out loud! So optimistic, so innocent, so positive...

Fast forward a couple of hours...Luke is back outside, enjoying his "new wheels," alone this time. Suddenly I hear him rush into the house and slam and lock the door. He attempts to tell me something very important as evidenced by the intense look of concern on his face and panting breath. "Calm down, I tell him, "What happened?" He composes himself enough to explain..."I was outside riding my bike and a car drove by. There was a man in the car and he SMILED AT ME! I came in the house because I know he was going to come back and kill me!"

Hmmmm...so much for that youthful optimism!!!

Luke Loves Life!

2008-04-14T12:56:00.000-07:00

Luke is a very happy little boy. He finds joy in the simplest things, and it takes little to elicit great enthusiasm for unexpected trips to the dollar store or McDonalds. Sure, he will often ask if we can go to Disneyland...tomorrow, but for the most part he is content with our routine--as long as we throw in a few of his "faves" along the way. Things such as filling up the bathtub really high and playing with his "guys," boats and torpedoes. Or a game with me. He loves to sit down on the floor and play the Memory Game, Connect Four, or his very favorite, Life. That's right, my five year old LOVES the game of Life. He always chooses to go to college, never misses a payday, his home purchases are modest and he very rarely goes into debt. Somehow he usually manages to end up with more money than I do in the end! They say there are many things we can learn from our children--I guess we never know what sort of lessons they will offer.

I wish I could be as content and pleased as my little boy! Although I may not love life as Luke does, I sure do love my Luke! I love the way he talks and the expressions he makes. I love that his favorite words are awesome (as in "that's so awwwwwesome!") and suck. (I will admit to a double standard here...when my girls say suck I tsk tsk, when Luke says it I snicker every time!) I love Luke's vast imagination, and the random statements he makes ("Mom, did you know the statue of liberty is taller than every building in the world?") I love how he loves his sisters his friends and his cousins. I especially love how he loves his dad...

Luke says he wants to be a lawyer when he grows up, but only, he says, if lawyers can live at home with their moms--that, right there, is what I love the most.

Journey to Hashimoto

2008-04-09T20:27:00.000-07:00

I've recently been on journey...one that began six weeks ago and is not at its end, but has begun is slow spiral to conclusion.
Six weeks ago I woke up, took a look in the mirror and was instantly drawn to an unusual area of swelling on the right side of my neck. Convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me I immediately pointed it out to Scott asking "does my neck look swollen to you?" His wide eyed expression and shocked response of "what IS that?" dashed all hopes of exaggeration on my part.
The doctor believed I had an unusual infection developing in my lymph nodes. He treated me with antibiotics but ordered a blood draw to check my thyroid levels "just in case." This very wise decision revealed that I had something very wrong going on with my thyroid. By the next afternoon I had an ultrasound done and an appointment with an ENT to discuss the multiple, large "masses" that had been discovered on my thyroid gland. At this point I was scared to death. I kept hearing things like "most likely noncancerous," followed by "but, if you're going to have cancer, thyroid cancer is the one to have." Apparently it's quite treatable. But if it's all the same, I would rather not have any sort of cancer at all, thank you very much!
I had to wait a full week for a biopsy, each day dealing with symptoms of hyperthyroidism like sweating, pounding heart, shakiness, shortness of breath, and and all sorts of other uncomfortable conditions. I had no idea the thyroid gland--this little butterfly-shaped nodule in my neck controlled so many body functions and could create such havoc with those functions!
The biopsy was an interesting experience. Not horrible, but very unnerving as I had to lie flat on my back, neck extended attempting to watch peripherally as they poked and prodded the swollen area of my neck with various needles. The best part of the procedure was at the end as I sat up shaky and exhausted from nervous anxiety and Scott says to me, "that wasn't bad at all!" I chuckled at his very man-like statement counting in my head the number of times I was going to be able to retell that one for a good laugh!
The next day I found out the results of the biopsy showed benign cysts that would just have to be watched and monitored over the next few months. I was beyond thrilled! So grateful for the positive outcome, as was my family. My dad cried when I told him, and so many others joined me in feeling overwhelmingly blessed and relieved. Little did I know my journey was not over here...
My symptoms worsened, even threatening a condition called thyroid storm. I started on medication, and began feeling better immediately (thank you Dr. McDreamy). I went in for some very fascinating nuclear medicine scans which involved drinking and injecting radioactive solutions! I told my kids I had super powers after I had my first radioactive study--they were quite impressed.
These tests combined with several more blood tests led my current doctor to diagnose me with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis (I have a hard time saying that without giggling! what a name!!!). Hashimoto's is an autoimmune thyroid disease, and I will never know why I got it. It can be treated with medications, and other than feeling tired and cold, I am now doing quite well.

This journey has taught me several things...
--I will never, ever take good health for granted again!
--I have the most supportive husband, family and friends in the entire world!
--I live in a wonderful ward where I have been watched over and taken care of immensely!
--When someone offers to bring in dinner never say no--it is a treat beyond all measure!
--Prayers are heard and answered!
--You have to laugh at serious things or you will spend your days in tears.
--Everybody knows someone with thyroid disease--it is far more common than I realized until I started telling every single person in my life what was going on with me (obviously not a private person!). I was able to learn a lot from what others have gone through.

