ZANI Mom

Photo Catch Up

2011-12-09T08:32:00.000-08:00

I keep waiting to get Cory's pictures so that I can post the events of the last few months, but it's not happening, so I will at least post the pictures that I have and try to download his eventually. Maybe when my kids have all graduated from college.

Cory turned 38! on October 15th this year, but unfortunately was out of town on a Partnership retreat and had to celebrate with us late this year.

In October, I took the kids to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Panguitch during their Fall Break. We hiked in Bryce Canyon and Anna turned out to be an enthusiastic hiker! No one was more surprised by this turn of events than Anna.

For Halloween this year, Anna wore an adorable Rapunzel costume made by Grandma Talbot. The frying pan was a hit on the trick or treat route, although we were careful not to let her actually hit anyone with it.

Isaac was a dementor from Harry Potter. He has been obsessed with the series over the last few months and is finishing the last book right now.

Noah had the coolest idea for a costume this year...he went as Chuck Norris! Chuck Norris jokes are all the rage right now, so I thought this was clever.

Zachary stayed home and gave out candy, but he did help us carve our jack-o-lanterns!

In November, Noah turned 12! He got to go on a special trip with Dad to Sea World where they took lots of pictures and had a wonderful time. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures to show you here.

A week later Cory had surgery to repair his achilles tendon. Again, we have some cool pictures on Cory's phone, but maybe it's better for the squeamish if I don't post them on my blog.

We hosted Cory's parents, sister, and a friend for Thanksgiving. I made 10 pies! (2 chocolate cream, banana cream, coconut cream, mixed berry, blackberry sour cream, crumb-top apple, pumpkin, sweet potato, and lemon meringe) I'm pretty sure we will not have that many pies ever again.
Our other big family news is that on the day before his surgery, Cory was called to serve as the 1st Counselor in our Bishopric. This will mean some big changes for our family...and hopefully some blessings too.

Anna is once again participating in the Children's Nutcracker this weekend. This year she is in 2 dances...she's a soldier and a Chinese dancer.

We are looking forward to the holiday here, and enjoying the time we have to spend together!

Cathartic Journaling

2011-10-27T10:53:00.001-07:00

Back in the way long ago of my intention to write more consistently in my blog, I talked about an essay about journal writing. It was a really fun discussion about different styles and forms of writing, written by a Louise Plummer for a class she was teaching about different methods of expressing yourself in your journal to make it more interesting to read. I think it's time to investigate suggestion number two...cathartic writing.

Cathartic writing is basically a form of venting on paper. It's blowing off steam or exposing your frustration or challenges in an unapologetic way.

Boy would that make a blog more interesting to read.

Maybe a little too interesting

Here goes...

I have had it with the geniuses who peddle junk to my kids in the checkout line of every grocery store in America! Who thought it would be a good idea to put candy at eye level with toddlers? I want to take that Market Research moron on a shopping trip with me someday. He can push the cart and try to keep track of my wandering, bickering, complaining children while narrowing down the best deals on chicken thighs, enchilada sauce, and fabric softener. Then he can escort one of those kids to the bathroom because they have to go RIGHT NOW and come back to find that a well-meaning employee has now put away all the items you painstakingly had placed in your cart before the unscheduled break. Then he can find a way to satisfy the tastes of 4 different children as you make your cereal selection. While he stands in an endless line of carts waiting for a turn to explain the different headlines your curious 1st grader is asking about from the cover of this month's "Cosmo," I think I will sit and watch while I luxuriously drink a carbonated beverage. I will play a game where I tally the number of times he has tell one of my children "No, you can't buy that!" The final count will be the number of times he will be required to now load all the groceries into my car, and unload and put them away at my house.

There, that feels better.

What I did last summer

2011-09-16T09:11:00.001-07:00

Summer oh summer where have you gone?
The shorts and the flip-flops we no more can don.
With events crowded in from beginning to end,
It seemed you flew by my old fair-weathered friend.

In June I spent two weeks driving down to the Y
For Zachary's math camp, where he learned about pi...
And bubbles and code-breaking, and his Rubik's cube,
Welcome alternative to surfing You-tube.

There were things going on with the rest of my crew...
Cub Camp, ballet, track...to name just a few.
And Zachary enjoyed Provo and campus a lot,
So he tried EFY and was spiritually taught.

The first week of July I was in charge of Girls' Camp.
Which meant giggling and staying up late with a lamp.
We went for an imaginary trip on a boat,
And came back with testimonies, crafts, and good quotes.

Just in time to get ready for Pioneer Trek,
Where "Pa" Cory prevented a tragic cart wreck.
From rugged Rocky Ridge to quiet Martin's Cove,
The lessons we learned are worth a true treasure trove.

Back home we were busy with more summer fun.
Camp-outs, river rafting, shooting a gun.
Even Anna got into the firearm drama,
Shooting targets, (or trying to) with Grandpa and Grandma.

I made a dash South with some girls from my book group,
To catch "The Bard's" plays performed by an acting troupe.
Although Richard III was my favorite play yet,
I also truly enjoyed Romeo and Juliet.

We snuck in a quick Frey Family retreat.
To see cousins play nicely together was sweet.
We did Tahoe, water slides, and a 3-legged race,
Not to mention smashing an egg on my face.

Now we're well on our way into a new school year.
My head's filled up with schedules and plans ear to ear.
I've neglected my blog in a scandalous way,
But my life is so full with both work and with play.

There you are dear sister...I hope this satisfies the requirement.

Journaling

2011-08-01T08:52:00.000-07:00

I recently read a collection of essays by writer Louise Plummer, titled "Thoughts of a Grasshopper." They are delightful...funny, uplifting...a boost of positive thought and energy. One of the essays is a talk she once gave about writing journals. She talked about a number of different approaches to use in journal writing. I was completely motivated and decided I will try to implement some of her ideas on my blog, starting today.

Her first style of journaling was "description." This is my typical writing style...I describe a vacation, a day, a life experience. She recommended describing the types of things your posterity would love to know about you someday.

Here goes...

My first memory:

We have been at an evening swimming party. I remember Mom and Dad and older sister Larissa there, but not my baby brother who I assume would have been around somewhere. I have spent most of the evening sitting on the very top step of what I remember being the pool of someone from church. I am timidly splashing the couple of inches of depth. Every once in a while, Dad carries me out into the bigger, deeper areas of the pool and I am equally parts thrilled and terrified. My more adventurous sister seems to be everywhere at once. Eventually the party winds down and I am fascinated watching a rolling, tarp-like cover stretch out across all that blue. Mom has dressed me in a green jumper with enormous pockets and is now distracted...I think with a barbecue or one of my siblings. I stand at the edge of the covered pool as my curiosity flows. Finally, I leap into the air and land on the pool cover only to discover I am sinking. I don't have enough time to feel any fear because in a matter of seconds, someone pulls me out and I have only had time enough to wet the pants of the green jumper. I am in the bathroom with my mom who is soothing and drying me simultaneously.

This memory is so vivid in my mind, but I still am not one hundred percent it really happened or was just a dream. I have asked my parents about it, and they say it sounds vaguely familiar, but can't fully corroborate. If my facts are right, I would have been 3 years old at the time...the memory is so full of clear detail that I think it must have really happened.

Pioneer Teenagers Sang? As They Walked

2011-07-22T06:39:00.000-07:00

I'm back, but only briefly...I'm gearing up for Trek next week where, with the help of my husband, "Pa," I will shepherd my family of youth across the plains and ridges of Wyoming. I think it will be fun. This is one of those youth activities that falls perfectly within my mantra, "I can do hard things."

Here's our Pioneer Trek experience by the numbers:

8: The number of youth ages 14-18 who make up our "family"...3 boys, 5 girls.
11: The number of buckets that will be loaded into the handcart that we'll work together pushing and pulling along the National Historic trail, Rocky Ridge, and Rock Creek Hollow.
36: The number of miles we'll cover on foot in 3 days.
98: The number of pages in the notebook/guide/journal given to all 400 participants of the Trek...so if nothing else, we're covered for toilet paper and firewood.
6: The number of times I have run to Wal-Mart this week to "pick up a couple more things for Trek" even though I was officially packed last Saturday.
52: The number of neck coolers I have sewn this week only to find out that the forecast for next week is predicting cool temperatures.
15: The number of pioneer skirts I have made or helped make in the past month.
1000: Roughly the number of dollars I have spent outfitting Zachary, Cory, myself, and my Ma and Pa bucket for this event.
12: The number of months our stake has been having planning meetings to prepare for our 3 day excursion.
3: The number of weeks the real Martin and Willie handcart companies spent preparing for their 1300 mile journey...including building many of their handcarts.
11: The number of first aid kits within a 3 foot radius that will be available at any given time.
5 1/2: The number of hours we will be traveling on buses next Tuesday beginning at 5 a.m.
11: The number of catered meals we will be enjoying during our week...just like the real pioneers. (Are we talking about a re-creation of the experience or recreation? hmmmm...)
6: The number of miles Cory says it will take to walk the "whine" out of our teenagers.
20: The number of times I will laugh at Cory during the Wednesday night "hoedown."
9: The average number of hours we will be walking day 2 and day 3.
6289: The number of times we will have to answer the question "How much farther?"
1500: The number of pages of preparation reading we were assigned.
1100: The number of pages I actually read. (Hey...I still have 4 days!)

So why do we do this all? Why do we spend a vast amount of money, time, stress, and volunteer hours to pull this off?

200: The number of lives sacrificed in the Willie and Martin handcart companies so that a posterity could enjoy the blessings of worship free from persecution. We're here because they believed.

This blog has been temporarily suspended..

2011-06-26T20:14:00.001-07:00

by all things Girls Camp. Please check back in two weeks as we return to normally scheduled programming.

Thank you.

Summer, Help Me!

2011-06-06T08:52:00.000-07:00

I am not a fan of the month of May. Take a look at my desk calendar and you'll understand why. Now keep in mind that I don't write down everything on this calendar...things that are part of our weekly habit don't show up...like Mutual, Scouts, ballet, piano, or Lacrosse practice. Everything on this calendar is EXTRA. Dance recitals, awards assemblies, class parties, field trips, PTA recognition, school programs, field days, make-up games, etc. Most days for the last two weeks we have had at least 4 things going on in the evening, and most days I have had 2-3 places to be as well. So you can imagine my relief when May 31st rolled around and I could turn the page on the desk calendar.

Unfortunately, this is what I discovered when I turned that page...

It's going to be a very short summer. All of my friends are worrying about bored kids and not enough structure. Not me...I'm praying for boredom.

And since it's that time of the year...here is the annual Spring Ballet recital post. This is actually dress rehearsal, so it's a little rusty, but you get the idea. Also, I had to borrow Noah's camera since mine is STILL in the shop. It turns out that every camera part known to man is produced in a factory in Japan that was damaged in the earthquake so will be back-ordered for the next 27 months or something like that.

Independence Day

2011-05-05T06:45:00.000-07:00

I have never been a mother who craves needy, mommy-reliant children. I love, love, love infants with their downy heads and smells. I always loved that moment in each of my four babies' lives when I came to their cribs in the middle of the night and they recognized ME with a look of pure and trusting adoration. I even found it amusing in late baby months when they would all go through that stage where everyone but Mommy is a bad guy...even Daddy.

But! I have always been a great believer in the cutting of apron strings. From toddler-hood I have always tried to expect and teach my toddling protege the things that chubby hands and legs can do for themselves. I have designed chore charts and study schedules and cooking lessons. I expect everyone in my house from 1st grade up to make their own lunch, school-day or no.

And yet! As I am embarking on teenage full throttle, it seems their dependence on me is increasing instead of waning. Some days I feel crushed by the weight of expectancy. No one can seem to get ready for school in the morning without incessant reminding. Homework, chores, and piano practicing seem every day to be a novel and unexpected suggestion. Minutes ago, our carpool showed up to taxi the younger two to school and had to wait for Anna whom I discovered in her room just pulling on pants after being sent up to get dressed 25 minutes ago. She wears a uniform...getting dressed for her means: open bottom drawer, pull out navy skirt or pants and white shirt! If something is lost, it's my responsibility to find it. If they get to school without their lunch/homework/coat I can depend on an urgent and demanding phone call.

Now keep in mind that I am no helicopter parent! Nine times out of ten, when I get that emergency phone call, my response is: "That's too bad, I guess you're going to have to stay in at recess today...or turn it in late...or beg your friends to share their lunches with you."

I think I always imagined that once I got past the baby/toddler stage, things would run more smoothly, effectively, efficiently. I would say, "Go upstairs and brush and floss your teeth," and magically, ten minutes later-mission accomplished! Despite my expectation, instruction, and nagging, I have managed to turn out four exceptionally needy human beings. And for some reason, in the past several weeks, this has become an eat-me-alive kind of problem.

So I was pouring my heart out today in prayer when I suddenly realized the irony of my words. Because how could I expect to turn to a parent to assist me with my needs when I resented the petitions my children are consistently directing to me? I think tomorrow, I need to dig deep for a well of patience and gentleness and truly make the effort to enjoy the un-snipped apron strings for a little longer.

Hotel Talbot

2011-05-04T19:28:00.001-07:00

I haven't journaled anything in a long time, but I have something of an excuse...this week will mark the 8th weekend in a row when we either have had family staying with us here or we have gone out of town.

