Snowies

This week, I want to finish planting my flowers and change my sheets. I'd also love to wipe down all of the dirty door-frames. I hate dirty walls too. The great thing about summer is that the boys are always wanting to go to the snow cone shack down the street. Each week I write a list of jobs they can do to make money for a snowy.

It's perfect.

It usually takes a few days for them to make enough money for a large size. Tomorrow on the refrigerator will be a big fat list of jobs.

Have a fabulous week!

 

To Be...

In case you've wondered, I'm not dead or on vacation. I've been working on teaching skating and entertaining my boys. As this was the first month of summer, they have wanted to hang out with me more than usual. Before the novelty wore off, I decided to focus on them more than the blog for the last little while. I do love my boys. Especially when they leave me messages like this:

Though I thrive on compliments, this is the best one I've ever received. It makes my heart melt.

I will write more frequently. I promise. Really. No, seriously, I will. But every time I sit down at the computer, someone little appears at the door and says something like, "Hey Mom, will you take me to the tennis court?" or "Is it bad that a hot pocket is on fire in the microwave?" or "Will you take us swimming?" or my favorite, "Let's do something!" I am sure I didn't do this to my own mother when I was younger. I'm sure that when my mother looked over the vast expanse of summer on the first day of vacation she saw only blue skies ahead. I don't recall ever being naughty or demanding.

I've decided to stop waiting for a large chunk of time to update the blog and just take what I can get when I can get it. I've finally accepted that there will never be a large chunk, only microscopic morsels. After all, I believe that motherhood is all about survival--doing what works for you so you can get some sleep and maybe a little peace every so often. Though I've consumed about three hundred popsicles so far this summer, sleep and peace have been hard to come by. I find myself skimming Pottery Barn catalogs and rearranging furniture, some of the few things the kids will allow me to do that do not directly involve or benefit them. I suddenly want to rip up the carpet and knock down some walls. I find paint brushes in the closet and stroke them as I inhale the musty scent of old paint, smiling wickedly as I consider what project to tackle next. These are sure signs that I'm starting to lose it.

Silly Sam

Markus was invited by his friend Sam to go swimming, the penguins movie and to play for most of the day together. Cute little guys!

The Natural

{Tennis anyone?}

Turns out, Markus is a natural at tennis as well. Who knew? He is excited to go again tomorrow.

Happy People Are The Fizz

{Neighbors: Justin and James}

{Jump for joy!}

{Wrestling}

{Front flips}

{Smiles}

{Morgen invited his friend Alex over to spend the night. He ended up staying for four days!}

Happy people are the fizz

in the soda of life.

Summer 3 on 3

{Markus playing in the 3 on 3 summer hockey league this week}

{He loves to take it to "the office" (behind the net)}

{Markus has really caught on to skating with the puck}

{Markus = 1 on 3!}

I will try to remember my camera for some of Max's 3 on 3 next week.

Birthday's Galore

{Birthday lunch for my friend Shawna today}

“The way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is.

You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say eleven when they ask you. And you don’t even feel smart eleven, not until you’re almost twelve. That’s the way it is.” ~ Sandra Cisneros, “Eleven”

It’s birthday season —nine in the next two weeks, beginning with my Dad and Tanner's today. In preparation, I added scotch tape and wrapping paper to the running Walmart list on the fridge and I bought extra butter and powdered sugar at the grocery store last week. All the better to keep the birthday cake supply constant, you know. After the next two weeks, I anticipate that we will all be fatter, poorer, and, well, older.

Josslyn - age 3 with Ashley

I must admit that, although my own birthday is a fun excuse for requesting my favorite foods and a reprieve from dinner dishes, in actuality, it doesn’t mean much. Like many of you, I’m sure, I don’t really keep track of my age all that well. Maybe it’s a purposeful oversight on my part, or maybe it’s just that it doesn’t matter what the number is, but what the feeling is. I’ve always loved Sandra Cisneros’s short story “Eleven” in her book; Woman Hollering Creek. The narrator sums up birthdays and age for me perfectly:

“What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you are–underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.”

