The Midnight Hunt: A Tale of Horror

We have something of a mouse problem this year. Not of the cute Mickey or Tom and Jerry variety...we have the beady-eyed, twitchy-tailed, squeaky, disease-carrying, run of the mill vermin infestation.

We discovered the problem when our 7-month-old cat caught 3 mice in 3 days and graciously left them for us on the floor of our office. There has been some speculation that this is not a new problem, but perhaps our old cat did not have the hunting prowess to make us aware there was a problem. If that is the case, then all I can say is, "ignorance is bliss." Fortunately Oreo doesn't seem interested in eating the mice, so save for their little demon souls, they were left intact. I don't know if my heart could handle the discovery of little mouse pieces first thing in the morning.

I of course immediately determined the only sensible course of action.

We have to move.

Cory disagreed, but then he's not the one spending his days in a house crawling with disgusting rodents so can I really put any weight in his argument? I am SO not irrational.

I was left to dispose of mouse #1. I picked it up in a dustpan and carried it outside to our garbage can...screaming the entire way. I wish I wasn't serious. After that initial trauma, I decided I was no longer assuming the responsibility of the family mouse undertaker and would leave that particular chore in the hands of Mr. Rational.

Mouse #2 showed up early on a morning I was heading out for my run. As I came downstairs, I saw Oreo's hind legs sticking out from under a cabinet and heard the squeaking of her disgruntled prey. I woke Cory and told him to prepare for an early morning funeral, because there was no way that mouse was going to greet me when I got back.

He went back to sleep.

Five miles later, I came through the front door, glanced into the office on my right and screamed. This time Cory woke up.

Mouse #3 was discovered while Cory was as work. I closed off the room, rolled out some crime tape and left all forensic evidence in place until he could get home and evaluate the mouse-i-cide.

Then I called our Pest Control.

They sent someone out pretty quickly and I explained the situation. As I discussed our cat's role in the gruesome discoveries, Oreo suddenly appeared in front of us, swished her tail, and I swear began to gloat. They set up a few traps, patted Oreo on the head and left.

The weeks went by and every time we thought we had licked our mouse problem, one would turn up in a trap or Oreo's claws. Until everything came to a horrifying climax early last Monday morning.

It was a dark and stormy night. No, I'm serious, it actually was. It had been a busy weekend as usual, and I had gone to bed early in an attempt to play catch up on all my missing hours of sleep. But alas, it was not to be. Around 12:45, I was awakened to the sounds of scampering and crashing. Disoriented, I sat up in bed and tried to get my bearings just in time to see a black shadow crash into a bookshelf. Somewhere my subconcious clicked into alertness, and without even realizing what I was saying, I shook Cory next to me and said, "Oreo brought a mouse to our room!" He sat up with an incoherent glaze in his eyes, watched the shadow disappear under the bed, and then pointed to a tennis ball that had just rolled out the other side. "Yep, there it is!"

For the next 10 horrified minutes, we watched the cat and mouse in a deadly "cat and mouse" struggle. And then Oreo lost sight of her quarry as it scampered behind my bedside table. We turned the light on, moved the table out and tried to redirect her, but she was convinced the mouse was still behind a bookshelf. Finally we poked back under the table and sent the mouse scurrying out again so that Oreo could pick up the scent. That is a scene I will relive in my mind every night before I go to sleep for the rest of my life. We watched the chase cross the room to the dresser, and Oreo somehow dived underneath the 2 inch gap in pursuit. A minute later we watched in surreal stupor as the mouse darted out the edge only to be nabbed by the lightning quick movement of a black and white paw. Oreo came out from under the furniture with the mouse in her MOUTH! I thought the horror was about to finally end, but instead, she walked to the middle of the room, set down her "toy," batted at it, and started the chase anew!

At this point, I decided enough was enough. I raced across the floor, downstairs and on top of the highest piece of furniture I could reach and yelled to Cory, "Tell me when it's over!"

Another 10 minutes of scampering and crashing carried on above me, when Cory suddenly called out, "Open the back door!" He had apparently tired of the catch and release method of pest removal and decided to take matters into his own hands.

I clumsily unlocked and opened the door just as Cory ran up carrying my bathrobe. He parachuted the projectile mouse out onto the back porch. I grabbed Oreo, just as she tried to follow, but I couldn't stop the dog from darting into the gaping mouth of commotion. He walked over to the stunned and likely dizzy mouse, picked it up in his mouth and crunched hard. If I go deaf tomorrow, I will remember the sound of that crunch. Then he dropped the mangled body, sniffed it, and trotted back inside. Cory decided to wait until light of day to dispose of the remains. He then handed me my robe and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"

It was just about the time that my alarm went off 4 hours later that I finally started to drift off to sleep.

That's it, we're just going to have to move.

As for the official record...Oreo:5, Snap Traps:2, Grendel:1, Humanity:0

Whoosh, there goes October!

It feels like school just barely started, but here we are somehow at the end of the quarter! I'm looking at the date today and wondering where my month went.

Week 1...singing for General Conference.

Week 2...classroom volunteering, last week of flag football, pumpkin patch visit, catching up with old Phoenix friends, and a 10 year Law School Reunion...(4 hours my husband had the cheek to refer to as a "date" night.)

Week 3...husband not in Phoenix for first time since August...Disneyland! We even managed to get all 19 of us on one ride together...not a feat I would suggest anyone ever attempt.

Week 4...pull together kids' end of quarter projects, organize monstrous Priest/Laurel date night...discover my date will be in Phoenix again, date gets home just in time to take the Scouts on weekend camping trip...while I stay home alone again and fill our family church cleaning assignment with Anna and Isaac, Sunday finally have all the family home for the first time all week...Primary Program, Isaac is sick, I have 4 hours of meetings.

Week 5...Starting off with husband making early trip to the airport, 6 parties to help with this week...including 3rd grade class party I have found myself in charge of, heading into a sugar coma.

If November didn't mean snow, I might actually be looking forward to it.

In the Choir Loft

In early August, Cory, Zachary and I were called in for an interview with a member of our Stake Presidency. We wondered all week what it could possibly be for, and finally after conjecture and speculation the fateful day arrived. We were given a special assignment to sing in a choir made up of families for the upcoming October General Conference! They were selecting 5 or 6 people from every ward in 9 stakes in the Draper and Sandy area. They told us that this was the first choir of this composition ever to be heard in a General Conference, and that it would likely be 30 years or more before our Stake would be asked to participate musically in another Conference. This would truly be a once in a lifetime opportunity!

Rehearsals started almost immediately and were held for two hours every Sunday evening at a Stake Center in Sandy. This was a definite sacrifice on some weeks and we are especially grateful for friends and family who helped with our other children to make this possible.

The rehearsals were led by our director Timothy Workman. He is amazing! To create the sound he did out of amateur singers, many of whom were children and teenagers is truly a miracle. Every week I was impressed by how quickly the rehearsal time went by and how much our sound as a choir improved. On top of being exceptionally gifted with music, Brother Workman was funny and had a great way of sharing testimony through rehearsal. Every week felt almost like a special fireside or devotional. My voice never became over-tired.