Week 1: Carrie-anne, Ryan and their kids joined us for the weekend while their kids were off on Spring Break. I pulled my younger kids out of school one day to spend a morning at the Tracy Aviary and Liberty Park. It was a good time but oh so cold! This year has been the year of no spring. We had a nice dinner out at The Cheesecake Factory...just grown-ups...to belatedly celebrate Ryan's birthday.

Week 2: Grandma Talbot bunked with Anna for a couple of nights while she finalized the cleaning and closing of their once home in Sandy. It was the end of an era as the house Cory lived in his entire childhood and youth was sold!

Week 3: Double the Grandparents! My parents and Cory's parents both spent a weekend with us in order to attend Mission Reunions. My folks were able to extend their stay through Wednesday which was fun until I came down with strep throat. Probably had something to do with the late nights and delicious but less than nutritious food we ate all weekend.

Week 4: The day after my parents left, Larissa, Nathan and their 5 kiddos stopped for the last two nights of their week-long Utah excursion. It was great to see them, but they got the back end of my illness and had to work around an 11-year-old scout campout in the back yard.

Week 5: Another brief appearance of Grandma and Grandpa Talbot as they dropped in up north for a wedding.

Week 6: Our Spring Break coincided with my sister's sealing in the Reno Temple so I courageously packed the kids to my parent's house where we met up with Karla and her foursome as well. It was a mixture of chaos and meaningful memories. We went to Boomtown, hung out and TALKED, and had a beautiful day in the temple. My mom kindly housed 8 children and their mothers and the dads joined us at the end of the week. The only major disasters were a teenage, end-of-week meltdown, and an expired temple recommend.

Week 7: All the sisters-in-law and the mother-in-law came north for a "sisters weekend." Carrie-anne ended up bringing her family along as well. The kids and dads played while all the girls enjoyed a much needed respite from responsibility. We watched "Sheer Luck Holmes" at Desert Star playhouse, went shopping, checked out Kim's new pad, went out to dinner, shopped some more, and caught a late movie. It was wonderful even though my mom hours kicked in just as the movie was beginning. I'm not a kid anymore it turns out.

Week 8: Ma and Pa Talbot have more wedding weekend plans coming up, so we will look forward to seeing them this weekend. After that? As much fun as it has been, I think I might just hang a "No Vacancy" sign for a little while.

Rules For Grown-ups

2011-04-01T19:22:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a book in the last week called "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. While ultimately, I find that I have not loved the book because it's a little self-righteous, insecure, and inconsistent, I have found some little nuggets of ideas from the book that have managed to stick in my conscious and unconscious mind. One of them comes right from the start of the book. The author makes a list of "rules of adulthood" or things that she has figured out as an adult that were not always self-evident to her younger self. Among them are things like..."Ibuprofen really does help a headache go away, so just take it." And my favorite, "No one should ever begin a sentence with the words 'No offense, but..." I figured that since I'm 35 now, surely I must have figured out some of my own rules of adulthood.

Here is what I have come up with:

-In a group, the pickiest eater should always choose the restaurant.
-Not everyone has to like you.
-Don't "yuck" somebody's "yum" (Meaning, if sushi, classical music, or hang-gliding aren't your things, it doesn't mean the person who does like them is stupid or crazy.)
-If it takes less than a minute to put something away...just put it away.
-I am a work in progress.
-So is everyone else.
-Never get into a serious discussion when you're tired or hungry.
-Siblings are the only people in your life who totally and completely "get it."
-A nice email/note/Facebook update really does make you feel good.
-White shirts and toddlers just don't mix.
-Be 100% loyal to your spouse.
-If you haven't worn it in more than a year, just get rid of it already.
-Your life will be a lot less stressful if you give people the benefit of the doubt.
-It's okay to say "No" sometimes.
-If you're always too busy to help out a friend, it's probably time to cut something out.
-Don't ever let anyone take a picture of you in a bathing suit.

That's it for now...I'll add to the list as grow up a little more.

Isaac Turns 9

2011-03-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

I am suffering my second camera catastrophe in less than a year. I was getting ready to download my most recent pictures from my brand new Christmas present camera this morning, and I somehow managed to completely strip the place where the USB port enters the camera. So no pictures from Isaac's school patriotic program...no pictures from his birthday...no pictures from the Where's Waldo activity our youth participated in last week.

I'm feeling glum...and frustrated...and angry...and hungry...but that's because it's Fast Sunday. Anyway, I decided that I can't fall back into the old trap of thinking I can no longer blog without photo evidence so I am trying on a positive attitude and if I manage to get the camera fixed, I can always add the pictures to the post later, right?

Last week Isaac turned 9. We had a party with 9 of his friends at Planet Play. Basically this is an establishment that is the crossroads between the baby-ish "Chuck E Cheese" and the obnoxious teenage hangout "Boondocks." Although I know it's less expensive to throw parties from home, you have to love the ability to let someone else do all the work of entertaining 10 feral boys. Isaac is a mild, good-natured, cheerful boy...but let's face it...Laser Tag is a far more appealing "boy cage" than pin the tail on the Donkey.

Sunday was Isaac's actual birthday, so we focused on celebrating together as a family. I have decided this year that I want to implement more family traditions, and one idea I had was to make a "birthday poster" for our family members on their special days. I made it and Anna helped me decorate it, and then I asked every family member to write a special message on it for Isaac. I could tell that it meant a lot to him to read kind words from his sometimes taciturn and teasing older brothers. We hung the poster up in the kitchen and have left it up all week.

After church, Isaac requested a special dinner of "make your own pizzas." We had aunt Kim and some friends from the ward over and loaded on all of Isaac's favorite toppings. Usually when we do pizza, I make salad to go with it. As most people know, Isaac would rather eat a fried worm than a piece of lettuce, so for an added birthday treat, we dispensed with his nemesis. My children all have rather refined palates when it comes to treats, so Isaac had requested his birthday candles be ignited on individual "Molten, Chocolate, Lava Cakes." We spent the evening playing games, watching Veggie Tales, and hanging out. All in all, a satisfying weekend.

Deja vu

2011-03-08T07:11:00.000-08:00

I felt the need to re-post this entry this morning for some reason.

Ode to a Utah Spring

Birthday Blues

2011-02-28T11:51:00.000-08:00

I turned 35 over the weekend. I had relatively low expectations set for the day. I wanted to 1-exercise, 2-use my Valentine's gift certificate for the spa, 3-eat good Thai food, and 4-go to a movie.

1-I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to go for a run. I got dressed, hydrated, geared up, walked out the front door and discovered it was snowing. Plan B was to go to the gym once the kids were all at school. Unfortunately both the carpools we're a part of had conflicts and had asked me to drive for them. This meant that I had to drop off Anna and Isaac at 8:00. The middle school has late-start on Fridays so Zachary needed to be dropped off at 9:00. The elementary school has early-release so they needed to be picked up at 1:00, and then I had to go back for Zachary at 3:00. In the few hours that I wasn't driving kids back and forth, I had to find a birthday gift for the party Isaac was invited to, look for a a replacement jacket for Noah, and drop off a forgotten lunch. No gym.

2-And no time to go to the spa.

3-Early in the week Cory did a thorough internet search for the best Thai food in Salt Lake City. He sent me various menus and locations, and we finally decided on a spot. He called the restaurant to make a reservation, but they told him they were small and didn't take reservations. They assured him they would be able to fit our whole family in on Friday evening when we showed up. To accomodate our movie time, we needed to do dinner by 6:00 and since the restaurant was downtown, Cory suggested I drive the kids over and meet him there. Thirty minutes of traffic and bickering later we parked a block away, trudged over and discovered the place was no more than a pick-up cafeteria with 6 chairs. Since 2 of them were taken, this meant either find a plan B or eat standing up. I can just imagine that whoever took Cory's call about "placing a reservation" earlier in the week must have thought this guy was totally crazy. Since we were downtown, we decided to try out "Thaifoon," an Asian chain that we'd heard good things about. Friday night downtown, meant that we waited 30 minutes before finally finding a seat and another half hour before we got any food. This began the "tears rolling down my face" portion of the evening. By this time, I was so tired and hungry and disappointed that I just couldn't hold the frustration in any longer. Anna seemed very concerned, and the boys a little uncomfortable, but finally after a trip to the bathroom and a good nose-blowing, I actually felt a little better. The food was over-priced, un-authentic, and really salty.

4-By this time, we had to hustle to have enough time to get the kids home and to bed and back to the movie theater for an 8:45 showing. We had to sacrifice Cory's plan to pick up an ice-cream birthday cake. Fortunately we made it about halfway through the opening previews of "True Grit." I have to say, I wasn't that sure about a western, but I ended up really enjoying it. It was darkly funny...(Let's just say the movie opens with a comical hanging scene.) ..just what I needed to end my own comedy of errors.

5-I finally made myself a birthday cake two days later.

I know this post comes across as whiney and I should probably have just put a cheerful face on and been more grateful, but I truly do want to remember the events of the day now that I can laugh about them.

Better luck next year.

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly

2011-02-16T07:12:00.000-08:00

Cory:

the good--He survived a full week being both Mom and Dad while I went to help my mom out after surgery. The house might not have been sparkling clean, and one or two homework assignments may have missed the refining touch of a mother's supervision, but everyone was fed and clothed when I got home. He is finishing up the season as Zachary's basketball coach where he has done a great job. He also has kicked into P90X gear once again and has been steadily losing weight and bulking up muscle. Drat..I guess that means I better get up and go to the gym now.

the bad--Cory lost a cousin in a tragic industrial accident a few weeks ago. Cory was able to drive out to Eastern Utah with his father and sister for the funeral and see many family members he hasn't talked to in years. Rest in peace Cody McMullin.

Cami:

the good--In spite of the fact that my trip to Sparks was facilitated by my mom's emergency hystorectomy, it was a pleasure to spend a quiet week with her and my dad. I was glad that my children are old enough to be left fairly easy and that my husband was at a place in his work where he could sacrifice the time to be at home with them when they got home from school. I also got to spend some memorable moments with all of my siblings except one while I was staying in Nevada. I LOVE my brothers and sisters! It has taken the better part of a week and a half to get my Utah life back in order, but spending the time away has helped me better prioritize my home life and to appreciate my own dear little family.

the bad--My mom's surgery led to the discovery of uterine cancer. However, last week she got the good news that there was not cancer in the lymph nodes which means she will not have to have chemotherapy or radiation and has a very slim chance of any recurrence.

Zachary:

the good--He made it to the Countdown Round of the Chapter Math Counts competition and will most likely be moving on to state. He'll find out for sure at the end of the month. He was called as the Deacons Quorum President and is showing tremendous responsibility in this new calling. It is great to see him take this duty so seriously.

the bad--Between my distraction with my trip and an exceptionally busy holiday season, Zachary found his grades in a few classes crash and burn in the last quarter. Hopefully, this is a chance to learn from mistakes and recommit to finding better organizational strategies.

Noah:

the good--He continues to be a self-motivated, commited student, piano player, and basketball player. We have seen him really shine on his basketball team this season and finally find the competitive drive that lives up to his height and natural athletic ability. He has been working harder than any of the boys on preparing for their March piano assessment and his talent is blossoming.

the bad--Noah procrastinated his Science Fair project until I got back from my trip and discovered we only had a couple of days to pull it all together. After a stressful race to the finish, he pulled it off and got it up and displayed. Then of course, I totally blew it and forgot to go to the school for the actual presentation. The day after all of this stress, Noah casually mentioned to me that the Science Fair was a completely optional assignment!

Isaac:

the good--Isaac has finally found the books that have turned him into a hungry reader! He discovered that he really likes Fablehaven and it is great to see him reading for the pure joy of it for the first time. He also was excited to drive down to St. George with me, Noah, and Isaac to see his cousin Emily get baptized. Cory and Zachary couldn't join us because it was the same day as Zachary's math competition.

the bad--The night before the baptism while staying in St. George, Isaac started throwing up..so we managed to expose 5 different families to a stomach virus.

Anna:

the good--Our little budding artist won in her division for the school Art Express competition. She also independently wrote special Valentine's notes to every member of the family. They were so thoughtful and sweet...she truly is my best example of being kind and loving.

the bad--Anna loves reading and we have recently discovered that she has been staying up a little too late at night to finish books. This has meant a few cranky, hard-to-get-out-of bed mornings.

And now for the ugly...

On-line Performance

2011-01-18T07:31:00.000-08:00

Last night, I caught a television interview with author Sherry Turkle who has written a book titled, Alone Together all about the alienating aspects of technology. Now let me be clear, that I was watching "The Colbert Report" and not CNN, but despite the satirical "interview" and "anything-for-a-laugh" antics of the host, something of what she said penetrated. I have had my own concerns about our technology-driven social environment for some time. As I work with the young women in my ward, I find it humorous but also a little worrisome that they will ignore their ringing cell phones if I try to call them, but will "text" me at lightning speed no matter the time of day. And as we have switched from receiving the newspaper on our porch to reading it off the internet, I have to forcibly ignore the comments that appear at the end of every article. No matter how innocuous the subject of a story may be, it is amazing how people--protected by cyber-anonymity--will twist it into something against which they need to make a vitriolic stand. But the thing that Turkle said last night that has really stuck with me, is that our internet-selves are really just a performance of our real selves. When we post on Facebook or Twitter, it is meant to be a witty and condensed "perfect" version of our real and imperfect life. When we blog our life experiences, the real experience is polished, reviewed, and edited for effect. And keeping this "performance self" up is ultimately emotionally exhausting.