Sweet Sixteen

2008-04-06T20:39:00.000-07:00

Today is Lexi's birthday. It is not her sixteenth birthday, it is her fourteenth, but her focus today and for the past three months has been that this is a milestone birthday because fourteen means only two more years until sixteen!!!
From the time Lexi was a baby she has always wanted to be older than what she was. She rolled over at less than two months, crawled at four, and walked at nine! I thought she was brilliant, but looking back I believe she was always looking ahead to that next step, patiently biding her time until developmentally and physically she had what it took to balance on those hands and knees, then pull herself up to toddle on two feet.
Lexi has the next eight years of her life planned out from the kind of car she wants to drive to the type of "school" job she wants to have. She knows where she wants to go to college and what she wants to study. Actually, now that I think about it, she has gone beyond eight years...She knows the type of man she wants to marry and how many kids she wants to have. She also has lots of ideas on how she is going to raise those kids and most of those are opposite of the way I do things (I try not to take that personally).
Luckily, Lexi's goals are guided by her steadfast values (thank you Young Women's program for having our back on that one. I just said tonight--for the 117th time--I would not want to raise teenagers alone! I need the reinforcement Young Women's provides on so many levels!).
So, I have this wonderful daughter who is outstanding in so many ways. She is goal oriented and driven, fabulous qualities for a young woman of fourteen to possess. My question is...how do I encourage those qualities, but also encourage her not to wish her life away? She believes that when her sixteenth birthday arrives, a magical world will open up and all her troubles will disappear. She will have the independence she has craved her entire life, she will be able to work and manage more than weekly allowance or babysitting money. She will be able to date and drive! I understand the appeal, but I also know of the challenges that are inevitably waiting for her. Just as that flight of stairs, and sharp corner on the kitchen cabinet created obstacles for her to overcome as an ambitious toddler, Lex will face temptations and pressures that will test her and complicate the path that she has so confidently laid out for herself. I believe that it is important to teach children what they need to know and then release them to the world to learn for themselves the hows and whys of this crazy life. I said I believe this--that doesn't mean I will be able to do it. I consider myself one of those "helicopter parents" you know, the kind that "hover." I try not to be--but it is in my nature. (Needless to say, I read Love and Logic three times--I just couldn't do it!)
I guess, for now, I'll just do my best to be positive and encouraging. Try not to scare her into reverting backwards with tales about mean managers, car accidents and boys who never call. And last, but not least, cherish those moments when she is happy being at the movies with the family, playing "ghost in the graveyard" with her siblings, and begging for sleepovers with her cousin AJ. Sixteen will be here before we know it, and I can only hope that what lies ahead after that will be as sweet as Lexi truly believes it will be.

"I'll never let go, Jack, I'll never let go!"

2008-04-04T16:57:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my first official blog post! I am so excited to enter this new techno form of journaling! I have been hesitant to start a blog simply because I talk so much that I figure anybody who knows me would never want to read what I have to say when they already hear it firsthand! But, I thought, what a fantastic way to record events and recount stories. When my kids do or say something adorable or hysterical I always say, "I'm going to write that down!" But I never do...now I will...nothing will be forgotten!
First things first, I must explain the title of my blog: NEVER LET GO. This phrase comes from my favorite movie of all time...Titanic. Rose realizes that in order for her to be saved from the icy waters of the ocean she must let go of Jack's frozen, dead hands (sniff!!) and alert the rescuers that she is still alive. Before she releases him to sink, lifeless, into the depths of the sea below (sob!!) she kisses his hands and makes a promise to "never let go." She goes on to live a happy and successful life, never letting go of the love she and Jack shared aboard the ill-fated ship (sigh...). Anyway, I adopted Rose's words for a far less romantic reason. Never let go typifies my personality. You see, I tend to be a bit obsessive about things, subjects, people, etc. Whereas most people may be "interested" in certain things, I obsess about them! Examples: Titanic--when that movie came out I made it my mission to find out everything there was to know not only about the making of the movie, the stars, etc., but also the actual historical events surrounding the real Titanic. Celebrities--Ben Affleck being number one (I became physically ill when I learned he was dating JLo!), Constantine, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Eric Bana, get the picture? Reality TV--it started with Survivor and now includes American Idol, Biggest Loser, etc, etc. TV shows--Lost, Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives--ask me ANYTHING about ANY of these shows--I will be able to tell you what you need to know. Let's see, what else? The Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyers, King Henry the VIII and his six wives (after reading and seeing The Other Boleyn Girl). Women's oppression by the Taliban in Afghanistan (A Thousand Splendid Suns inspired and sickened me.) Can't forget politics--I am a moderate Republican with huge soap boxes I just love to stand on and shout my views and opinions! Oh, and thyroid disease--that one hasn't been much fun but I've gleaned every bit of info I can from mythyroid.com.
I have to say it's not all about entertainment and research for me, however. There are many other things that I will "Never let go"...of... I am fiercely loyal. If I am your friend I will be your friend for life and will fight to the death for you. Same goes for my family--both my own immediate family and the one I grew up with. My faith and values are very dear to me. My house has to be clean or I go crazy! I like to think I encourage my kids, but truth be told, I obsess about whatever new activity they are involved in. Whether it be theater, soccer, or (our latest) tennis...I throw everything I have into the activity believing that my kids will be the most successful actor/soccer player/tennis player EVER!! I can count the number of jobs I have ever had on one hand and one finger! I do not like change, and when I have a good job--I keep it!
I'm sure there are many more examples that will become apparent over time. For now I will leave it with these! My goal is to post often, but I swear they won't all be so long!