Some of the "nuggets" he shared with us were..."when inspired music is well-performed it doesn't draw attention to the performers, but to the message." He talks about hearing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir once and being overwhelmed by their music not because it was exquisite--which it was--but because listening to it made him realize again that the doctrines about which they were singing were true. He also taught us that we should always sing every note and every vowel in a way that shows our respect and love for God. He told us that the majority of the people all over the world listening to us sing would not understand the words we were singing, but would understand the message if we truly "testified." He said that in any musical performance, the goal should be to "express" not to "impress."

There were many technical details that were dealt with. We had only 3 weeks to memorize the 4 songs we would be singing in Conference as well as 2 additional "contigency hymns" just in case. We had very strict guidelines about dress and grooming and had to wear our "choir-approved" clothes two weeks in a row to make sure they passed a very careful scrutiny. We were required to check in at every rehearsal with one of the 9 choir managers...absences or tardies were not acceptable.

A week before Conference, we carpooled up to the Conference Center for a dress rehearsal. Because this choir was made up of people from age 10 to 80, they could not seat us in typical height formations. It was chaotic, but eventually they managed to get us all into a choir seat. The open air of that enormous building was overwhelming. To hear the final chords of our songs reverberate into that space was inspirational.

The following Sunday evening, we had our final rehearsal and went over the last instructions for our Saturday arrival schedule.

Saturday Conference arrived. We drove to our rehearsal building, and boarded school buses at 10:00 a.m. As we drove up to the Conference Center, we tried to listen to the morning broadcast on the radio, but at the back of the bus, there was little we could hear. Once we reached the building, we were ushered into the theater where we were asked to sit "approximately" where our choir loft seats were. As we waited for everyone to arrive, we watched Elder Christofferson's talk on screen and then listened to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing. It was bizarre to hear the time delay from the screen and from the actual room they were singing in to our right. Then Brother Workman came in to warm us up and lead us in one last and brief rehearsal through trouble spots.

After rehearsing, we were provided with a quick snack and bathroom break, and then escorted into the catacombs and backways of the building. We finally passed the choir's dressing rooms and entered the back entrance to the choir loft. It was jarring to see the seats already beginning to fill almost an hour before the session would begin.

I can honestly say that I remember very little of our actual performance. It flew by in a surreal way, and I know I made way more mistakes than normal. As we finished the last chord of the last song, I found myself slightly emotional.

When it was all over, I was so impressed by the number of general authorities who took a moment to turn back and even come back and thank us for our musical contribution. They were so genuine and kind...true examples of Christ-like love.

And then we filed out of the building, reunited with our families, loaded the schoolbuses and headed home.

A truly once in a lifetime experience! When we got home, we quickly watched our DVR'd recording of our performance and discovered that while I had been given rather too much face time, Cory and Zachary had not shown up at all. Oh well! We will all remember the experience regardless of any visual evidence.

Back to School

It's only been 3 weeks since the kids all went back to school. Which means that for the first time ever, I am home by myself all day. Except I haven't so much been at home. And all that free time I dreamed about this summer seems to have somehow evaporated. So here it is 3 weeks into the school year and I am just now posting the traditional first day of school picture. This year I decided to change it up and take the picture next to our front door instead of in front of the door. And also I haven't replaced my lost camera yet so I had to take the pictures with my phone. And I forgot to take Zachary's picture on the first day because he was running late and my mind doesn't fully function before 7:00 a.m. on a Monday. And I thought about taking his picture on the second day of school, but I was asleep when he left with Dad. And then on the 3rd day of school I was out running when he left and by the 4th day it felt like a lie to pose him in the traditional spot. Sorry, Zachary, no picture for you!

On a side note, he is surviving 8th grade so far...and as we all know, if you can make it through the 8th grade, you can make it through anything. He took the wrong bus home twice in the first week which was fun, but I think we have worked through that issue now. It's a true commitment to get him all the way to Midvale and back every day, but going to Back to School Night and meeting his teachers always reminds me that it's worth all the hassle. He has some amazing teachers, and it's nice to see him in a place with high expectations.



Noah is starting 5th grade! Yikes! He is still at our neighborhood school which is great because it's across the street. I have some concerns about his teacher this year..Isaac had her for 1st grade and she was nice but not completely organized or effective. Luckily Noah is self-motivated and bright...he'll come out on top, I'm sure.

Isaac is starting 3rd grade at Summit Academy where he is thriving. I signed up to be the headroom parent in his classroom because I was feeling guilty about all this free time I'm suddenly overwhelmed by (ha!). The 3rd grade team at his school is on top of things and very fun...I expect him to have a wonderful year.

Anna is my eager 1st-grader. She was pretty tired the first week...it has been a true adjustment to go all day (for her and me both), but she is happy and excited and glad to be surrounded by little friends again. I don't know a lot about her teacher, but whenever I mention her name to other parents from her school they all say..."Oh! You are so lucky!"

I am.

The Pictures Worth Thousands of Words

It's time again for the annual family vacation wrap-up. This year, we dragged our children 10 hours to spend a week camping by Mt. Rushmore. Here is the play by play.

Day 1: Drive. All. Day. Friends had told me that we would see a lot of bikers on our trip because apparently Mt. Rushmore is some kind of Mecca for all Harley afficianados. They couldn't have been more right. It turns out that the exact week that we were scheduled to be in the park is also known as the Sturgis Road Rally. The largest Harley Rally anywhere in the world! As we finally pulled into Custer National Park where we would be camping, the streets in the small town of Custer had been partitioned off to allow room for motorcycles to be parked right down the middle of main street. There were literally hundreds of bikes in every direction. My first reaction was that this was going to make it a hard week to be in South Dakota, but it actually turned out great. Every "family" activity in the area was completely empty all week. We literally had the lakes and hikes to ourselves, and the bikers that we did chat with throughout our adventure were all very friendly and helpful.

(insert picture of main street Custer with bikes and bikers flooding the street)

Nothing daunted we drove up to our campsite at 6:45, jumped out and started some charcoal to cook our foil dinners and set up camp. Then we discovered the bathroom. You see when I had made our camping reservations in June, I had specifically searched for a campsite with flush bathrooms. Apparently the national parks website is outdated because it turns out that in the entire state park there is only one campground without flush toilets...ours. That's right, it would be vault all week for us. Yuck!

Day 2: The main event. We left fairly early to see the Mt. Rushmore monument. We were pleasantly surprised to find it not too crowded. It seems that bikers are not morning people. Cory has been dreaming of this day for as long as we have been married. I was only hoping the mountain would live up to his expectations. It did. It's actually pretty amazing. There is a little half mile loop you can walk that leads you right up to the base of the mountain where you can come at different vantage points of the faces as you wind around the trail. There is also a little Indian village set up where the kids climbed in a teepee and played with buffalo parts.

(insert picture of Isaac holding 2 buffalo horns on the sides of his head, and picture of Anna scraping the hair off of a buffalo hide.)

We took our time with only minor tantrums and had a nice morning.