Then today, as I was following one of my "cyber-friends" I came across a link to another woman's blog. This woman is a self-proclaimed feminist, atheist but the point of her "article" on this online magazine was that she finds herself addicted to a number of "mormon mommy blogs." In her self-analysis of why that might be, she pointed out a lot that I have noticed about many of these blogs. The families portrayed in them are perfect...beautiful children, warm and loving husband, homes that look ready to be photographed for a catalog, mothers who spend their days making adorable crafts and home-baked treats. Ultimately, although she condescended to point out that it's true that mormon women have a high regard for and feel fulfilled by their role as wife and mother, she also alluded to this sense of a "performance life" via blogs.

So it has gotten me thinking about my own internet interaction. I think this idea of a "performance self" rings true to me at a certain level. I only post my "status" on Facebook when I have something funny or clever to say. And I appreciate the irony of the fact that I'm sitting here blogging about this of all subjects instead of say, picking up the telephone and talking to a real live person. I'm certain that on the whole, my blog contains the positive spin on my day to day life. I think that's all right...the positive side is no less real than the moments of frustration, dullness, and stupidity. Is it healthier to rant and complain and leave nasty comments at the end of other people's rantings or to try to point out the good side of things? On the other hand, I do see a dangerous tendency in myself as I follow on-line accounts of my "almost-friends" to look at their shiny, perfect lives and feel I am somehow falling short, forgetting that these people are trying to highlight the best of things too.

I know that in my last entry, I made a point about using this blog as a means of family journaling. I'm not sure why I feel compelled to write about this topic, but it feels like an attempt at clarity? honesty? I'm not sure.

In other news, my warm and loving husband recently was made a partner. My children have been doing nothing but saying sweet and charming things around the house these days, and we had the best time this weekend making homemade pretzels and beautiful drawings to hang around the house. There, I hope that fills the requirement.

Resolutions..Take Two

2011-01-05T07:17:00.000-08:00

We had our annual Resolution Family Home Evening this week, and as I thought about what I would try to do better this year in our "academic" area, I knew I had to focus on the blog. I have been so busy in the last year that my writing efforts have been sorely lacking. Obviously the blog has become less of a priority to me, and I have been trying to figure out why. I think I am trying too hard to make it "literary" instead of just journaling the events of my family's life which was the purpose when I started. Also, losing my camera in August somehow has made it harder for me to get going with entries, as if my journal is somehow incomplete without photographic evidence. But enough with it already...I got a new camera for Christmas and I will stop thinking I have to "craft essays" and just record the mundane and glorious details of our day to day family events. So I decided that a reasonable and attainable goal for me this year will be to update the blog at least twice every month. Here's to turning over new leaves, putting a best foot forward, try, try again and all that jazz.

I'll start with a quick update about the Talbot family holidays 2010..

This year we went to St. George for Thanksgiving...the first time in 11 years that I didn't cook the dinner. I LOVE Thanksgiving, and I really do enjoy cooking, but I have to say it was such a nice thing to wake up on Thursday, get in the car, drive for four hours, and walk into an already prepared feast. I did go as far as to make three pies early in the week with my cousin's two oldest daughters, but that was the full extent of my cooking contribution.

We had a nice, relaxing couple of days down south with family...we were hoping for warm but somehow managed to pack the cold Salt Lake temperatures into our luggage and bring them with us.

The first week of December danced us through a tornado of All Nutcracker, all the time. Anna participated in the Children's Nutcracker for her third year in a row, this time in the role of "Gingerell." With two dress rehearsals and three performances there was little time for anything else in the week and the boys were woefully neglected. However, the performance was darling as usual and even Grandma and Grandpa Talbot were able to drive up from Panguitch to attend. Anna was in her element and after the first night when I went to pick her up backstage after the performance, I asked her how it was. She said, "I couldn't stop smiling the whole time I was here!" I've embedded the video of her dress rehearsal here:

Week two brought the 2nd Annual Egg-nog tasting party, Christmas piano camp, Book Club white elephant party, a cookie exchange, a huge history fair project for Zachary to finish, the Ward Christmas Party, and The Stake Christmas Concert. All events had a varying level of success: here's what I learned:

After adding fudge to the egg nog tasting, I gave up on moderating my sugar content in December and it was just downhill from there.
Six hours of group piano lessons in one week might be a bit too much for little boys who have been in school for 7 hours already.
What is exchanged at book club, stays at book club.
After the cookie exchange I asked the question, "is it possible to become diabetic in just 4 days?"
If you'd like to check out Zachary's finished web page, here's the link: 18322336.nhd.weebly.com/
At the ward Christmas party, the Young Women were asked to contribute an "act" so we did a dance that included my kickline debut. Eat your heart out, Rockettes!
I sang "Away in a Manger" at the Stake concert...nobody cried.

Week three was a race to finish two reports for Isaac, make an igloo out of sugar cubes, help in 3 class parties (Did I mention I signed up to be headroom parent in Isaac's class this year?), and have family come stay with us from St. George to attend the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert with David Archuleta. The concert was awesome! And although my older boys did at times read the books they had brought with them during the "boring" songs, they enjoyed it as well. Oh..and the Ward Christmas Sacrament Meeting where I sang one solo, 3 choir numbers, one small ensemble, and a duet. Don't worry, a lot of other people sang and performed as well.

Luckily, the kids were finally out of school the last week of the month. Vacation was a mixture of sleeping in, going to movies, hanging out at home, playing with new Christmas gifts, and eating..a lot!

Christmas Eve we went ice skating again and fortunately this year we didn't end up with anyone in stitches. Isaac was our most improved skater this year, and Anna least. Last year she loved when Cory and I would skate her fast around the rink, but this year she thought we were too fast and kept trying to sit down on the ice to slow us down.

Nobody changed out of their pajamas on Christmas Day and most of the kids didn't quite find the time to play with all their gifts by the end of the day, so I would call that a success.

Cory worked intermittently the week after Christmas and it was nice to have him home so much. Last year on our anniversary, I made reservations at a nice Italian Restaurant downtown. Cory was flying home from San Francisco that day. His flight was delayed, and I had to cancel the reservation. This year I made a reservation at the same Italian place. Then a blizzard forced us to cancel the reservation again. Next year, I think we will try a new place.

New Years' Eve we stayed at home with Aunt Kim and played games and ate snacks. It was mostly good, but proved to be a mistake to let two of our children stay up all the way until midnight. I won't name names, but next year we will do things a little differently.

The kids are all back to school now, and although I was a little sad to have our relaxing break end, they all seem happy to be back in their more structured routines.

Phew! There's one entry down..only 23 to go!

The Midnight Hunt: A Tale of Horror

2010-11-15T07:26:00.000-08:00

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!

2010-10-25T05:59:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-04T19:56:00.001-07:00

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

2010-09-09T08:03:00.001-07:00

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

2010-08-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-02T07:06:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-10T14:31:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-01T17:32:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-25T11:36:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-06-19T15:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-18T15:16:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-05-27T17:44:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-21T07:00:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-13T06:06:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-23T14:53:00.001-07:00

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

2010-03-17T06:30:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-05T12:53:00.000-08:00

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.

2010-02-25T13:27:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-28T06:22:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-12T06:56:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-01T17:08:00.001-08:00

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!

A Christmas Eve Waiting Room Crisis...Averted

2009-12-28T18:16:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas to all my friends and family! We have had a nice holiday weekend, and although Cory headed back to San Francisco last night, he will be coming home tomorrow in time for the anniversary.

Our Christmas day was fun and quiet. For me, a successful Christmas means that I stay in my pajamas...all day...so this year was first-rate.

However, as much as I love to stay in my jammies on Christmas...every year I have a deep psychological need to go do something on Christmas Eve. Something that does not include any kind of shopping! Often, in past years, we have gone to the movies on Christmas Eve. This is fun, but this year there wasn't really anything our whole family was interested in seeing. This new family phase we're in means we have little kids and near teenagers...and neither the interests of the twain shall meet. So this year, I suggested ice skating instead. It was great! It felt so good to get out and do something physical. Anna loved being swished around the rink with Dad on one side and me on the other. The boys picked it up fairly quickly. I found myself smiling non-stop. There's something about feeling clumsy and on the verge of crashing at all times that brings a smile to my face I guess.

After about an hour on the ice, I said to Cory, "This is great! I think we should make this a new family tradition." As we rounded the corner, we noticed Zachary and Noah on the side. We stopped to see if they were okay and discovered that Noah had slipped and split his chin open.

We managed to get the whole tribe out in the lobby to look at the cut more closely, and determined it would likely need stitches. Cory called his friend who happens to work in the ER of the hospital across the street from the rink to see if he was working that day. I took the other 3 children back to the ice for a promised "one last time around." When I got back, Cory said his friend was not working, but that he was heading to his parents' house in Sandy for Christmas Eve and told us to meet him there so he could stitch it up for us.

What? No endless wait in an emergency room waiting area to ruin what had started out as a delightful family holiday? What a blessing! Thanks Koy! You are the best! Maybe next year we'll go back to the movies.

Counting Blessings

2009-12-23T05:56:00.000-08:00

It's too close to Christmas to leave my last, complaining entry up so today I choose to acknowledge the blessings of the past few days.

Our family was given the challenge on November 1st to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year. That's fast. Really fast. But I can number two blessings in just this week that have only happened because of this invitation. The first happened, when I went to Noah's class Christmas party. The kids were sitting quietly in their classroom reading while the moms got everything ready for the party. I looked over, and my 10-year-old son had brought his scriptures to school so that he could "catch up." I was both surprised and impressed...what a blessing for him and for me. I can certainly learn from his example. The second blessing came on Monday afternoon, as I was cleaning the kitchen and Zachary and I had a great discussion about what he had just read from the Book of Mormon. It was casual and simple, but somehow profound. What a blessing to share this with my children this holiday season.

Last night, I drove the youth downtown in the middle of a snowstorm to deliver our wrapped Sub for Santa gifts. We brought our loads into a small apartment...smaller than the first apartment Cory and I lived in when we got married. This family has somehow squeezed 4 children into this space, with another baby due in February. That alone turned my earlier bitterness into sheepishness. There's so much I take for granted. But they had such a kind, humble, grateful and HAPPY feeling in their home. It was a blessing to meet them.

Then, when I got home late from dropping the girls off, I came home to an anonymously shoveled driveway. This is no small blessing, because when I left last evening at 6:45, there were 8 inches and it snowed the whole time we were gone. At first I thought Zachary had done it, because his Sub for Santa group got home before mine, but he said the driveway was still covered when he got home. Our kind elf works fast.

Especially today I am grateful that Cory will be home tonight and tomorrow we can pull our family together and talk and sing together about the real reason for this holiday. Because He is my greatest blessing.

Bah Humbug, Last-Minute Travel Edition

2009-12-21T06:14:00.000-08:00

Timeline of Christmas events in the Talbot household...

Thursday, December 17, 3:14 p.m. The FINAL Christmas purchase is in my hands.

Thursday, 4:45 p.m. Everything is officially wrapped.

Thursday, 4:46 p.m. Call Cory and brag that everything is done!

Thursday, 4:47 p.m. Cory shares the great news that he taking the entire next week off.

Thursday, 5:00 p.m. Prepare dinner and beam at wonderful children...take a sip of their Christmas excitement.

Thursday, 6:02 p.m. Cory calls with news of possible travel to San Francisco.

Thursday, 6:14 p.m. Cory calls to say he's on his way home...to pack. He's leaving for the airport in the morning, will be back late Saturday night, will leave again Monday and be back on Christmas Eve.

Thursday, 6:15 p.m. come fairly close to an expletive.

Saturday, December 19 Grouchy, mean mom rules supreme.

Sunday, December 20 Cory shares the news he will now also be traveling December 28-30. Our anniversary is December 29. Spitting ensues.

I'm trying to find the cheerful, funny, unselfish way to look at all of this, but it's not happening. Too mad. Everyone pray for my kids.

Sub For Santa

2009-12-19T18:02:00.000-08:00

Every year, the youth in our ward (neighborhood church group) participate in a December service project to provide Christmas gifts to needy families in Salt Lake City.

Every year, from Thanksgiving forward, the church bulletin asks for contributions from church members young and old..our leaders talk about it in our meetings and interviews..the youth are reminded to contribute as well. It's a nice tradition.

In our 2 1/2 years in the neighborhood, I've been vaguely aware of this annual event. Admittedly, I have always had good intentions to contribute but as a terminal procrastinator have sometimes missed the deadline. This year was different. This year I was in charge.

I coordinated with a woman in my neighborhood who is currently serving a mission to help families in inner-city Salt Lake. She helped identify 5 families with extra need this year. Then, with the help of my bishop (church leader) I divided up the donations and put cash in envelopes designated for all 23 people on our list. We handed the cash to youth leaders and sent them out with young men and women aged 12-18 to shop for specific individuals. Each child had prepared a wish list...most of them humbling. They asked for things like warm pajamas, socks, and a jingle bell.

At this stage, my inexperience in this process became apparent. I sent each group out with one kitchen garbage bag to put their purchased gifts in. Here are the gifts we ended up with...

We needed a few more bags.

It was wonderful to see the enthusiasm in the young people as they looked for the "perfect" gift. Then a week later, those same enthusiastic youth showed up to wrap presents for 2 hours. This week, we will load up in cars and drive downtown to make a special delivery.