{Sheri and sleepy baby Connor}

{Cheerleaders: Nadalynn and Kailey}

{Sweet!}



{Summertime}



{Tanner with Emily before she goes to Europe for a whole month}

{Sierra packing to be a nanny for the next two weeks, the children that she takes care absolutely adore her and she loves them!}

{Casey's 16th birthday is on Monday}

Today, I anticipate feeling 20 after I complete my morning run (unless my knees start hurting again, in which case, I’ll probably feel 38). And when I reach for another cookie this afternoon, I may feel 9 and subconsciously look over my shoulder for my mother, who always had a third eye for which of her seven children were inhaling the fruits of her labors.

{Fun in the sun}



What about you? What age do you feel best fits you right now?



{Lara and Todd's sweet pool and patio were the site of today's festivities}



Lovin' it

[Max with his intermediate class]

[Max serving up some love!]

[Max and his Tennis Instructor, Andrea]

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Max has been loving tennis this week, after trying out the intermediate class for the past few days, his teacher asked him to stay after class tomorrow for the advanced class to see how he does. She was asking me what other sports he plays and when I told her she said that she could tell he was very athletic and that tennis is a great sport for him. He seems to agree, he has been watching Wimbledon every day this week on TV, and asking me to take him over to play every night, he's lovin' it.

Adventure

{Wolves}

{and Bears}

{Cub Scout Camp}

Markus left for his first cub scout camping adventure today. He loved it and said that he wishes they could go to each one of the camps every day for a whole week! Today they learned about Astronomy through Galaxy Quest and tomorrow it is off to the frontier adventures. He has waited so long to be able to go on these camping adventures, I remember when he was five, the cub master made him an honorary cub because he loved to participate in the pack meetings so much. Markus loves adventure and being outside, so cub scouts is a perfect fit.  

Aahh...Summer!

June is one of those perfect months.

The weather here is perfect. It is warm but not too hot, and cool enough for the windows to be wide open. Just the way I like it.

Tennis Shoes



Tennis Shoes



Max started tennis lessons today and loved it. It was pretty early this morning (for him in the summer!) but he set his alarm and jumped right out of bed. He was excited to get there on time. He took the beginner class but his instructor told him that tomorrow she is moving him to the intermediate class. He played a bunch of different games and told Markus all about it afterwards. Markus is going to try it out next week, he has cub scout camp for two of the days this week. He also wanted to sign up for the 4th of July kids run again this year. He wanted to go and start training tonight, so while Max had all-star practice I took him over to the park and he ran three 1/2 mile repeats, at 4:25, 4:15 and 4:08 on his first night! I couldn't believe it! He just kept getting faster each time he ran the course. He told me on the way to pick up Max that he wants to go over and run every night. By the time the race gets here he will probably be doing six minute miles - fast little guy!

I can't really tell if these pictures are any better than my old camera or not. What do you think?

Happy Father's Day

My dad and mom

I think my father at some point must have decided that his life wasn’t about to stop just because there were a bunch of pooping children in his life now, and he took hold of us and our mother, and took us along on his crazy ride.

He once decided that we, as a family, needed to see how it felt to drive all the way around America. It took us three years.

And although freeways were a mainstay of American culture by the 70′s, my father disliked them a lot. We drove all over the country on two lane roads, stopping at museums, exhibits of large driftwood, forty foot tall sculptures of Paul Bunyan. I’ve seen memorials to pancakes, the worlds largest antler sculpture, Harlem, and street lights shaped like Hershey's kisses.

Any child in their right mind goes through their life with the assumption that everyone else on earth is just like they are, so I never once wondered if my dad was the slightest bit — well — unique. I assumed children all across America were driving to ice skating shows and forging through the wilderness to cut down their own Christmas tree.

Only as an adult did I realize how lucky I really had been.

As a seventeen year old, going on a date for the first time, I wasn’t so pleased to have a father who greeted my date sitting at the kitchen table in his one-piecers and cleaning his gun. He laughed for three weeks at the terrorized look he got out of my date.