(insert several pictures of this:)

(from different angles and with different family members in the foreground)

After a lunch of buffalo burgers, we took a drive around the Wildlife trail in Custer Park. For the first half of the drive the only wildlife we saw were the bugs splattered on the windshield, but finally on the south end of the park there was a herd? pack? stampede? of wild burros. They didn't look all that wild, but they did manage to spook a deer out of the fold and we watched her high-tail it into the trees. As we pulled away, we drove slowly alongside a stubborn burro that had decided it was more interesting to walk right down the middle of the road.

(insert picture of burro with face in passenger window)

Five minutes later we found ourselves at the front of a motorcycle traffic jam! There was a herd of enormous buffalo taking up the entire road. We got out and took pictures and chatted with some colorful characters from Texas for about 15 minutes before the first Harleys decided to brave the drive through the herd, and we followed cautiously behind. Only one menacing bull began to charge a biker, but he apparently had already had his exercise for the day because it was a pretty half-hearted attempt.

(insert picture of buffalo littering the road and roadside)

We finished up the day with a walk around Bismarck lake at our campground. It was beautiful and filled with other sorts of wildlife. We saw a beaver home, turtles, fish, astonishing spider webs, cattails, and an amazing egret as it took flight.

(insert pictures of beaver home and spider web)

Day 3: This morning was devoted to "Crazy Horse." This mountain carving of the famous Indian warrior dwarfs the four presidents on Mt. Rushmore. The presidents would all fit in Crazy Horse's hair. Work has been progressing on this colossal sculpture for 70 years and although 1 and 1/2 million tons of rock have been removed so far, I sincerely doubt this will ever be finished in my lifetime. When we watched the information video at the visitor center, we were introduced to the sculptor who conceived this mammoth endeavor...Korczak Ziolkowski..I began to understand why bikers are drawn to this place.

He was either totally visionary or totally crazy. At any rate almost all of the work done to date has been done by this man and his 10 children. He believed firmly in a free economy and declined federal funding to move the process along multiple times in his lifetime. He died in the 80's, and now the project is headed by his wife and 7 of their children and everything is done strictly through donation and park entry fees. The visitors center includes a Native American museum that is fascinating and we all truly enjoyed our visit...even the dog.

(insert following picture, but with all 4 kids standing at the base and pointing in the same direction as Crazy Horse, and Grendel standing with them.)

After a full morning at the monument and museum, we headed back to camp, changed into swimsuits, grabbed our sack lunches and headed over to Legion Lake for the day. We rented a paddleboat, swam and splashed and even played on a small playground next to the beach. Grendel even got in on the act and took a turn out on the paddleboat. Of course, he kept trying to stand at the front of the boat to sniff the water and fell in twice. By the end of the day we were hot, sunburned and exhausted. We drove over to a neighboring campground to take a warm shower, then went back to camp to make dinner.

In the evening we went back to Mt. Rushmore to see their evening program. First a ranger came out and gave a patriotic speech. When she finished, Anna looked at me and did a "huffy breath" and said, "That was LONG!" I concur. Then we watched a video about the making of Mt. Rushmore and a little about the lives of the 4 presidents immortalized in stone. Finally, they asked any past or present servicemen/women to please come to the stage to be honored and participate in the flag lowering. Having all those motorcyle riders there meant the stage swelled with around 300 veterans! It was pretty cool. Then we sang the national anthem and Anna started crying and couldn't quite find the words to express why. I think it confused her to be filled with that kind of emotion. We got home late and after a day in the sun, sleeping bags never seemed so comfortable and we all collapsed into sleep.

Day 4: Jewel Cave. I love caves! About 20 miles east of Custer Park, lies Jewel Cave. We drove over and took a morning tour. The cave is full of interesting calcite formations and was a pleasant 49 degrees 7 stories underground on a blistering day outside. The kids found the formations cool and creepy. Our favorite is a curtain formation aptly titled: Bacon. It looks exactly like a foot wide slice of bacon!

(insert picture of Cory next to stalactite to give it scale)

In the afternoon we drove over to Keystone, a mining town on the other side of Mt. Rushmore. We ate lunch there and started out for a walk down the "old town" main street. We didn't get very far because it was hot and packed with Sturgis Road Rally crowds deporting themselves in stereotypical "harley rider" fashion. We left quickly but it was something of an education...cigar smoke, street tatooing, and the kids got to witness their very first arrest as one biker failed the breathalyzer and was handcuffed and loaded into the back of a highway patrol vehicle. I'm the kind of mom who thinks vacations should be filled with learning opportunities.

We drove back via another scenic route that includes some spectacular tunnels cut into rock that frame Mt. Rushmore in the distance. It was so cool! We also came across some Bighorn Sheep grazing on the side of the road.

Shortly after we got back to our campsite it started raining so we headed into the tent and played cards. This was seriously one of my favorite moments of the vacation...just a chance to be together and relax.

Day 5: Hike day. The weather dropped 20 degrees overnight which made it a perfect day to plan some hikes. First we drove up to Sylvan Lake via the last scenic loop of the park...the Needles Highway. We passed the lake and drove to some even narrower rock-carved tunnels where we got a view of the jutting cliffs that give the "needles" highway its name. We looked at the "Needle's Eye" and then hiked to "Cathedral Spires." It was a 3 mile round trip hike listed as moderate to strenuous, but I think South Dakota hikers must be soft because Anna and Grendel had no trouble with it. Well, except for the one spot of scrabbling that took Grendel 4 tries.

(insert picture of Grendel on trail)

After lunch we went on a second hike around Sylvan Lake. The lake was beautiful and had some really neat "black hills" jutting up out of the water. In retrospect, this would have been a much more interesting lake for swimming and paddle-boating earlier in the week, but alas hindsight, and all that jazz.

After finishing out our drive, we went to town for a round of Mini Golf. Anna won and treated us all to ice cream at Dairy Queen.

Back at camp we decided to hike one more time down to our Camp lake and see if we could get all the way around it. After climbing a lot of rocks and reaching what we thought was the halfway point, we discovered the lake looped back much father than we realized and decided we had better turn back or risk being out after dark.

To celebrate our final night we built a huge fire (the first night it actually felt cool enough to want a big fire) and made a perfect Dutch Oven Peach Cobbler. We played some more games, stayed up late, and soliloquized about the joys of a hot shower and clean sheets.

Day 6: Around 5 a.m. I woke to the sound of rain on the tent roof and began to worry about a muddy day to pack up camp. I went back to sleep...sorta...and by the time we got up at 6:30, it had stopped. The sky still looked ominous so we ate quickly and loaded everything up in record time. As we pulled out of our campsite, it started to rain again! Phew!

The return trip was every bit as long, but we survived and even found time to unload the car when we got home and create the last of the week's landmarks.."laundry mountain."