As I have planned and coordinated the details of this event, my primary objective has been for the young people to have a meaningful experience. I'm impressed my how motivated, unselfish, and service-minded this generation can be. So far their example has been far more meaningful for me than anything I have done for their benefit.

Nutcracker...Again

2009-12-12T06:43:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was Anna's second debut in the "Children's Nutcracker." This year she was upgraded from "mouse" to "doll." Still very cute, but I must say that the mice once again stole the show...especially when in the middle of their performance, one little mouse made her way to the front of the stage and very calmly, and cheerfully called out, "Mom? Mom? Hey...Mom?"

My little dolly was the star of the night for me. She was very excited that Daddy brought her pink roses this year, and Mommy gave her a present...ballet slippers Christmas tree ornament, and a teeny-tiny pink doll for our sweet Anna-doll.

M.I.A.

2009-12-04T21:42:00.000-08:00

I'd like to tell you a story about how grateful I am at this time of year, as my family sat down together to celebrate another bountiful Thanksgiving. But I can't, because I am just way too busy, shopping, cleaning, cooking, and eating. I've got two words for you...ten pies.

So I'd like to tell you a story about how fun it is to have wonderful friends come all the way from Phoenix to spend a whirlwind week in my home. Ooh, but I can't, because I stayed up way too late every night they were here, and I still haven't gotten around to all the laundry since they left.

In that case, I'll tell you the story about a week where every day I had to call a repairman of one kind or another. But I won't...because...it's just too expensive.

Maybe you'd settle for the plain old boring story about another round of colds making it's way through my household. I'll get to that when I stop feeling so crummy.

Guess you'll have to settle with the story about how my Christmas decorations are all up, my shopping is all done, and my packages are all mailed. That's a good one. Too bad it's fiction.

In the meantime...I'm hanging in there. I hope you are too.

Another Noah Birthday

2009-11-18T07:29:00.000-08:00

Noah's birthday came and went with relatively little notice in my life last week. It just so happened to fall on a Tuesday night...I have Young Women activities on Tuesday...and it just so happened that this particular Tuesday was also YW in Excellence-a kind of recognition night for the girls 12-18 in my ward (Church denomination). So poor Noah kind of got shuffled to the back of responsibilities that day. I did manage to bring a special lunch and eat with him at school. I did not find the time to cook a special birthday dinner so Dad picked up his favorite pizza on the way home from work. I did make a chocolate birthday cake with chocolate frosting. (Only those people who know how much I hate chocolate cake and chocolate frosting will appreciate the amount of self-sacrifice this entails.) I did not make it home in time to watch him blow out the candles. I did choose some fun gifts for him. I did not actually purchase them, but left that to Dad via his pizza delivery route. Fortunately, Noah is such a sensible, responsible, cheerful person that none of this bothered him in the slightest and he still had a nice day for his golden birthday. (He turned 10 on the 10th!)

For the sake of record-keeping, I'm going to acknowledge all things Noah at this age in his life.
Favorite color: blue
Favorite food: any type of seafood
Favorite flavor of birthday cake: chocolate, chocolate, chocolate (really, it's not fair that 5 out of 6 birthdays around here I have to make a chocolate cake.)
Favorite hobby: READING! (He reads an entire book almost every day)
Favorite sports team: BYU
Favorite sport to play: basketball
Best friend: Jaden
Current obsession: The "Warriors" series, and passing off all his times tables before anyone else in class
Favorite subject in school: P.E.
Quality in Noah that I am most grateful for: Responsibility...he's the only one in the house who doesn't need to be reminded to get his chores done, who never loses things, and who actually comes to me with school stuff that needs to be signed instead of leaving it to me to dig out of his backpack 3 weeks past the deadline.
Cool things accomplished this year: He earned a superior at AIM, his annual piano adjudication. He sang a solo (beautifully) in the Primary Program, he had perfect grades every quarter of the last year, he scored a touchdown at every single flag football game this year, he earned his Bear in Cub Scouts, he placed 3rd in high jump at his summer track meet

Tool Day

2009-11-05T07:14:00.000-08:00

As I sit in my office typing, a whirl of falling leaves keep drawing my attention to the window. The fall in Utah has been spectacular this year. After living in a land of no Autumn for so many years it came as something of a revelation my first year in Utah that I had missed this season somewhere deep in my sub-concious. As papery, brittle leaves of yellow and bronze keep flapping across my peripheral vision, it feels like a metaphor for my life this week. I am blowing in so many directions that it feels almost out of control. But despite the wild nature of my frenzy, there is something beautiful in the commotion. Life is full; making goals, meeting demands, entering the fray.

Last month, I got the annual flyer/request for "Tool Day" from the Elementary School. Every year, they invite parents to come to the school and talk to students about their careers and tools of the trade. We have never participated, so guilt started prickling at the back of my neck. I began my campaign to get Cory into the school. As I prepared to discuss this with him, knowing how busy his work schedule is right now, I realized that I have a career too. In some twisted version of women's liberation reflex, I signed up to come share with 4 classrooms the tricks of my trade as a homemaker. Little did I realize that the week of presentation would coincide with the perfect storm of family events, rehearsals, and deadlines.

Still, I had made a commitment, so Tuesday morning found me gathering up my "tools" and heading down the hill to Oak Hollow Elementary. I shared with them the perils of a career in homemaking...no vacations, long hours, very few promotions. I let them handle the tools of my business...dust rags, measuring cups, first aid kits, checkbooks, the burgeoning calendar. And somewhere about halfway through my 2nd presentation, I realized something. I have been so caught up in the pressures and "busy-ness" of my day to day survival that I have begun to forget something important. I love my job.

Pinewood Derby

2009-10-22T07:57:00.000-07:00

Last week was our annual Cub Scout Pinewood Derby. For anyone who has never had the privilege of participating in this boyhood rite of passage, I am here to tell you what you are missing.

1. 1 month to get the car finished, and yet 99.9 percent of the work gets done the night before.

2. Blowdryers running right up until the minute we leave to dry the paint job.

3. 8-year-olds executing feats of engineering around the level of the average M.I.T. student.

4. Fathers insisting that their scout really did most of the work themselves.

5. 30 families crammed around a 20 foot race track.

6. 30 dads discussing the finer points of "bracket-ology."

7. And the noise, oh the noise!

8. 250 lectures...MOM: You need to be a good sport even if you win/lose

9. WINNING CUB SCOUT: niener, niener, niener

10. LOSING CUB SCOUT: tears

11. 2 hours of chaos and pandemonium in order to watch your son's car race exactly twice for a total of 7 seconds.

12. Awards Ceremony..every car gets a certificate..even if it means awarding a prize for "most creative use of duct tape."

13. After the hours of work, and the meaningful award, car and certificate have disappeared--never to be seen again--within 24 hours.

14. Next year we get to make 2 cars.

What will I do when all my little cub scouts are grown? There's nothing quite like the spectacle of grown men competing vicariously through their sons. Despite the madness of the event, I really will miss this someday.

Feline-anthropy

2009-10-13T15:56:00.000-07:00

Meet Grendel.

He is loyal, affectionate, and despite the threatening look of his underbite..gentle. I am the sun about which he orbits. He daily aspires to simply lay at my feet. When I say jump, he says, how high. He would throw himself in front of a bullet for me.

And here is Cheezit. He is superior, aloof and infinitely bored. He interacts with me on his terms only. He allows me to feed him and occasionally to pet him.

So why is it, I like the cat so much more than the dog? I guess I'm that girl who always liked the guy who wasn't really interested. Figures.

It also doesn't hurt that the cat is the only other creature in my home who can clean himself.

ADHD Awareness Week

2009-09-17T11:18:00.000-07:00

This week CHADD is sponsoring an ADHD awareness week. Raising a child with ADHD is a trial not just because they have special and challenging needs, but also because the mountains of misinformation and misunderstanding that are out there to add an extra staggering burden. When I hear other mothers say things like, "My nephew has ADHD, but really his parents just don't ever discipline him," or "People just use ADHD as an excuse to medicate their children so they don't have to be a real parent," I want to cry. (I have heard both statements verbatim and in other variations more times than I can count.) I try not to be too sensitive, but there is an intrinsic loneliness that is part of my experience. If I told someone my son had Diabetes, they would respond with compassion; often when I mention I'm dealing with ADHD I can feel underlying judgment and cynicism. Can you imagine how you would feel if you said to someone, "My child has asthma," and they responded by saying, "Oh, that is so over-diagnosed?"

So, as a public service to all 3 of you who read my blog, I'm listing a helpful website to hopefully draw attention to this disorder and help you become more informed. Information is power! As many as 1 in 10 children is affected by this, so it wouldn't hurt for us all to learn a little something about it. CHADD is a non-profit organization committed to research, support, and understanding of children and adults dealing with ADHD. Do me a favor and look them up. http://www.chadd.org At the very least, keep an open mind, and try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. And the next time you come across a mom who mentions her struggles with ADHD, offer her support and sympathy without judgment.

Now I will step off the soapbox and return to my regular blog programming.

Finding Myself in the Living History Farm

2009-09-10T06:46:00.000-07:00

The canning of peaches is officially behind me now, so I can devote a minute to something else...before I pick up the tomatoes tomorrow.

I still have vacation stories to tell. Shortly after our arrival in Des Moines, my mother-in-law took us to visit the Living History Farm near where she lives. It's an outdoor museum of agriculture that traces the history of farming practices from the earliest Native American settlements through the present day. Okay, I just read my last sentence, and I was asleep with boredom by the end. This place is the very opposite of boring. You walk along a loop of land where they have set up real working farms from different periods of history. There are actors at each place to tell you about their "lives" from other centuries and to provide hands-on opportunities. It's absorbing and fascinating.

In the 1850s farm, this man introduced us to his oxen...and their ear wax. Apparently this was used as an early form of lip balm. My boys especially enjoyed this particular nugget of information.

I was particularly affected by the 1900 Farm.

In 1904 my grandfather was born in Cardiff, Kansas. I have seen pictures of his family's farmstead from this period of time. To come across this tidy little barn and home at a museum in Iowa was both foreign and familiar.

And although I fear coming across as overly sentimental, I somehow felt more connected to both my grandfather.. and to my grandmother who was born 13 years later in Ponca, Nebraska but who must have lived a rural life very much like the one depicted in this faithful simulation.

Here in the parlor of the farmhome, it was hot and humid. I could almost imagine the life of my ancestors as they sat in here on a summer Sunday afternoon, swatting flies.

The kids enjoyed visiting the animals in the barn, and trying out the early farm equipment. We even walked past the stump where the "famers" had beheaded a chicken for their meal that afternoon. It's all very authentic. When we toured the home, the women were in the kitchen washing dishes with water they brought in from the well.

And though I'm grateful to live in a time of dishwashers and drive-throughs, I enjoyed finding myself in my own family past for a day.

And They're Off!

2009-09-02T06:20:00.000-07:00

I still have a couple of entries to write about our end of summer marathon trip, but the kids all have started back to school now, and I thought I'd better post while the posting was good.

In other news, the peaches in our trees have started dropping onto the ground so it's back to Canning Season. So, yeah, I'm getting 4 kids back to school in the middle of a sticky peachy mess...I don't really recommend it.

Zachary started junior high last Wednesday.

He has to get up pretty early in the morning so that Dad can drive him at 7:00. This worked out fine for 3 days, and then the novelty wore off. This morning, his alarm went off at 6:30. At 6:45 I came in from my run and it was still going off...he slept right through. Still, he feels like pretty big stuff. It's a new school and he doesn't know a single person, but it hasn't fazed him. Hopefully he'll make some friends and figure out the ropes quickly.

Noah has a brand new teacher in her very first year of teaching. After meeting her at Meet the Teacher Night, I think this will prove to be both good and bad. Boundless enthusiasm...zero experience...you do the math.

Isaac started school 2 days before the rest of the kids. He and Anna both got into a Charter School, so it's a new school for him this year as well. Luckily, he's such a cheerful, easy-going kid that he has blended right into his classroom already. Although he misses his old friends, for now he says he likes this school better. I know many people have very strong feelings about public school/charter school debates so I choose not to address the hot-button topic for now. Anyway, it's only been a week, so I don't have a long enough experience to weigh in yet.

Anna is heading to her 3rd day of Kindergarten this afternoon. She lo-o-o-oves it! She has a hard time waiting all the long hours until after lunch when she can go. As for me. I have been strangely stoic about the whole thing. This has been the only time I have not cried after dropping off a Kindergartner on the first day. I think I've been anticipating this adjustment for so long that it doesn't seem that hard now that it's here. It helps that she's home with me half the day still. Cory called the first afternoon and asked if I was lonely. I told him she's so independent and quiet while she's at home with me, that it really didn't seem any different while she is gone. Maybe that's just because I'm so busy with peaches. And coming straight from vacation to back to school has made the whole experience a little surreal this year. Anyway, it's hard to feel very sad when she is so happy.

Our State Fair is a Great State Fair

2009-08-26T14:31:00.001-07:00

When I planned this marathon trip back in the confines of winter, I had one thing on my agenda: the Iowa State Fair. There are, after all, not one but 2 musicals devoted to this event. This is America's Fair; the fairgrounds comprise an entire town. I feel it is the obligation of every patriotic American to shill out large amounts of money for greasy food and spotty rides.