In college, just as I was realizing my childhood had indeed been rich and spontaneous rather than traumatic and strange, I heard stories of my father skimming the ground in his ultralight airplane that he had built himself in the garage, trying to hike to the top of Timpanagos just for kicks, writing brilliant and complex letters to his posterity, filling his garage with hundreds of shelves so he could store all of his food storage.

Now as I contemplate my life with my own children, I see it more clearly.

My dad rocks.

Happy Father’s Day, dad.

Tell me about your dad. Funny? Serious? Spontaneous? Crafty? Loud? Powerful? How has your dad shaped your life?

Skate Fest

A couple of my students competed today at the Skate Fest competition, but since I still only have my silly camera on my phone, this is the only photo I have to show for it. Oh, well. Annie skated great and took second in her very first competition and Amanda skated pretty well and placed second in her Preliminary division as well. It was such a beautiful day outside that in between the two events and the boys playing drop in hockey, I took them to the park and we had a picnic and they played for a couple of hours.

Live To Inspire

Brynn Barton was a humanitarian, a nurse, and a wonderful person. She was killed by a hit and run driver on Tuesday, June 7th. Two people who never knew her personally decided to have a bike ride in memory of her. Over 900 people showed up and this is a video of tonight's ride downtown made by her friend's dad.

Live to Inspire

Countless thanks to the organizers, participants and most importantly Brynn's family for letting us briefly share in the life of someone wonderful. I was talking to her father, he is a doctor in my doctor's practice and in our stake, during the ride and he said that Brynn would have loved to see everyone doing this. She was an inspirational girl who will be missed.

There is an account set up in her name at Wells Fargo if you would like to donate to the MS foundation on her behalf.

Alternate

Max found out that he is an alternate this year for the all-star team. He was a little disappointed and sad. When he was telling me about it he was trying so hard not to cry. His coach was nice and came over in person, to bring him his jersey and hat and to make sure that he knows he is still a part of the team, as far as the practices, the 4th of July parade, and the opening ceremonies for regionals, etc., go and that they are just fielding 12 players on the team so if anyone can't make it to a game he will get to play. I think that consoled him a little. He is an all-star to me.




My All-Star



12 Years

Ok, so this is not any old photograph. It's my kiddo's photograph. I can't believe he's already twelve and was ordained to the priesthood last week. He looks downright dapper in his new Sunday suit. The girls have already started calling. I think this is the one I'd like on the wall. What do you think? I need help!

Baby Sister

My sister Darlin ~ 1 year old

I was six when my youngest sister, Darlin, was born on this day. Because my mother brought her home the day she was born, I saw her when she was just hours old and watched my mother bundle her in a blanket, and hand her to me. When she cried her first soft cry, I fell in love on the spot. I couldn’t wait to hold her after home school was finished, so I could kiss the top of her head. As she grew, I babysat her, played with her, and sometimes toted her along to my friends’ houses. I wrote down in my journal every cute thing she said, delighted in her curls and her cornflower blue eyes and the way she toddled around the house with her arms in the air when she first learned to walk.

I was married when Darlin was thirteen. When Darlin was eighteen, my mother struggled with her testimony and my parents’ marriage; by the time Darlin was nineteen, my mother had stopped going to church, and so had Darlin and my second-youngest sister, Sheri, leaving me, my father, and two other siblings still active in the church. In the ensuing years, as I started my own family, I grieved over and worried about my mother and sisters’ church inactivity so much that I distanced myself and focused instead on my own growing family.

Yes, I had some spiritual maturing to do. But, I’ve grown to realize that she may never come back to church, and I will love her just the same. She teaches me more about unconditional love then anyone I know. My sister Sheri baptized her daughter Whitney two years ago, and I’ve learned to trust that the Lord guides us—myself included—through the twists and turns in our lives and that ultimately, He knows best. In the meantime, I pray for Darlin’s happiness, delight in her company, and love her deeply. I am so glad that she was born and I can't wait to go visit her again soon.