It was really a great trip, but I'm afraid my memory of this vacation will always be marred by the fact that on the last day of the trip, we discovered my camera was missing. We don't know if it was somehow dropped somewhere or stolen, but after exhaustive searching we knew for sure it was gone for good...with a week's worth of pictures inside it. I really couldn't care less about the camera, but it was heart-breaking to lose those photos..mostly because I'm fairly certain we will never be back to Mt. Rushmore as a family. And I know there are worse things we could have lost...my wallet, the car keys, one of our children (with perhaps one notable exception)..but it still hurts. I am so good at forgetting to take pictures or to even bring my camera with me in the first place, so this outcome feels bitterly ironic. At any rate, I am hoping that my detailed although sometimes dry play by play of this vacation will be enough to fix the memories in my mind and in the minds of my children. Because if this isn't a thousand words...it must be close.

Adventures in Girls Camp

I spent the last two weeks at Girls Camp and Youth Conference. So yeah, I'm tired and a little stinky, but I had a great time and learned some valuable things.


For example, it turns out that I have been wasting way too much time on sleep--I can get by on much less than I thought. A cold shower in the morning is as good as 2 hours of rapid eye movement, and a handful of red vines equals at least a good 45 minute nap.


Also, it's a stretch to call what we did at Girls camp, "camping." Anyone who has had the privilege of staying at the LDS-owned Heber Valley Camp will tell you that you ain't exactly roughing it. Cabins with electricity and heaters, hot showers, refrigerators and sinks don't really qualify as rudimentary necessities. But in all fairness, we did eat outside...near dirt...and trees. I even got a few mosquito bites and had to hike a good .02 miles to the nearest icemaker.


And it turns out that sleep deprivation and Spartan accomodations make me a little punch drunk. So maybe I did a one-woman show about a synchronized swimmer's dream on top of a picnic table. And perhaps I may have shared an impersonation or too..(hey, those girls wanted to see me do Elvis!) and there may or may not have been some beat-boxing. But fortunately what happens at Girls Camp stays at Girls Camp. Just don't go poking around You Tube.


I learned that "I can do hard things."


Getting 36 girls to go on a hike is hard.


Really hard.


Totally worth it though...someday I might post about the pep talk I gave to get us out on the grueling 1.5 mile death march. Really...college football coaches would be proud. I hear they might even make it into a movie...Jennifer Garner is in talks to take on the role.


But ultimately, the lesson I came away with from my week in the wild is that I love these girls! Every single one of them...even the whiney, hike-hating ones. It is a privilege to spend this time with them; I hope I get to go again next year. Cross your fingers that I don't get released when the bishop gets wind of those unfortunate you-tube clips.

Love,

Esther

Piano Lesson Day

6:45 a.m. Alarm clock rings. Groan. Assume it's ringing for husband. Remember that friend is waiting at the corner to run with you. Decide to fake sick.


6:46 a.m. Kitty taps face and begins purring. She heard the alarm and she's ready for breakfast. Roll over. Push kitty away....Kitty is persistent...and sharp.


6:47 a.m. Get up. Feed cat. As long as I'm up, put on running clothes. Start first of about 37 loads of laundry. Off to the corner.


7:55 a.m. Back home. Sweaty. Husband gone to work. All kids sleeping. Ahhh....quiet. Wait a minute! It's piano lesson day! I have 20 minutes to get someone ready and dropped off for a lesson!


7:56 a.m. Wake up least grouchy child. (I'm not naming names, but he knows who he is.) Watch his tedious, bleary-eyed, 18 minute progress from bed to dressed to in the car. Hand him nutritious, home cooked breakfast. Pop-tart. Drop off at piano.


8:20 a.m. Repeat previous step with second least grouchy child. Allow 25 minutes for bleary-eyed progression.

8:50 a.m. Repeat project "wake and annoy" for 3rd time with most grouchy child (or least grouchy teenager if you want to look for the positive side of things). Stand well clear of all thrown objects. Allow 40 minutes for out of bed to in car with pop-tart progression.

10:15 a.m. Piano done. Phew! One more week of lessons behind me with limited casualties.

10:16 a.m. Now to get 3 boys to practice the piano for the next 7 days.

10:17 a.m. Remind myself why I put everyone through this week after week.

Ahhhh..summer

A few nights ago I woke up from a horrible nightmare. It was the first day of school and I was frantically wrangling my children in the vain hope of getting them to their different schools on time. We somehow had forgotten to calendar this important date and it had caught us unprepared and completely by surprise. So I was slapping together lunches one moment-(It seems we hadn't been to the grocery store in a while so mostly "lunch" consisted of stale pop-tarts, and food storage apples)-searching under beds for lost shoes and uniforms the next.
I was desperate for some help, but for some reason Cory was out of town for work and I was running solo. My teenager was refusing to get out of his bed and my baby was in tears with first day jitters. I was at my wits end. You know that hysteria that accompanies really bad dreams? Then, to make matters worse, I looked out the window to see if the carpool had arrived just in time to see the SNOW PLOW drive past my house. That's right, it was the last week of August, but a freak snow-storm had dropped 4 inches in the night. (I'm desperately afraid that this might somehow be a freaky premonition.) Luckily, as I pulled myself from the window in a panic, my alarm clock started beeping my reprieve.

Summer is busy..I find myself running around like crazy getting ready for scout camp, girls camp, youth conference, cub day camp, my in-laws return from their 3 year mission, 2 family vacations...not to mention my regular every day business of life. But there is a special freedom that comes with no homework, later bedtimes, and 9:00 sunsets.

I love summer.

Kinder-goodbye

After 8 years of Kindergarten and Kindergarten anticipation, I turned the page on another chapter of my novel of Motherhood. Anna is officially a big girl, moving on to those grades that have numbers instead of names.

All 4 of my Kindergartners were the "afternoon kind" to quote Junie B. Jones. I confess, I won't miss the multiple drop-off and pick-up schedule next year, but I am mourning mornings spent with children come Fall.

Anna had a wonderful year with some of the most darling little girls in her class. Her favorite friend is Annie...of course. They have more in common than just a similar name. It has been such a change to get to know little girls this time around...to go to little girl parties, to hear little girl woes and worries, to see how little girls play. It's definitely quieter when Anna's friends come over than it was with her brothers. And nothing has ever been accidentally broken.

Anna had two fantastic teachers...Mrs. Tyler and Mrs. Sandgren. I loved going to help in her class every week to hear how well her teachers communicate with 5-year-olds and how effectively they open up their little minds and fill them to overflowing. Anna can read just about anything now and she knows all of her addition and subtraction math facts. It has been so exciting to see the light go on in her this last year.

She is so excited for 1st grade and misses her little friends already, but I'm willing to let this summer crawl by more slowly. It's sad to let go of this special Kindergarten world; there were more tears on the last day of school than the first for me.

What Rhymes with Smitten?

We have a new member in the family! Born March 13th, we adopted her in May.

She is furry, funny, and feisty...we named her Oreo. We figure if we keep giving our cats the names of snack foods, eventually Nabisco will get wind of it and offer us some kind of endorsement deal.

And although, she doesn't really replace the kitty we lost, it didn't take long for us to think of her as just another Talbot. Even when she is naughty. Like when she won't let us take her picture.