So early on a Monday morning we found ourselves amidst the great unwashed masses (don't be offended, I'm referring to my children and the pigs...on second thought, the pigs were pretty clean).

I'm proud to say that I fully accomplished my agenda for the day:
1. Visit the barns
2. Eat a pork chop on a stick
3. Check out the winners of the Ugly Cake contest
4. Eat something deep-fried
5. Witness the famous marvel that is the butter cow
6. Eat cotton candy

I think it is very important to set and reach lofty goals.

Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for...will it be a Guernsey, a Holstein? This year's exhibit is the Jersey cow! I'm sure you all know that the Jersey is not as prolific a milk producer as other cows, but her milk has a very high cream content, making it perfect for ice cream, yogurt and cheese. This message was brought to you by the Iowa Dairy Farmers Association...thank you. (Please ignore my hair...I was fighting the war on humidity. I lost. Actually, I surrendered 20 minutes into our Midwest arrival.)

Once we made it through my formidable list of required activities, we were free to enjoy the rest of the unusually mild summer day. I asked the kids what their favorite things were at the end of the day, and of course they all said, "the rides." There's nothing quite like a $4 merry-go-round ride I guess. Although, I will say that the squeaky, rusty, tilting nature of all carnival rides does lend an aspect of daring rarely seen outside a demolition derby.

Zachary and Noah managed to survive the "Reign of Fire" without losing their deep-fried Snickers bar. It was touch and go there for about an hour.

But over-priced, under-inspected rides aside, there were some other highlights as well.

Anna loved the miniature horse show. She tried to convince me that they were small enough to keep in our backyard; we could just tell the neighbors that we got a new dog.

Isaac enjoyed the Wild West roping show we watched in the afternoon. He stayed afterwards to learn how to spin a lasso. He made a pretty respectable showing for a city kid.

Noah got up close and personal with a variety of animals...cows, pigs, horses...and camels... you know, just the standard farm breeds you come to expect in Iowa.

Zachary enjoyed the chance to practice the bored, unenthusiastic scowl of a teenager.

(Can I just say that my favorite part about this picture is the "do not touch" sign?)

Aunt Kim was worried the butter cow would be a let-down after all the hype, but luckily a cow carved entirely out of butter is totally able to meet all your expectations...and more!

I found myself surprisingly delighted with all the homemade food entries...you know...the pies and preserves. There were rows and rows and rows of different categories! It was all so wholesome...like stepping into the 1950s minus the poodle skirts. Sure wish I could have been on the tasting committee!

Cory fulfilled a life-long ambition of trying a deep-fried Twinkie. It was especially entertaining to listen to his arteries clog.

Grandma found the elusive Iowa State Fair, 2009 pin.

Grandpa ran into his missionaries and was able to get his picture with a giant, stuffed Spiderman.

All in all, a succesful outing.

So in conclusion...

Our State Fair is a great state fair
Don't Miss it don't even be late(state fair is great)
It's dollars to doughnuts at our state fair
It's the best state fair.. in our state

Winter Quarters

2009-08-25T16:51:00.000-07:00

In the year 1846, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints were driven from their homes in Nauvoo, Illinois. Church leaders hoped to lead the people across the frontier to a new home in the Salt Lake valley of Utah where they would be free to follow the tenets of their faith without persecution. They had hoped to complete the trek in just 4 months; it took them that long just to cross Iowa. They gained permission to establish a temporary winter settlement for two years. This place--near current Omaha, Nebraska--became known as "Winter Quarters." The people, led by their faith worked quickly to construct hundreds of log cabins and sod homes. Despite their courage and efforts, the winter proved to be devastating to the weakened condition of many people. In the 2 years spent in this temporary staging area for the trek to Utah, over 325 people died from starvation and disease. Only a handful of families were left untouched by death.

To tour the Visitors' Center of this historic site was sobering. We struggled to fit my little family of 6 comfortably into a cabin erected in the center that would have been for twice that many people. My children giggled over their struggle to pull a handcart over some rocks. It was funny, but also revealing.

We briefly toured the cemetery and memorial outside the visitors' center. There were so many babies listed on that plaque. So many mothers. And now, that consecrated ground is shadowed by this...

The place where my faith teaches we can unite families beyond death.

Seems fitting.

Bear With Me..

2009-08-24T16:23:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a 10 day vacation and I have a whole lotta traveling stories to purge..I mean journal. We traveled over 1200 miles so there's a lot of ground to cover. I think I'll shoot for one story every day until I make myself so sick of rehashing that I can let it go. But while the memories are fresh...

We decided to make the long trek to Des Moines, IA to visit the in-laws this year by car instead of plane. I had this brilliant idea that this would be a great chance to stop and visit all the wonderful church history sites between Salt Lake and Nauvoo. I failed to recognize that this "brilliant" plan meant 5 of the 10 days of our vacation would include a large amount of time in the car. Still, I decided to make the best of things by breaking up the trip a little. Which is what led us to...

The "Great River Road Archway Monument!"

This is a museum in Kearney, Nebraska built directly over I-80 that is dedicated to all eras of western migration. When you enter, the staff dressed in period costumes direct you up a long escalator to start your "tour." You wear headsets that play repeating broadcasts that change as you move throughout the rooms. What you hear depends on what mannequin display you happen to be standing near.

It was noisy, hokey, and mildly informative. I loved every second! This is classic Americana at its finest...Disneyland, eat your heart out!

Zachary cried when we had to leave.

So if you ever find yourself in "middle of nowhere," Nebraska. Don't let the chance to visit this little gem pass you by. It was worth every single penny!

It Turns Out I'm Not Getting More Patient

2009-08-02T19:34:00.000-07:00

I've posted a lot in the last year about the changes in my home life as my children are growing up. It's strange how quickly and suddenly you can find yourself worrying more about your children's Internet habits than their toilet habits.

So as I get ready to embark on an empty household in September, I have found myself feeling older and wiser--one of those moms with sage advice for women still dealing with preschoolers and potty-training. I'm feeling more calm and patient every day.

And then I took the kids back to school shopping.

By myself.

All 4 of them.

At the same time.

I guess it's been a while since I went anywhere by myself with all of my offspring because I was caught completely by surprise when after 14 minutes of shopping I was ready to abandon every last one of them. Seriously. I looked in my purse to see if I had any paper with which to make "child for sale" signs. I could only come up with a crayon and a gum-wrapper. Dang.

Now just the day before I watched some poor lady at the grocery store wrestling 3 little boys...one was crying, one was fighting, and one was attempting to set the deli on fire. I chuckled to myself about boy how glad I am those days are behind me. Then I patted the 1 child who was with me and told them since they were being so good, the could pick out a candy bar.

I guess some people can humble themselves; I, on the other hand, much prefer being compelled to be humble.

So after 5 hours, 4 stores, 2 potty breaks (I guess you never really get a break from their toilet habits after all), and $450 we are nearly done. No one got a candy bar, although I did hear Zachary at one point telling his siblings to "act like little angels" in the next store in hopes of a reward. Alas, they misinterpreted his well-intentioned speech and behaved exactly like little angels of darkness.

So much for all my smug thoughts that I was really learning to be a more patient, careful, soft-spoken, and compassionate mother. I wonder if there were any moms of older children watching my spontaneously combustible family and chuckling to themselves about how they remember those days. If so, they better watch out. Karma is not a patient lady either.

How To Host A Family Reunion

2009-07-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

Step 1: Choosing When to have the Family Reunion

Start looking for a date that will work for everyone in January.

In February, when only one person has gotten back to you about summer dates, send 143 emails and phone messages to pin down the rest of the family.

In March, just give up on some of these people ever getting back to you and go ahead and set a date.

Tell everyone the dates and location and give them 24 hours to respond before the site gets booked and paid for.

Now they will all get back to you.

Make another 487 phone calls and discover that your family is just way too busy for this to ever work.

Pick a date anyway.

Be prepared to hear a lot of moaning and complaining about this not being a convenient time. Ignore it and move to step 2.

Step 2: Pick a location

Camping sounds fun...fresh air, beautiful surroundings, communing with nature....$9 a person.

Internet search for group sites and choose one that will accomodate 23 people, 7 cars, is less than 30 minutes away from modern conveniences, has plumbed bathrooms, a firepit and is breath-takingly beautiful.

Do this all site unseen and cross your fingers that what looks good online looks good in person.

Phew!!

Step 3: Make assignments

Assign each family 1 meal and 1 activity. Be prepared for more complaining about convenience. Just smile and hold firm.

The food will be wonderful. Every family will pull out all the stops, and you will eat until you are sick. And as an added bonus, on your night for cooking your brother turns out to be a "foil dinner" control freak and will take over all of the work to make sure it gets done "right." Sit back, relax and eat up.

Step 4: Gather the family

If they're all gathering at your house...here's a piece of advice. Don't waste your time cleaning up before they get there.

Step 5: Pack

Set aside at least 12 hours for this step. Pack and load everything it might be conceivable you will need. After 12 hours, discover you need at least 3 more. Give up and just throw everything in the back of somebody's vehicle. Get up to camp and discover 14 things you forgot. Congratulate yourself for choosing a site only 10 miles from home.

Step 6: Set up Camp

2 schools of thought on this:
Method 1-Work together as a family...discover you may have too many chiefs and not enough Indians...after a little dysfunctional fun, manage to get a tent up and sleeping bags unrolled.

Method 2-Help unload all the gear to the site, put one person in charge, send everyone else on a hike.

Step 7: Social Director

Discover that everyone expects you to have every minute of this trip planned.

Go for hikes. (Drag your 60-year-old father up the side of a mountain to view a hidden alpine lake)

Plan easier hikes for the younger set. Drag them up a series of switchbacks to see another hidden alpine lake.
Prepare some campfire activities.

Set up crafts for the restless natives.

Bring lots of games and firewood. Lay in a supply of not-too-scary ghost stories.

Have a wonderful time! Come home and spend 3 weeks unearthing your demolished home and digging out from a mountain of laundry. Vow that next time someone else will be in charge.

Where I've Been and What I've Been Doing

2009-07-14T16:08:00.000-07:00

Tie-dyed 65 first-graders' t-shirts...check.

Helped out in 3 field days...check, check and check.

Dragged my sixth-grader to the end-of-the-year finish line..complete with a successful country report...just barely.

Present and accounted for at said sixth-grader's awards assembly...check...sniff.

Welcomed all 23 members of my family into my home over the 4th of July weekend...check.

Fireworks in Provo...totally overrated, but check.

Cousin's baby's blessing...whoops...but I did make it for the potluck afterwards.

Spearheaded Frey Family reunion at campgrounds in Tanners Flat...check...worth every filthy piece of laundry!

Attended last day and night of Girls' Camp...check...although I think the term "camp" is being thrown around pretty loosely here.

Home, showered, packed and on a flight to Monterey, CA...check.

Attended wedding of high school friend, Jon Pabico...check...thanks for the mini high-school reunion, Jon!

Flew home from Monterey...flight cancelled.

Unplanned drive to San Francisco Airport...check.

Flew home from San Francisco...check...it was touch and go there at the end.

Welcomed both my sisters and their families to my house...check.

Started overwhelming task of digging out my house...check.

Emotional meltdown...check, check and check.

Cub Scout Day Camp...tomorrow and the next day.

Youth Conference...Thursday through Saturday.

Prepared mini-class for Youth Conference...yeah, right.

Relaxed and enjoyed summer "vacation".........................

When I Was Your Age

2009-06-28T19:54:00.000-07:00

We spent a few hours working in our backyard this weekend. We didn't run out of work. In fact, we are likely less than 1/4 of our way through weeding alone. We didn't run out of time. It was the one and only Saturday of our entire summer that isn't already planned. We just ran out of room in the garbage can.

We also did not run out of character-building, back-breaking, whine-inducing labor for our children. Oh, how I love to torture them. And to make the time go faster, I found myself telling them, "when I was your age stories." You know the type...walked uphill 5 miles to school, was expected to be seen and not heard...your basic childhood fables. Imagine my surprise in discovering that I had actual real-life memories for the respective ages of all four of my children! Boy did that make me feel old. So I tried to choose my most vivid memory from each of their ages. This is what I came up with.

When I was 5 years old, I couldn't wait for my very first show and tell in Mrs. Ringer's a.m. Kindergarten class. Although I was painfully shy (I swear this part is not fabricated. Ask my parents if you don't believe me.) I eagerly anticipated the chance to show the Indian-head penny that my grandfather had given to me. In our class, on show and tell day, you put your items on the show and tell table at the beginning of the day. Then, in the afternoon, after naptime...(again I'm serious...I can't believe they took this out of the Kindergarten curriculum) our teacher would call children up one at a time to take their item from the table and share it with the class. As the grand event approached, I shyly (seriously!) raised my hand and waited my turn. Mrs. Ringer called on one child and then another and then another. Finally she called on a little boy who found his way to the show and tell table and then dawdled there for several minutes, fingering this item and that. Finally, after some coaxing from the teacher, he picked up my Indian-head penny, marched to the front of the class and told everyone some fascinating story about his penny! I was filled with rage and disappointment, but when Mrs. Ringer asked me if I had something to share, I was too submissive and quiet to stand up for myself, so with tears in my eyes, I told her no. At the end of the day, I picked up my penny and took it home, so at least the villain of the lie didn't go so far as to steal my penny...just my moment. And for nearly 30 years, that little boy got away with it...but today I will finally take back my right and name names. That's right, Aaron McClelland, I know who you are! And by the way, your show and tell story was so obviously contrived...you weren't fooling anyone!

When I was 7 years old we went to visit my cousins in Utah for the summer. I have a cousin who is exactly a month older than me, and although we were always good buddies when we saw each other, there was an edge of competition that tainted our every interaction. The first day at his house, we went outside where he grabbed his bike ready to ride the half block to his grandparents' home. He asked me if I wanted to go with him. I told him I didn't have a bike. He told me I could ride his sister's bike, and then in what I interpreted was a taunting manner asked, "You know how to ride a two-wheeler don't you?" Ooh, the challenge in his tone! Well of course I told him I could ride a bike...never mind the fact that I had never up until that moment been able to ride a two-wheeler in my life. He was NOT getting the best of me. He wheeled the bike around, I climbed on...and took off down the road with an air of nonchalance...even boredom. I guess I can pinpoint my competitive streak and stubborn nature to this exchange. I rode bikes with him that whole week. The only down side was that I never got to show off to my parents, "hey, look, guys! I'm riding a bike!" because such a display would undermine my whole triumph.

When I was 9 years old, I saved the quarter my mom put into my lunch for milk money every day. Then at the end of the week when I had 5 quarters, I would walk down to the 7-11 at the end of our street and use my $1.25 to buy 3 candy bars. I don't know what part of this memory is the most disturbing...the fact that I basically stole money from my parents every day or that I walked down a busy street to a convenience store completely by myself at the age of 9.

When I was 12 years old, my mom picked me up from school early on my birthday. As a surprise, she drove me to a beauty salon to get my ears pierced. The lady at the shop showed me a basket of different stud earrings to choose from for the piercing, and I really wanted the diamond ones. However, my older sister had gotten diamond earrings when she had her ears pierced and I knew that she would somehow lord it over me if I chose them. Besides, at this age I hated having the same things as everyone else around me...I wanted my own thing...so instead I just grabbed a random pair out of the basket. They turned out to be topaz which I hated. I didn't like orange at all, but for the next 6 weeks, I wore them and swore to anyone who might question my selection how much I loved topaz. The day I could change my earrings for the first time, I took the topaz studs out and never wore them again. As I remember this, I can't really verbalize my reasoning for this life choice...I just sense that there was a feeling of self-sacrifice implicit in it somehow. Weird, huh?

Anyway, for what their worth, the stories got us through 2 hours of weeding. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find my college textbook on psychoanalysis. It appears I'm completely neurotic.

Ragnar Repeat

2009-06-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

I don't have any pictures to post of our relay race yet, but just wanted to shout out to the blogosphere that I survived and had a great time despite the fact that my definition of "fun" includes 12 people running for 30 hours straight.

Here are my personal stats.

Leg 5-7.4 miles up Avon Pass. Hot. Dusty. Dirt road staight uphill. 1 hour 19 minutes.

Leg 17-4.4 miles. Gradual incline. Beautiful outskirts of Morgan. Rolling fields. Cooler early evening air. Every step I've taken this day has been uphill. What's the deal? 41 minutes exactly.

3 hours of sleep.

Leg 28-3.8 miles. 6-ish in the morning. Cool storm-clouds ahead. Had to swap an injured runner. Wasn't planning on this one. First 2 1/2 miles straight down mountain at Jordanelle. 8% grade. Pound. Pound. Pound. 32 minutes, 20 seconds.

Hurt everywhere. Loved every second.

Home. Showered. 13 hours of sleep. Not running again for a week.

The Wall

2009-06-16T08:47:00.000-07:00

My husband has been working 18 hour days for the last 4 weeks. This usually means he gets home after I am asleep and leaves again before I am awake or while I am out running in the morning. I pretend he's out of town, but the illusion is hard to stick to when I'm still doing his laundry and cleaning up his breakfast. He is finishing up his trial this week so hopefully by the weekend he will exist in our lives again, but for now I am officially finished with this whole single mom business.

I should probably be feeling more compassion for my poor husband. After all, he's working horrible hours including every weekend for the past month. I should definitely have more respect for women around the world who are single mothers for every day of their lives. At the very least, I should be more understanding of my children who are desperately missing their daddy. But yesterday I finally hit the wall. So although I know I should buck up and count my blessings, I'm giving myself the next 2 hours (and 2 minutes) to wallow in my own self-pity. That's how much longer Anna's friends will be here playing with her and filling her social needs. Then it's back to the "All Mom, All the Time, Variety Hour."

The months of May and June have been overflowing with "extras" in school, sports, piano, dance and my Young Women's calling. I have been the taxi, cheerleader, coach, whip-cracker, teacher, CEO, and nurse. It feels like there is nothing left of me to give, but I know that in 1 hour and 54 minutes, I have to put my smile back on and head out to the store to pick up the eclairs for Zachary's oral report on France, the cleats for Noah's track meet, the groceries, snacks for field day, a prescription, presents for two birthday parties, and something for Father's Day not only for my husband, but for my dad and my father-in-law. And when I get back I get to look forward to yet another afternoon and evening of getting kids where kids need to be, motivating (translation yelling at) them to get their homework and chores done, getting them fed and in bed at a reasonable hour without any hope of assistance or even grown-up conversation.

It will all be fine. I know this because it always has worked out before, but knowing this doesn't make the moment of the trial any easier. In 1 hour and 46 minutes I will wipe away my tears and put on a cheerful face and will acknowledge all the ways my Father in Heaven has blessed me today and every day of these challenging weeks. But for now I will count down the minutes left until this weekend when I get to "escape" for 24 hours in a 180-mile relay race. To many, my whole running obsession probably seems like a lot of hard work. This motherhood business is much, much harder. Today I say: Give me a marathon! 1 hour and 37 minutes to go.

Worry Bird

2009-06-12T09:02:00.000-07:00

Here's Anna's recital for Grandma to watch. She's the worry bird on the far right. She's a natural performer. The closer we got to the stage, the more excited she became.

Missy Banana

2009-06-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

I find it surreal that my youngest child is now officially 5 years old. I still truly think of myself as a young mother. I've had so many years of carting around toddlers , that it's strange to believe that stage of my life is behind me now. But it's true. Anna officially became a "big girl" on Wednesday. She had a magical day, and said to me as we were getting ready for bed that night, "Birthdays are fun because you just are happy and no one is mean."

In the morning we made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. Then she went to play at a friend's house while I did the birthday shopping. (Procastinate? Who me?) Then I picked her up and took her out to lunch at the Burger King with the big playground. We came home and made cupcakes. She had performed her ballet recital the night before as a "worry bird" and wanted a worry bird cake. This is what I came up with:

And this is the actual costume:

The resemblance is uncanny isn't it?

We went out for "cheese pizza" with the boys, and met up with Daddy at the pool. She really wanted to go to our neighborhood pool, but it was raining, so we went to an indoor one instead. Frankly, I think we made a good trade...this pool was way more fun, with slides and sprayers and the works.

We came home and ate cupcakes and ice cream, opened presents, and Anna as a "surprise" put her worry bird costume on again. She's been wearing it pretty much non-stop for the past 72 hours. I thought this was cute at first until I started picking up feathers and glitter. Apparently it's molting season. I would estimate I've picked up 7,239 feather in the past two days...on the conservative side.

And though I feel a little melancholy about losing my baby to school in the fall, I really am looking forward to this new stage. She is such a joy at home with me. She is so affectionate and interested, but she is ready to go to school now. She is getting old enough to stick with me on the side of estrogen. It's nice to know she's getting old enough to "get my back."

Happy birthday, girlfriend!

All Girl

2009-05-29T10:44:00.001-07:00

I learned something profound at Preschool graduation this week. Are you ready? Boys and girls are different!

Okay, so I realize no one is about to call the newspapers or anything, but I'll tell you what inspired this particular insight.

At the end of Preschool graduation, all the moms and kids gathered to watch a video of pictures taken throughout the year. Anna and her friends enjoyed this as only preschoolers can...I don't know of any other age group who loves seeing pictures of themselves more. After the movie was over, Anna suddenly erupted into tears. I held her and asked her what was wrong, she responded, "That movie made me feel sad inside."

To be honest, the movie made me feel pretty sad inside too. My baby is headed for Kindergarten. But it surprised me how she picked up on this bittersweet thing we call change at such a young age. Especially when I compare this experience with her brothers.

The thought of them crying over a photo montage at the age of 4 is downright laughable.

Now the outcome of a Diamondbacks game is another matter entirely.

The Element of Suprise

2009-05-22T08:23:00.000-07:00

Since my kids were little I've had big dreams...BIG dreams about what I was going to do when they turned 12. It seems like such a big important age, but our society is lacking in coming of age traditions...so we decided to invent one of our own...the surprise trip.

We decided that Dad would "kidnap" the birthday boy...or eventually girl..and take them somewhere great...just the two of them. We would tailor the trip around the child's interests, and make a great memory. Dad-bonding with a 12-year-old is pretty high on my list of priorities.

So last Saturday we got to participate in covert ops 101 as we very sneakily planned and executed Zachary's special trip. He's obsessed with sports, so some kind of game was a requirement in the plan. After checking baseball schedules and seating options, we settled on a Saturday Night game at the San Diego Padres stadium. We got fabulous tickets. Then we booked a morning flight and decided to leave the day-time activity up to the boy. Dad would give him his options during the flight, and they would head directly wherever he wanted to go once they landed.

Here's where it gets fun. We woke him up early on Saturday morning...he was exceedingly grouchy. He complained that Saturday is the only day he ever gets to sleep in! (tee-hee!) While he was eating breakfast, I sneaked into his room and packed his things. We told him he was going somewhere special with Dad for his birthday. Aunt Kim showed up and loaded the passengers for the airport. Then they were off!

En route, Zachary settled on Legoland for the day. So Dad and son had a full day at the park, ate dinner, and headed into town for the game in the evening. It went 16 innings! Definitely got our money's worth on those tickets. They settled into a hotel LATE that night, slept in the next morning (see Zachary...I've got your back) and flew home in the afternoon.

As they were sitting at the airport waiting to fly home, Zachary shyly hugged his dad and said, "Thanks Dad, this was fun." Mission accomplished!

I have only two regrets. 1-I forgot to send a camera with them, and 2-We'll never have that same shock factor with our other kiddos.

Deacon

2009-05-15T08:01:00.000-07:00

Could I possibly be old enough to have a 12-year-old child?

I swear it was just a couple of years ago that I headed to the hospital, waddling in on swollen ankles. I even remember watching the Jazz play Portland that night in the NBA playoffs. That was especially sensitive of my husband to turn the TV to something that would help distract me from the pain of labor.

But here I am with a nearly teenager,...and the Jazz got knocked out of the playoffs in the first round this year. This means an initiation into Mutual night, Scout Camp, and Priesthood responsibilities. It's exciting and intimidating.

He is such a good boy. He is setting a wonderful example for his brothers. I love this uninhibited, brilliant, intense, funny, odd little boy...oops young man!

Oven Ready

2009-05-11T11:10:00.000-07:00

I hope all of you mothers had a wonderful day yesterday filled with gratitude for your special role, and appreciation for the women who have influenced your life.

I had a nice day too. I want to establish that from the very beginning because the story I'm about to tell could easily be construed as complaining. I'm not complaining; it's just one of those moments in life that begs to be recorded.

"Once upon a time there was a mom of four children. She adored them all, and learned from them many valuable lessons about patience, charity, and cleaning up bodily fluids. She also had a loving husband who was a generous provider and a good father. They lived a happy life, only occasionally marred by the fact that in a household of six different individuals, chances are there is always at least one family member crying, moping, or making a mess.

Now once a year, this family set aside one day to celebrate and give thanks to this mom for all of her sacrifices and love. It was a good tradition filled with charming, child-made cards, dandelion bouquets, breakfast in bed and a reprieve from all chores. And there was dinner. What these dinners lacked in execution was usually made up for in enthusiasm. And although, sometimes there was a lapse in planning and preparation, the husband and the four children always managed to get a decent meal to the table eventually.

Then one year, this family got word that the special day that had been set aside would fall on a Fast Sunday. This meant any plans for breakfast in bed were scrapped. Not to fear...they would prepare an even more ambitious dinner that evening instead. They would make lasagna. The mom loved this dish and looked forward to sharing this special meal with her family.

After church, the family kindly sent their mom upstairs to take a nap and got to work on dinner. She gave Dad careful instructions about the procedure and recipe. He only ran into one problem. The only pasta he found in the house was labeled, "oven ready." His wife understood that oven ready noodles take a longer time in the oven and since it was a hot day, and they were all hungry from skipping two meals already she suggested he go ahead and boil them. Especially since Dad was not particularly fond of the results of oven cooked noodles anyway.

Then she cheerfully went off to bed where she curled up with a book and a delighted cat.

An hour and a half later, she emerged downstairs groggy and hungry. Her husband assured her dinner would be ready soon. He then proceeded to check the oven. He expressed concern that it didn't look right. Mom suggested that he remove the foil and let the casserole bake uncovered long enough to melt the cheese on top. He did this, and again expressed concern that it didn't look right.

With some anxiety, Mom came to check it out. The noodles on the top were rigid and crunchy. She asked her husband, "did you cook the noodles?"

He responded, "No, they're 'oven ready.'"