A place to Start

You know how when you start putting something off how it just gets easier and easier to keep putting it off? That's how I have felt about my blog lately. I know I need to write. I want to write. But somehow, I just can't make the time to write.

It could be because...

The last few weeks of school bludgeoned me with their last-minute projects, class parties, concerts, fundraisers, programs, awards, recitals, lacrosse games, field days, and graduations.

Or it might have something to do with...

planning and executing a massive fundraiser for the Young Men and Young Women in our ward. Success comes at the price of more hours of preparation than I care to confess.

And then there was...

the genesis of an honest-to-goodness teenager in my home...shortly followed by my baby's graduation from Kindergarten. A mother's heart can only stand so many milestones at once!

Oh and did I mention...

the 4 weeks straight of family coming to stay with us for the weekend. Visitors are always cheerfully welcome here, but they do cut in to my blogging minutes.

So when school ended...

I loaded up the fearsome foursome and made the trek west to visit my family and hometown roots. We looked for golf balls...we played pool...and we ate lemonade porkchops. All in all a successful outing, with the added bonus of Daddy flying out later in the week to surprise us. How many times does a husband get to pull off something like that?

So in the end...

the problem is I have too much to write about and I don't know where to begin.

But enough excuses! Summer is here and the perfect time for a fresh start. Oh, but time's up..I've got to get the boys to their track meet. I'll try again tomorrow.

May Day! May Day!

I have so much to blog about, but I'm still up to my eyeballs in end of the school year mayhem and foolishness. I honestly think that May is busier by far than December. I am on my way out the door to Dodgeball/Pack Meeting/Ballet Recital, but thought I'd drop a little line just to remind myself in some future day how crazy life is in this wonderful stage of life. And as a reminder to get caught up on this blog at some hopefully soon date. But then again, I haven't read anyone else's blogs for weeks...so what are the chances that when I finally find a minute I will spend it catching up on my reading instead of my writing. Hmmm...

Wedding Day

Congratulations to my youngest sister who got married this past Saturday in Nevada. It was a wonderful, wild, whirlwind of a weekend!

We drove out Friday and arrived in Sparks in the late afternoon...just in time to offer our help in wedding set-up and to find out it was already all set up. Timing has always been a point of pride for me.

So instead, we checked into our hotel and then headed over to wedding planning epicenter...my parent's house. It was chalk full of extended family members..including uncles and cousins I haven't seen in 7 years. Anyone acquainted with the Frey family will tell you that we're not a quiet, observant bunch so it was happy, noisy reuniting all around. A very loud and rejoicing pandemonium.

I got to meet my newest niece for the very first time...Danielle...who was almost born on my birthday. I'll never forgive her for that 2 hour lapse in judgment. Okay, she's very cute so I guess I can forgive her after all.

I chatted with my cousin Jessie who is significantly younger than I am. And now she is a college graduate and oh so chic. I am so old!

We had a rehearsal dinner scheduled for 6:00 and since we had well more than an hour to get ready to go, we were of course late.

The groom was out barbecuing at the church, and that's where I met him for the first time. It's a surreal experience to have your sister marry a complete stranger. I got married when my older sister was on her mission, so I guess my experience can't really compare to hers, but it's still weird. However, Brian seems like a very kind, good, hardworking person. I look forward to getting to know him better in the future. He understandably did not have a lot of spare time to spend chatting with me, so I moved on and continued catching up with other family. And began meeting the extensive family of the groom. We ate steak and chicken and salad and baked beans and conversation.

On Saturday we ran some last-minute errands until our "help" became too much. So we took all the kids out for ice cream to get them out of the way.

The wedding was at 4:30 and was simple and lovely. The sweetest moment was when Lenaya's 2-year-old daughter walked down the aisle in her "princess" dress and saw Brian and yelled out, "hi, Daddy!"

What followed would be described as "a million pictures" by my husband and children, but I think we were only actually in about 5 of them. Then the reception followed.

Now was my chance to see old friends from my home stake. Many of these people have been lost to me since I graduated from high school in 1994. They would say things to me like, "You haven't changed at all." And I would respond, "I know...can I introduce you to my nearly 13-year-old son?" Still, it made me feel young to see so many faces from my past. And Cory said only about 5 people confused him for my sister's husband. When they said to him, "Your new baby is so cute...you're sure taking good care of Larissa," he would respond, "Actually, I sent Larissa away to Colorado so I could live with her sister, Cami."

It was a late night. We all boogied. And ate...a lot...my mom made her now traditional wedding cheescake tarts. I personally had three of them. Along with what was the most delicious wedding cake I have ever tasted.

On Sunday, we got up and dragged our children to church, then went back to the now demolished wedding zone aka my mom's great room. We chatted with now dwindling numbers of family as one by one they headed out in various modes of travel. Finally, we pulled our own children away from Grandpa's pool table and headed out at the very practical hour of 1:45 (that's 2:45 Draper time). After a long drive home, we went straight to bed, knowing that school and work would wait for no wedding. Cory got up early Monday to go the airport for business that will have him in San Francisco until Thursday. And I began damage control...and unpacking.

I am so happy for my sister. I am so grateful for the chance to see so many people that I love in one weekend. But mostly, I am so exhausted.

Un-Spring Break

I would like to acknowledge that I have a murmuring problem. Not all the time, and not about everything, but there is one area of my life where I find myself endlessly complaining. So this year, I made a concious effort to overcome this fault. Oh the times I longed to grumble! But I just bit my tongue until it bled. I think I did pretty well...until Spring break...because my old nemesis decided to taunt me mercilessly. That's right...you know what I'm talking about...SNOW! It's one thing to be cheerful and accepting about winter while it's winter...but in April?

My kids had a short Spring Break...they got out the Thursday before Easter and went back the following Tuesday.

On Thursday it snowed.

They really needed to go outside and run off some energy. Seriously. For their own health. Or I was going to hurt them. But instead, I took them to an afternoon matinee of "How to Train Your Dragon." Cute. Fun. But zero energy burned.

Friday it snowed again.

Four children trapped indoors...day two.

Good times.

So attempt number two to get the devil out was to drive over to the local aquarium to see the brand new penguin exhibit. We found ourselves in line with every other child on Spring Break in the valley. Then we waited in lines to see everything from penguins to jellyfish. Fun? Yes. Crowded? Absolutely. A chance to de-ants the pants? Alas, no.

Friday night, my sister-in-law and her family came to spend the night, increasing the grand total of kids stuck indoors to 7.

Saturday...no snow.

Just really, really cold.

I love General Conference weekend, and it really was wonderful. However, Conference means we don't go anywhere all day, and my stir-crazy kids begin to implode. Callee wisely departed with her family early to return home south where the sun is more than just a mythical anomaly.

Sunday. Easter Sunday. Snow. Not just a light dust, but 6 heavy, icy, drifting inches. The kids woke up thrilled to find their Easter baskets, looked out the window and wondered if maybe they should be looking for Santa-filled stockings instead. I didn't even take a picture because I was too depressed. And I was trying to hold firm to my no murmuring resolution. Ha!