A note of panic crept into her voice, "So did you add water to the sauce and cover the pan with a double layer of foil?"

"You never told me to do that."

"But I did tell you to cook the noodles, right?"

The hungry mother could see this was going nowhere. She poured a cup of water over the entire dish, covered it tightly and put it back in the oven for 45 minutes. Even though she was starving, she was not unaware of the humor of the situation. So she spent the next 45 minutes laughing and crying at the same time. She had little faith that the remedy would save the dish, and was beginning to suggest back-up meals. But lo and behold, it worked...sort of. They only had to sacrifice one noodle.

After she ate and was restored to herself she couldn't help but say to her husband, "You do realize that we will talk about this meal on every Mother's Day from now until forever?"

I've Been Sprung

2009-05-08T10:20:00.000-07:00

Spring has arrived in our backyard! Finally!

It's actually pretty unreasonable how much the weather affects my mood.

Quick Update

2009-05-04T14:48:00.000-07:00

My kids have once again been off-track which has resulted in an absence from my blog (not to mention, my sanity). I spent the first week with family visiting here and the second week with the kids at my parent's home in Sparks, Nevada. I'm not wholly recuperated, but the kids went back to school today and I think I just might finally get to putting away the pack and play that has been set up in my basement for more than two weeks.

Zachary is preparing to turn 12 next week and could not be more excited. I'm excited too, as well as petrified...and feeling pretty old. We have made the decision to send him to an accelerated junior high school next fall. He is a little nervous about this, but has been won over to the school by the fact that they offer an elective called: Sports Literature. He has been really improving in his piano, and received a superior rating at Festival a few weeks ago.

Noah makes me laugh every day lately by his unique approach to life, the universe, and everything. He walks the dog every day with his eyes closed...literally...he walks down the street totally blind...haven't quite figured that one out yet. He is obsessed with books, especially fantasy series and can't get through a sentence without referring to something he has read. And he has taken on the role as Isaac's private baseball coach. He follows him up and down the field during games yelling out helpful suggestions like, "gunfighter position!" and "crocodile!" Then he races to bring him his bat and batting helmet when it's time. He's like a mixture between a boxing coach and a caddy. He also received superior ratings on his Festival piano pieces.

Isaac was so excited for his first baseball game that he was awake and dressed down to his cleats by 7:00 a.m...only 9 and 1/2 hours before the game. And then it was rained out. He has been living essentially outdoors ever since the weather finally turned warm. He marches up and down the levels of the yard, endlessly dreaming up imaginary activities.

Anna keeps me company with her sweet cuddling and keeps me laughing with her sassy speech. She told her aunt that the best way to get something you want, is to wait a little before Easter and then say it out loud because the Easter bunny can hear you. "Because, I said I wanted flip-flops and the Easter Bunny bringed them to my house!" She is preparing to perform in all her diva glory as a "worry bird" in her dance school's production of "The Wizard of Oz."

Existentialism: If we don't take family photos, do we cease to exist as a family?

2009-04-14T07:48:00.001-07:00

I think a posting on the process of taking family portraits has become the most ubiquitous entry in all of the blogosphere, and yet I feel compelled to add my own take on this bizarre ritual. Last year I gave the family a reprieve from the process; I just couldn't dig up the energy to fight. So I thought it would be easier this year since a. everyone in the family is now officially past the stage where they need a regular nap; b. they all understand basic directions given in English; c. the scars from previous photography traumas are distant enough to be faded almost out of memory; and d. because I said so.

In the end, we all got through the experience in one piece (more or less) and even managed to come away with a decent group shot. (It only took 119 frames, but we got it.) But every time I walk past our photo wall, I find myself wanting to yell, "Liars! Look at you smiling there! You look like such a happy, loving family, but I was there, remember! NONE of you were happy that day! NONE of you were loving!" But I keep my ranting on the inside. I just move on and remind myself that outside of photo studios we are a pretty happy and functional family.

Ah, remember the days when family pictures meant dealing with just these two. I remember actually getting stressed, STRESSED about what on earth we could wear. Ha! Those were the days.

Then a couple years into this whole family experiment we picked up this guy. And somewhere around his 5th year, he decided he no longer knew how to smile naturally. We tried interventions and counseling to no avail. We're stuck with the forced and cheesy smile from now until puberty wipes all smiling from his repertoire completely.

Then this guy came along...our most photogenic experiment of the bunch. And he hit third grade and decided to be known as "the boy who never smiles." Look closely, there's something a little scary about his eyes.

This one looks like a kidnapping victim trying to communicate his distress without drawing attention from his captor. Doesn't his face just scream, "help me?" And that grimace, I mean, er... smile.

Well, at least she isn't crying.

So you see what we have to work with? Now let's get them all together shall we?

Oh dear.

Nice eyebrows, Noah.

If only we could bottle Zachary's enthusiasm and sell it.

This is disturbing on so many levels.

I fear this is the picture of the beginning of a subversive conspiracy.

Oh my.

It seems like I'm posting a lot of pictures, but I have at least 10 more that I could have included that I edited out. They're even more amusing when I zoom in for a close-up.

Oh well, let's try just the boys.

On second thought, where are the girls?

Did I mention that I have 119 frames?

Phew! I feel better just getting this all out in the open. Now you all know the real story behind our carefully composed wall art. I now feel more genuine in offering a glimpse of this:

Ahhh, thanks for letting me get that purged from my system; I feel so much more honest now. I think maybe we'll wait to do family pictures again for a while--maybe when Zachary gets married.

Resolve

2009-04-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

I love General Conference weekend. Only members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could possibly view 8 hours of church as a "break."

For me, this event is a twice-a-year pep-talk.

It goes something like this:

"Hey Cami! You sure are great, and I sure appreciate you. I think you have the potential to be even greater."

"Because I think so much of you, I've picked out a few areas where I can tell you need a little bit of help. I'm just pointing them out to you because I know how happy it will make you to improve on them...and because I know you are just so great that you really can make a change. Now don't judge yourself too harshly or get so critical of your own faults that you suddenly have to just sit down in the road. I'm going to help you."

"I'm going to help you by reminding you of many great blessings in your life that you may sometimes forget to acknowledge. And sometimes blessings don't look like blessings when you first come across them. Hang in there, it is totally going to be worth it."

"I'm also going to help by warning you of some pitfalls ahead. Don't worry, I'll help guide you on a safer course."

"Can I remind you again just how great you are? Can I point out to you some of your strengths now? This is why I know you have the potential to become even stronger."

"Hey, you're looking good. This next six months are going to be a lot of work, but you are going to be great, I know it. Stick with it and we'll fine tune all your abilities."

"It's going to be too hard to do all of this yourself, so make sure you check back in on a regular basis."

"Now get out there and do your best! You're gonna be great."

I come out of the weekend with a firmer commitment to live a better life. And if I could say anything to my weekend's "trainers" it would be, "thanks, I needed that."

Icky Padidddlekins

2009-03-30T06:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, so technically my buddy Isaac turned 7 nine days ago, but hey who's counting? His actual birthday was the day of the Draper Temple Dedication which was a busy day to say the least, so we didn't get around to having his birthday party until a week later.

He wanted an Indiana Jones theme.

Huh?

So first to the guest list. Ideally, I wanted about 7 or 8 guests since they are after all 6 and 7-year-old boys, but it got tricky. There are 12 boys his age just in our neighborhood; there are 10 in his Primary class; there are 15 in his school class. There must have been something in the water back in 2001 that resulted in a surge of testosterone around these parts. So I asked him who he wanted to invite, and he of course picked the kids in his school class. Against my better judgment, I decided to let him invite ALL the boys from school. I figured a Saturday morning party would mean that several of them would have ball games and other activities that would conflict. And I was right. Only 12 of them managed to make it to the party.

If you're ever going to host an Indiana Jones themed party, just be warned. You're not going to find anything in the stores to help you out. So this is what we did. When the guests arrived, they were put to work making their own pizzas. We had delicious toppings for them like chilled monkey brains, and sliced baby cobras. We had "Raiders of the Lost Ark" playing in the background so that as they finished their pizzas at different rates, there was something to occupy their attention until all the guests had arrived. Ah, sweet television.

After the pizzas were done and cooking in the oven, we gathered and read the letter that Indiana Jones had left along with a piece of a map leading to a treasure. The map directed them to the first game where they had to wrap two mummies (with toilet paper) in order to discover the next piece of the map.

From there, they were directed outside to a hazardous obstacle course. If they were successful, the next piece of the map would be revealed. The obstacles included blowdarts, (q-tips dipped in paint and blown through a straw at a target) a walk across lettered blocks, (ala "Last Crusade") a snake pit, (the trampoline covered in rubber snakes they had to navigate around) a rolling boulder, (Cory with a beach ball) digging for diamonds in the lost "ark" (a cooler filled with sand and golfballs), and a run with a chalice. About halfway through, Zachary remarked, "This is a lot more fun than I thought it would be."

One of the "diamonds" had the clue to the next piece of the map. It led them to the first clue to a treasure hunt. The clues were all cut up into puzzle pieces, so they had to assemble the clue, read it, then search for the next puzzle. I left Cory in charge of this while I set up lunch. This turned out to be the trickiest part because as it turns out it is physically impossible for thirteen 6 and 7-year-olds to work together to assemble a puzzle. Somehow or other, they finally managed to find the "treasure" which was a treasure chest birthday cake.

(I forgot to take a picture until after the candles had been blown out and the cake had been cut.)

We had just enough time to eat lunch (pizza and "bug juice"), cake and ice cream, and open presents. All involved had a good time...with the exception of Anna who was mad the whole day because she was not allowed to participate.

Our birthday boy is such an easy-going, cheerful child to have around. He is purely a joy. He is a friend to everyone; especially his little sister, Anna. He is one of those people who it is always comfortable to have around. He is compliant and happy and good.

Happy birthday Isaac!

Ode to a Utah Spring

2009-03-23T09:57:00.000-07:00

Oh March, you seductive vixen!
You bluster in with wild skies
a determined winter ready to make its last stand.
And when the tantrum is over
you turn shamefaced and meek.
And to atone for your brutish behavior
you tantalize us with a glimmer of freshness...
the scent of raw earth and early budding,
fair skies and mild afternoons,
peeks of early blossoms and daffodils.
Reluctantly I find myself amidst the enticement
daring to hope.
Casting off the shackles of a long, dark cold,
I'm persuaded to believe in flip-flops
and open windows
and fixed-up bicycles.
With tentative steps I emerge
from a weary hibernation.
You beckon me closer
with your clear countenance and winsome eyes.
And when my wavering hope is fixed and faithful belief,
You drop 4 inches of snow on my upturned face
on the 23rd day of your vindictive debut.

Mother's Intuition

2009-03-12T11:22:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday morning, on the way out the door to school, Zachary asked me to come to his D.A.R.E. Graduation Assembly that morning at 11:00. Sure son, thanks for the notice. I told him that I had to take Anna to ballet that morning and the soonest I would make it there would be 11:30. On top of that, I had family coming to stay with us from St. George that afternoon, was baby-sitting a neighbor's friend, and to top things off, the garage door had just broken. Then I told him that the assembly would probably be really short, just a chance to hand out (meaningless) certificates. (Don't worry...I left out the meaningless.) By the time I got there, the whole thing would be over. (To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of the program anyway-- I think this contributed to my reluctance.)

He seemed resigned to my logic and left for school. Ten minutes later, the phone rang as I was heading out the door. It was Zachary. "Hey Mom! Mrs. Rose says the assembly will last an hour so you won't miss the whole thing." I told him again I had a really busy day, but I guess I could try to get there for the second half; I warned him not to get his hopes up. Then I started the mad dash of work and errands that is my life.

At 11:30, I pulled into the neighborhood in a panic of things left undone at home and decided to just drive past the school and go collect my neighbor's little boy and get home to my laundry. Something pricked my conscience as I neared the school, and in the last second, I pulled into the parking lot. After all, my nearly 12-year-old son actually WANTED me to come and participate with him in this. I should take advantage of this desire while it lasts.

I walked in with my gym clothes on and Anna still in her leotard, sat down, picked up a program and discovered Zachary's name was on it! Apparently all the sixth-graders had to write an essay about their experience in D.A.R.E. Then, the officer in charge selected one winner in each class who was awarded a medal and would get to read their essay to the group. Zachary's essay had won! He read his report with his typical uber-serious attitude, even going so far as to raise his hand in the air when he read his pledge to remain drug and alcohol free. It was SO completely Zachary...so full of his personality...so true to his voice. I found myself with many other parents in the room, chuckling at his examples and turns of phrase. This kid is just too good to be true.

I grabbed Zachary afterwards and asked him why he didn't tell me he had won. Apparently, he had been just as surprised as I was to find his name on the program. The officer just showed up to the assembly with the news. His teacher told me later, that the D.A.R.E. officer said it was the best essay he'd ever gotten; he made his entire precinct read it.

How horrible would I have felt if I had ignored that prompting to stop?

My Real Self

2009-03-03T07:06:00.000-08:00

Just over a week ago, Cory made travel arrangements to go down to Phoenix for a hearing. Impulsively, I decided to buy a plane ticket as a birthday gift to myself and join him there. I engaged the services of my sister-in-law (thanks Kim!) and friend (thanks Bryn!) to keep my children supervised, and headed off fancy-free to the valley of the sun. It was a super-fast trip--I landed on Thursday night and left Saturday at dinner-time--but I did my best to pack a lot in a short time. I brought my camera, but was too busy enjoying myself to actually take any pictures.