We still had a pleasant day with an egg hunt, Conference, and a nice holiday dinner. Of course, now we had 4 stir-crazy children with about 14 pounds of sugary candy inside of them.

Monday. You guessed it. It snowed.

I decided to run errands. I had become so snow-addled that this was an exercise in futility. I drove all the way to Costco where I waited in line to get gas. Finally, after 15 minutes it was my turn. I stepped out with my purse and noticed I had left my wallet at home. After driving back home, I now no longer had enough time to go back to Costco because I had to get kids to piano lessons. So instead, I decided to do the grocery store. Where I promptly forgot the 3 most important things on my list. I scurried home where I got my kids to lessons...late. I then needed to go pick up something I had ordered online that morning. It was that online ordering that had caused the wallet-less Costco episode. I drove over to pick it up, and discovered that somehow I had not ordered from the store closest to me, but from one all the way across the valley. So you know what I did? I started laughing...long...and hard. Maybe there's hope for this murmuring trouble after all.

Tuesday it snowed. The kids went back to school.

Finally, it warmed up this weekend. My trees are budding. The annuals are poking their heads out of the soil. We cleaned up the yard and cleaned out the garage. We pulled out our bikes and our sandals.

Today?

Snow.

And if you can't say anything nice, then you better not say anything at all

Cheezit the Wondercat

Seven years ago, we took our then three children to the Humane Society "adopt-a-pet" day to pick out a dog. After hours of petting, barking, and licking we came home with this guy:

We named him Cheezit and embarked on the first of many cat adventures. A couple of years after we got our kitty friend, Cory started telling the kids "Cheezit the Wondercat" stories at bedtime. These stories revealed that Cheezit was actually a crime-fighting feline who defeated a variety of animal nemeses along with the aid of his sidekick, Dumb Dog. It turns out Cheezit speaks with a British accent. Two years ago, Dumb Dog was replaced with our more recent pet addition, Grendel the Dog.

Last week, we took a sick kitty to the vet and discovered after a number of tests and procedures that he had very advanced cancer. We had to let him go humanely on Friday.

We are all still very sad here, although probably none more than me. It's still hard to write or talk about it. We got the cat for our kids, but as it turns out, he became more my pet than anyone else's. I guess that is the natural result of being the one to take care of all of his needs. Over the weekend, I began writing what basically was becoming a cat eulogy and decided that I didn't want to post it here. I'll save it for my kids. I wrote it for them because I know they will forget their first pet soon...which is as it should be. Still, I want them to remember something, and I want to remember too. Right now there is a very present but absent weight at the foot of my bed when I lay down at night.

I hope there's a place in heaven for good pets. And I hope that "Cheezit the Wondercat" will survive to fight another day...one bedtime story at a time.

Birthday and Baptism

This week I am having hardwood floors installed in the living room and dining room on the main floor. This means that every day this week, I have to be out of my house from about 8 in the morning until dinner-time. It also means that most of the furniture on the main floor is now crammed into the family room. With the exception of my grand piano. Which is upright in the office about 18 inches from where I sit typing. Basically I'm living out of my car for a week. Seriously...if you could see my car right now you would likely exclaim, "Sheesh! It looks like someone's living in here!" Anna and Isaac suggested this afternoon that we install a refrigerator and a washer and dryer. "Because," as they reasoned with impeccable logic, "we already have a TV." (All they ask for in life is food, clean clothes, and mindless entertainment...oh...and drive-through dinners.) In a word, our home life at the moment is chaos.

In addition to this, our family is suffering a personal tragedy at the moment. I will post about this soon, but today's post is about something more important. So, even though I clearly should be using the precious hours I have in my actual house to do something like...laundry...or T.V. viewing, I am taking the time to write about this past weekend of events.


Isaac turned 8 on Saturday, and by coincidence, our Stake Baptism day fell on the same day! So, just like his brother Noah, he got to have his birthday and baptism together.

Lots of wonderful people came to share the special day with us. Grandma and Grandpa Frey drove out from Sparks on Friday even though they had to turn right around and drive home on Sunday. Aunt Carrie-anne and Uncle Ryan and their kids Emily, Jacob, and Joshua drove up from Toquerville; Aunt Callee and Uncle Jeff came from St. George with Max, Sam, and McKinley; my cousin Gretchen and her husband Ryan drove up from Orem with their 6 kids; and Aunt Kim drove over all the way from Sandy...okay 7 miles, but we were grateful just the same. He was baptized at 9 a.m. by his dad, and in addition to the family who came, two families from our ward were there as well. The Cleggs--our home teacher--and the Prices.

After the baptism, we drove down the hill to our ward building and had a fun brunch. The kids ran around to their hearts' content while moms and dads chatted and caught up, and we all ate a lot of muffins!

After the brunch, Mom and Dad took Isaac to pick out his birthday present...a NEW BIKE! He had asked weeks before so sweetly if he could ever have his very own bike instead of a hand-me down. In the afternoon, our family and most of the cousins watched "Planet 51," per the birthday boy's request, at the dollar theater. This was followed by "make your own pizza" night at home (18 different personal pizzas, yikes!) and cake and ice cream.

It was a wonderful weekend and a special day. There is always a special spirit at baptisms. Even when there are a lot of noisy cousins and siblings around.

Isaac confided in me before he went to bed on his eventful day the following:

"I actually got baptized when I was 7, because I was born at 9:30 at night so I won't turn 8 until tonight!"

He is such a dear, cheerful, sweet little boy!

Four Eyes

In January, I got a letter from the elementary school informing me that Anna had failed her Kindergarten vision screening. I was completely surprised so I asked Anna about it. She casually replied that, "I can see out of this eye," (pointing to her right eye) "but not out of this eye." (pointing to her left eye). So I did my own little eye test right there which consisted of 15 different permutations of the question, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

After extensive and exhaustive research I came to the following conclusion. She can see fine out of her right eye but not so much out of her left.

Cory was harder to convince. He somehow doubted my optometric methods. So at dinner that night, he conducted his own version of the "How many fingers am I holding up?" diagnostic. To his own surprise, he confirmed my earlier findings.

So the next morning, I looked up a pediatric opthamologist through my health insurance provider list. There were 8 names...5 of them had the same number listed. I called them first. The number had been disconnected. The second number I called told me they don't work with pediatric patients. The third number had a recorded voice message telling me to call back during normal business hours. I was calling at 10:15 in the morning, so I'm not sure what that means exactly. Finally the last number I reached told me that they do in fact take pediatric patients, but that the number I had dialed was their business office so they couldn't set up an appointment. Maybe our current administration is on to something with this health care reform agenda.

Luckily, the last office redirected my call to someone who could actually help me. The soonest they could schedule an appointment was six weeks later. So I took the appointment and moved on with my life or at least my morning.

I didn't think about it again until 5 weeks and 6 days later when I got the reminder call. So on a Monday afternoon, I trekked to downtown Salt Lake City and spent 20 minutes driving around the Primary Children's Hospital parking structure looking for an empty spot. Finally, I called the office to say I was going to be late or possibly a no-show because there was never going to be an empty spot in that parking garage ever again. They told me an alternative place to park. Finally I walked into the office 65 minutes after I had left home and 5 minutes after my 1:30 appointment time.

Cory called and told me he was going to come meet us for her appointment. I told him I had managed to do 347,210 doctor office visits on my own in my career as Mom so he didn't need to worry about it, but he insisted. And then I remembered Anna's role as "Baby Princess Only Girl."

In the office we waited with one other patient. We got called back to one room where a technician ran a number of vision tests. We went back to the lobby and waited a little longer. Now there were half a dozen patients. A nurse called us back to another room and ran a number of vision tests. We went back to the lobby and waited even longer with about 10 other patients. An intern called us back to a room, ran a number of vision tests and dilated Anna's eyes. We went back to the lobby and waited...a really long time with every last pediatric opthamology patient in the state of Utah. I was obviously not going to make it back to the elementary school in time to pick up the car pool at 3:10, so I made a phone call to a friend to see if she could get the kids for me. Then we waited some more. Finally, we went into yet another exam room where now the doctor ran a number of vision tests.

To make a long story long...the findings? Amblyopia, or lazy eye. Basically she can see out of her right eye but her vision in her left eye is 20/600. So 2 1/2 hours into our appointment we got a prescription for glasses and a request to come back for another exam in May. Good times.

In my heart of hearts I feel a little sad about getting glasses for my 5-year-old. I have always thought she has such beautiful blue eyes and now they are obscured by mismatched lenses, making one eye appear abnormally large. I know it's good that we caught this early and that eventually it will either begin to correct itself, or she will get old enough to wear contacts, but the feminine and vain part of me wishes my only daughter didn't have to take on this particular accessory.

Anna, on the other hand, loves it. She had to wait a week for her glasses to come in, and wore me out with the question, "when are my glasses going to be done...I'm tired of waiting?" The first day she wore them to school she came home and said she "got too much new friends because I have glasses." I thought once the novelty wore off, it would be hard to keep her in them, but it's been 3 weeks now and she wears them from the moment she gets up until I make her put them away and go to bed at night.

She still looks pretty cute.

Math Counts

The Olympics are over so I can return to my life. I have been woefully absent from my blog this year. The whole reason I started this was to motivate myself into journaling on a regular basis, and keep my extended family involved and up-to-date in my life. Then my life got in the way of my ambition.

I am re-committing to my effort...and I have many things that really need to find their way into my "memoirs." But since I only have 12 minutes before I have to pick up my daughter from school, I'll start small.

To say that my oldest child is good at math does not quite define the scope of his natural ability. So I have a couple of anecdotes to illustrate his innate understanding. (Look out...here comes the obnoxious mom side of my blog.) 1-When Zachary was 5 years old, we were driving around in the minivan running errands and to distract him, we started playing the "doubling game." We started with the number 1 which doubled to 2 which doubled to 4 and so on. He didn't stop at 32 or 64...he got into the millions...in his head...his 5-year-old head. 2-Around this same age he began his obsession with professional sports. Cory was watching March Madness one Saturday, Zachary came in, planted himself on the floor, looked at the screen and casually announced, "Duke's up by 17 huh?" We discovered that in any basketball game, he could seemingly instantly tell you the point spread. 3-His 1st grade teacher called me one day to say that Zachary had "figured out" multiplication on his own. Not in the sense that he had started memorizing multiplication tables, but in the sense that he sat down and described an array to her. She challenged him with a few multiplication facts and said his answers were instantaneous...almost as if he could "see" the solution in his head. 4-Last year when we tested him for the magnet junior high, he missed 1 question on the math section. This is the test they give to kids 2 grade levels ahead of him.

When we decided to send him to that school, one of the defining elements of our decision was a homeroom called "Math Counts." It's a math competition program akin to debate or athletic olympics. It combines his love of math and his hyper-competitive nature...a perfect alchemy!

In January, he attended the District Competition...competing against 7th and 8th graders from 16 junior high schools. In typical Zachary style, he never even mentioned it to us. He just walked in from school that afternoon holding the 5th place trophy. The top 10 go to Chapter competition.

Chapter fell on a Saturday in February. Cory took him to the event and was taken aboard to help score tests. They take a preliminary test, and the top 10 students move on to a head to head competition. Cory texted me in the middle of his grading to tell me that the questions were brutal...he thought he could probably figure out 1 out of 5. There were 45 questions...the highest score he saw all day was 10. Zachary got 21. With no outside help or practice, he finished 8th. I came to watch the head to head and my brain is still reeling. I got 0 answers sitting in the audience and half the time, kids were ringing in on the buzzer before I finished reading the question. Top 10 go to state. Zachary couldn't be more excited!

Then, the Monday after the competition, Zachary came home visibly upset. State competition is the exact same time as his little brother's baptism. He won't be going to State this year. It was one of those times when as a mother, I could literally feel my heart break for my child. I consoled him as best as I could, but I know he is still disappointed. I hope that this experience with disappointment will help him in some way. I hope that he won't resent his younger brother. I hope this will help him to understand the value of family and the priority we put on that in our home. But mostly I really, really hope that he makes it to State next year. I don't think either one of us could handle a second heartbreak.

34.

Today is my birthday. When I was a kid this day seemed way more exciting than it does now. Grown-up birthdays turn out to be pretty much like every other grown-up day.

Admittedly, the number 34 seems impossible to me...didn't I just hit 30 last year? I've come to terms with the fact that I am no longer a young mom with small children. But truly, honestly, I sometimes still think I'm in my 20s.

When I was at Costco with my 2 youngest children, a young man in his early twenties stopped me to say, "Hey, I know you're married and I'm not hitting on you or anything, but I just wanted to tell you that you're a really pretty mom." As if being a mom and being pretty were mutually exclusive. Or as if he meant...you're pretty...for a mom. I chuckled at the time because his whole manner was like he was talking to his grandma or something. But it made me realize that even if I still perceive myself as a young woman, the outside world definitely does not.

Sure there have been some clues that I'm aging. What used to be just one gray hair has recruited a lot of friends. I can no longer deny the lines on my forehead...and yet I still get pimples! It doesn't seem fair to have wrinkles and zits at the same time. And the word "sag" around here is not in reference to the "Screen Actors Guild."

Physically, I consider myself to be in pretty good shape. I run three times a week, and I do moderate weight training at the gym. I even got a mountain bike for my birthday so I can head up the nearby trails when the snow melts. But I have to admit that my body doesn't bounce back from things like it used to. In the past two years I have gone through an increasing number of annoying injuries...sprained ankle, IT-band pain, trochanteric bursitis, and acute back strain. Just little reminders that my muscles and joints are not as elastic and resilient as they once were.

But despite a new healthy acknowledgment of mortality, I wouldn't go back a decade. I am more capable and competent than I used to be. I have learned to take things in stride more. I have a greater understanding of my faults and failings, but a better appreciation of my strengths. I have fewer friendships than when I was young, but such a greater depth to the relationships I do have. I feel more confident as a mother than I did 10 years ago. I have drawn closer to my husband in this thirty-something phase of life. How I adore that man! Even when he makes me crazy.

Today I treated myself to lunch for my birthday...I brought a book, ate a delicious salad and just relaxed by myself in a restaurant. Not that long ago I would have considered this as fairly pathetic. But now I know how to enjoy the rare times when I can be by myself.

As I was driving home, I couldn't help smiling to myself. I guess I just realized something really great on today, my 34th birthday.

I am happy.

p.s. My sister is potentially having a baby girl today..could there be a better present than a new niece? And shouldn't I get to be her favorite aunt by default?

Make a U-Turn If Possible

So I have a special friend I take with me everywhere I go. She isn't the best listener, but she tells it like it is no matter what. It's refreshing to have someone in your life who is brutally honest. And although sometimes her counsel sends me in unexpected directions, I trust her advice explicitly.

She is the voice of my GPS. Or as I call her...Gerty.

I don't know how I ever lived without her. And since my husband has been out of town for 5 weeks, I've had a lot of extra quality time with her. I have found myself pondering the inherent symbolism of my utter dependence on an electronic gadget. I have decided that really Gerty has many life lessons to share with me.

I will be the first to confess that sometimes the routes Gerty maps are not the most direct. Maybe I take the long way now and then...but ultimately I always arrive at the desired destination. I had a life-map all planned out by the time I got to college too...and guess what? Not everything worked out according to my plan. Unbelievable, no? However, I look around at where I am in life right now and realize that maybe I just took the scenic route to get here.

Until 3 weeks ago, Gerty had never once let me down. So I was surprised when running an errand to our new School District building, Gerty directed me to take a right on a seedy looking alley. My instincts were that this was some kind of mistake, so I kept going for another block and discovered a dead end. Turning around, I decided to risk the narrow alley. A hundred yards in, I hit another dead end. I could see through a barbed wire fence the main road that the GPS was leading me too, but due to the construction of some new city buildings, there was now no longer an outlet from the narrow street I was on. So after a quick, 17 point turn, I backed out and turned south to find a street that would get me were I was heading. At first I felt enormously let down by my navigator, but after a while I realized this was analagous to real life as well. There are times in our lives for all of us when we're driving along smoothly and an unexpected road-block appears in our path. Sometimes we have to find another way to travel for a while. Maybe we'll have to go in the wrong direction for a minute...or at slower speeds, but eventually we can find our way back to the main road.

When we go on long trips, Gerty sometimes says things like, "Stay on the road..for..over... 300 miles." It's like the days of relative calm in my life...sometimes the routine might seem monotonous, but those times represent a chance to catch my breath and savor the little things. I hit one of these long stretches when I was in the baby-stage...changing diapers, late-night feedings, filling many physical needs. Now I find myself on an entirely new stretch, full of more twists and turns and I look back to those monotonous days with a different admiration.

My kids' favorite thing to hear from the GPS is "Make a U-turn if possible." I'm not sure why, but they get a huge kick out of this...probably because it means Mom blew it and made a mistake. But again, in my analogy, there are choices and options I have taken in my life that have led me in the exact opposite direction I wanted to be heading. The only thing to do at those times is to make that U-turn and find your way back.

And sometimes Gerty says, "Take the second left turn."

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

As Time Goes By

My baby is blooming in Kindergarten.
She is reading, writing, and "rithmetic-ing" up a storm around here.
Today she aspires to become a ballerina, a doctor and a mommy.
Last week, she wanted to be a pizza chef.
As a naturally social little creature, she is only truly in her element when she is surrounded by her swarms of pig-tailed compatriots.
She loves, and I mean LOVES to do homework.
I couldn't be happier for this stage and phase in her development. It is a joy to see her taking steps of independence.
Every day, I drop her off at school, and her teacher helps her out of the van.
She walks a few steps toward the classrooms, then suddenly stops as if she has remembered something important. She turns around and finds me watching her; smiles an eye-pinching grin; waves at me; and blows me a big, beauty-pageant kiss.
And I smile back and blow her a kiss too.
And though I adore the goofiness of this tradition of departure...my heart breaks just a tiny little bit every time I drive away.

2009 In Review

January meant about 600 miles logged on the van driving kiddos to practices, activities and games. Resolution for this year: Get to every game with a water bottle, equipment, and...oh yes, the right uniform on.



February was all about travel. Dad spent most of the month in Phoenix on business. An irony for someone who spent a good part of 2007 shuttling him to the airport in Phoenix so that he could work in Salt Lake City. We also made a trip to a niece's baby blessing, and to Disneyland as a family. At the end of the month, I joined Cory on his last trip to Phoenix to catch up with old friends and sunshine. Resolution for this year: Do not leave car keys on an airplane.





March was all about late snow...whining about late snow...running in the snow...taking off the snow tires before the snow was all gone...and Isaac's Indiana Jones birthday party. Resolution: Make peace with Mother Nature.

In April, we left Dad at home and went to visit my parents while the kids were off-track. For me..it was a chance to give up domestic responsibilities for a brief but very appreciated heartbeat. For the kids..it was a chance to play 372 games of pool. And I'm sitting here trying to remember even one small detail of the 8 hour drive there or the 8 hour drive back and coming up blank. I guess my sub-conscious is protecting me. Resolution: Go back again this April for my sister's wedding.

(One day in Sparks, Grandpa took us to a drive racecars..

Anna who is terrified to ride anything bigger than a tricycle,

was willing to let Zachary drive her around...quickly and erratically.)

In May my oldest turned 12 and I was called as the Ward Young Women's President in the same week. Both events have brought new joys to my life...and new meaning to the word "patience." Resolution: "Come what may...and love it"..or at least laugh at it.


June we pulled ourselves through the finish line of school, trial, and the Ragnar Relay. Zachary graduated from Elementary School, Anna graduated from pre-school (and turned 5), Cory spent a month working 18 hour days, and I ran another 30 hour relay marathon...all with varying degrees of success. Resolution: New shoes for everyone.


July was a blur...I hosted a family reunion, spent a night at girls' camp, attended the beautiful wedding of a high school friend in California, went to Youth Conference, sent my oldest away for a week at Scout Camp...and sprained my ankle. Resolution: Don't run faster than you have strength.

80 per cent of August was spent in a car. We drove to visit Grandma and Grandpa on their mission in Des Moines, Iowa and while there continued as far east as Nauvoo, Illinois. Resolution: Be grateful for the great time we had and remember all the great things we got to see, but never...ever do that again.

In September 3 out of 4 kids started at a new school. Resolution: Let the car-pooling begin!

October was once again filled with dance and sports. Every weekend meant 2 football games and 1 lacrosse game...usually all at the same time in different places...Luckily October weather compensated for the March fiasco. Resolution: Make kids learn to drive themselves to these things.

November brought Noah's double-digit birthday and the Harbertsons to Utah. It was a good time to take stock of our blessings. And to eat. Resolution: Eat less pie.

December was filled with the usual suspects of anticipation, frenzy, and vague threatenings. Oh, and stitches. I for one was strangely melancholy to see it all come to an end so quickly. Resolution: Less hustle, more humble.

Welcome 2010!