It only took about 24 hours in town to realize this was maybe not a good idea. It was too wonderful! How would I ever go home again? February in Phoenix felt like that scene in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy walks out of the black and white world of Kansas into the technicolor vision of paradise. It all smelled so wonderful! Everything around me was viewed through the rosy-colored lenses of nostalgia. As I drove the streets, I knew exactly where I was and had a memory for every corner. I chatted long with old running friends and preschool friends and play-group friends out in the glorious outdoors. I visited with another friend in her home while chopping tomatoes for Youth Conference the following day. I attended the temple with my old ward and saw many familiar, friendly faces. Cory and I kept good friends up VERY late talking and laughing just like old times. On Saturday, we ate lunch at our favorite downtown dive (almost painfully delicious in every bite), visited with dear friends for what will be the last time in their Phoenix home as they prepare to move to San Antonio, and enjoyed a perfect afternoon at a Spring Training game. Then we stopped in at the best used bookstore anywhere, and managed to escape with only 4 books--pretty disciplined for the 2 of us, and finished the day off with ice cream. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I felt almost like I was re-discovering an old forgotten friend--myself...my Phoenix self. I flew home on Sunday both exhausted and refreshed.

I think I came home with fresh eyes. I came home that evening and had a wonderful time chatting with a fun and devoted sister-in-law. I spent Sunday afternoon visiting with two remarkable women in my Relief Society presidency. On Monday, I went on a preschool fieldtrip where I could rub shoulders with good and kind women who are wonderful examples and fun to talk to. That evening another friend stopped by to bring me a thoughtful birthday gift. I realized suddenly that I have been blessed to make good friends wherever I live. I don't think I have been grateful enough for that. It was good to go back and it was good to come home. I will always miss things about Phoenix, but I need to open my eyes to the good things that are around me in Draper too. And next time I go to Arizona, maybe I should do it in August.

Mamas Boys

2009-02-24T09:18:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the challenges of successfully raising little boys. Especially when they come in threes. All in a row. Because really, the biggest challenges I face in my household of boys stem from the dynamic of numbers...the sum of the whole is greater than any one if its parts. Now don't get me wrong, I love my sons. If, when I started this whole child-bearing enterprise I had been told that I could only have all boys or all girls, I sincerely believe I would have picked boys. However, there are certain things about raising lots of little boys that mothers of more mixed households simply will never understand. I'm sure that mothers of all girls could write a treatise on their own struggles as well; I would love to read it. It would be like learning about another country and culture.

We recently had dinner with friends who have 4 daughters. Much shrieking and melodrama resulted. Our friends explained that their girls, understandably, are a little intimidated/don't know what to make of boys. We were apologetic about our boys' wild rumbling and physical energy. Afterwards, I realized though, that my boys are every bit as intimidated/don't know what to make of girls. They just don't express their insecurities in the same way.

Here is what I wish everyone understood about families who have lots of boys. Boys are totally physical, and the more of them you get together, the more physical they become. My own children are getting older now and are not as much the pile of puppies they once were whenever I took them to a public place, but they still cannot seem to walk past each other without reaching out and touching, pinching, pushing, slapping, yanking, punching, grabbing, or spanking. So the next time you're at the grocery store or doctor's office and you see a mother with 2 or 3 little boys climbing, rolling, and pawing on everything and everyone in sight do NOT assume that she is totally out of control and should be reported to Family Services. Just smile at her encouragingly and reassure her that one day the same children who think of her as a jungle gym will become teenagers who hide out in their bedrooms.

Boys are sensitive too. Before my daughter was born and people would make misguided attempts at consoling me for my home's lack of estrogen, they frequently said things like, "at least boys aren't as emotional as girls." In my experience at least, this is completely untrue. My boys get their feelings hurt, wake up on the wrong side of the bed, mope when they're tired or hungry, and sometimes feel left out and lonely. This is part of being human, I think. The difference between boys and girls though, seems to me to be a difference of tenacity and expression. My boys can move on without holding a grudge; an admirable quality I think. And they are more likely to lash out physically when their feelings are hurt. My boys have gotten into trouble this way, by hitting a girl who was teasing them. If one had hit his brother, they would have just hit him back, or moved on to other things. I'm not condoning physical violence...it's an important thing to teach my children to work things out in a more respectful way. However, girls can be just as cruel with words as boys are sometimes with fists. This is a completely foreign concept to my children who have only two girls in their life--Mom, and baby sister. I'm hoping that they will learn more about how to deal with girls as their sister grows older, but for now, they don't have any real home-life experience with female peers.

Boys are freakishly independent...at least mine are. I don't know how much of this is nature or nurture, but all of my sons have gone through a needy infancy straight into a take-on-the-world childhood. This is both good and bad for me. I want all of my children to stand on their own two feet and be both competent and responsible, but every time they cut another apron string, I look back longingly to the days when Mommy was the antidote to every distress. I see mothers with daughters the same ages as my boys who still seem to be the chief source of consolation and confidence in the lives of their children. My boys seem to need less and less consolation and more and more recognition and acknowledgement of their independence.

Boys are less physically demonstrative than girls. Again, this is another debate between genetics and culture, but my little girl will snuggle and hug and kiss far more than her brothers ever did. I demand a hug and kiss every morning before school, and today I had to physically chase and hold down my middle boy. I guess it makes those unexpected gestures that show up from them every now and then just that much more priceless and sweet.

Boys don't want to talk about their feelings. As much as I want to talk things through with them, this is just not happening. It has taken me many years to figure this out. So, I am slowly learning how to "read" my children, understand their teachable moments, and discover the most effective way to communicate with them. My job is not for sissies or for quitters, that's for sure.

I guess the hardest thing for me to deal with on a day to day level is the obvious fact that I am not a boy. Whatever understanding I have acquired in my nearly 12 years of on-the-job-training does not change the fact that boys and girls are different. And I'm a girl. Not a psychologist.

But here are some of the jewels that we mothers of many boys alone get to experience:
-the day your 5-year-old tells you off-handedly that you are pretty--as if it has just occurred to him that his mother is someone more than the maid and the cook
-the preschooler who picks every last flower in the yard as a surprise bouquet
-the preteen who declines dinner at a friend's house because he firmly believes his mother is the best cook in the world
-the wrestling, clawing puppies who grow up to become loyal friends and brothers
-the "all grown up" second grader who shyly slips his hand into yours on the first day of school
-the look of pride and accomplishment on the face of a toddler who has just demolished his bedroom
-the endless supply of "collections" you would more likely term "landfill"
-that one day in a string of hundreds that the piano gets practiced without a reminder
-the unexpected and unexplained hug after dinner

These are the things that remind me this motherhood thing isn't so much a trial as a blessing. I am grateful for my sons. I was also grateful last weekend, when my boys were all playing together in a bedroom. My daughter walked in, came right back out and cried, "It stinks in there!" At last, someone who sees my world the way that I do!

Before and After

2009-02-23T07:47:00.000-08:00

My 6-year-old son and I have kind of a role reversal when it comes to his hair. I always imagined there would be battles one day about getting his hair cut; I just never guessed I would be the one fighting to keep it long. He has such adorable natural curls that it breaks my heart every time I cut them off. He has been begging for literally months to cut his hair short like his brothers, so I finally had to give in.

This is how he feels about his curls. Personally, I think he looks handsome.

And here he is after I caved. He looks happier for sure, but he's just not my baby anymore.

Dizzy Disney

2009-02-17T15:24:00.000-08:00

It has been a long time since I made an appearance on my blog. We spent a week in St. George and at Disneyland, and then I spent another week cleaning up my life from the chaos of travel. My kids are still off-track for one more week and Cory was gone all last week for business. Life is cuh-cuh-cuh-razy right now! Still, I thought I would post a few cute pictures from our travels for my family.

Zachary could not get enough of all the babies in our week of adventure. He loves to hold and cuddle McKinley, Joshua, and Xiana. Anna will not let him carry her around and baby her anymore, so he was in heaven.

This picture from Disneyland just makes me laugh. I think Noah was determined not to let me take a single decent picture of him all week. He looks either morose or crazy in every frame.

Our time at Disneyland seemed almost like two vacations instead of one. The boys will no longer consent to any time on the younger rides and Anna won't get on anything even remotely scary. That leaves only 2 rides in the entire park that the whole family would go on together--Autotopia and Buzz Lightyear.

Anna and I got to have a special lunch together with the princesses. She was equal parts shy and elated to meet one princess after another. It was the highlight of this trip for me.

A high percentage of every day in Disney for Anna is spent on the Winnie the Pooh ride. (It's right across from Splash Mountain which is the number one attraction with every member of the Talbot family with XY chromosomes.) Here Anna is with her favorite character of all, Eyeore!

The first day and a half at Disneyland there was not a cloud in the sky. We never waited in line longer than 5 minutes...it was ideal. The second half of our time it poured rain. Disneyland, it turns out is not as much fun in the rain...although it beats a sunny day almost anywhere else. In a way it was good because it forced us to stop and see a lot of the shows we have always ignored as just time wasted that could be spent on the rides. There are some really fun shows!

As usual, I was the saddest member of the family when it was time to leave. I just dread the day when there is no one interested on riding on Peter Pan with me anymore.

Off Track

2009-01-31T08:02:00.000-08:00

My kids are in year round school which means every 9 week term they go to school is followed by 3 weeks "off track." They went off track on Tuesday afternoon. This is my house on Wednesday morning:

This counter-top was completely clean at 7:30 a.m. This is 8:14.

This was accomplished by 8:02.

I was going to include a picture of the playroom, but that was keeping it a little bit too real.

Here is my 11-year-old in his pajamas...eating breakfast...at 2:30 in the afternoon!

Only 23 days off to go!

If My Life Were an Opera

2009-01-26T15:10:00.000-08:00

For the past 2 years, I have purchased season tickets to the Utah Opera with my sister-in-law, Kim. Now I know to some of my friends and family this may seem like a form of masochism, but we really love opera. No, really. I'm not just saying that to sound aristocratic or high-fallutin. (Although, I have to admit, I always feel so cultured when I can say things like, "this weekend at the opera," or "I'm looking forward to next season's adaptation of Butterfly." Try saying that at the next dinner party you attend and guaranteed, people will automatically spot you an extra 15 IQ points.) But besides the intrinsic value of snootiness, we really do enjoy the actual productions themselves. We love the staging and the sets; the sumptuous and sparkly costumes; the over-the-top dramatic plots--it's better than high school. I also especially love an excuse 4 times a year to go out to dinner at "girly" restaurants, dress up a little and leave my children in the capable (although infinitely less cultured) hands of their father. And most importantly, we love the music. Even if there is bad singing (and there very rarely is) or acting or dancing or standing or clumping around the stage, we love to mock. Oh how we love the mocking.

Now Kim is an actual opera singer so she is infinitely more informed when we go to the opera. She almost always has sung or heard many of the arias in each production. This weekend we attended the opera, "Regina." It's a contemporary work that I was completely unfamiliar with before attending. As usual, we loved it. One of the great things about dramatic opera is knowing that generally speaking, the characters are not going to have happy endings. You know going in that things are going to end badly...worse even than you can predict. The meticulous plan to thwart a dismal destiny will go sadly awry. There will not be blanks in the executioner's rifle. The long-awaited return of an old lover will not resolve the heroine's distress so suicide will ensue. The ghosts in the graveyard will not turn out to be friendly. "Regina" is pure melodrama, but the ending is not quite as tragic as you can expect from Wagner and Verdi. The characters and situations are almost accessible as real life. And it got me to thinking...what if my life were an opera?

Wouldn't it be great? What if I could swoon over all the little problems arising in my life? I could take great pains to avoid any consequences of my actions thereby setting into motion my ultimate downfall or I could become a fatalist and lie back and accept as my due all the heinous and cruel tricks of fate. Either way, I would be wearing an opulent gown and some stunning jewels. If all my world was set to music, my children's arguing would become a comical fugue, my inner dialogue-a dramatic aria, and a estrogen-induced mood swing would be the mother lode of a shrieking, hand-wringing scene. All in perfect tune of course.

I guess that's what I really love about opera--the escape from reality.

Ennui

2009-01-15T18:05:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had those days where you feel like you are never at rest...you run, run, run through life...and then when you look back at bed-time there is literally nothing to show for it. That is how my entire January is feeling. I'm halfway through the first month of 2009, just weeks after all of my well-meant, fresh-start, wide-eyed new beginnings. And despite the daily stretching in all my roles in an elasti-girl-like glory, I feel like I have accomplished a big nothing so far.

So I have tried in the last 24 hours to identify where the problem lies. Part of this feeling is the inevitable result of being a mom. A good portion of my life is spent doing things that don't stay done. And growing children is a slow and usually imperceptible process. Part of the issue is that this month is unusually full. I have had many extra service opportunities that have added up to hours well-spent but still spent. But I think the real root of this feeling of frustration lies in the hours wasted simply because I have not used them well. I can justify that I'm exhausted and need the break, but rationalization for me is usually just a sign that I know better.

So after I pondered about the source of my "problem" I spent some time trying to figure out a solution. Here's what I decided. 1-I need a project. Something that motivates me more than housework. 2-I need to make time to exercise. That's the thing that I enjoy that has been most neglected by filling up my schedule with other things. I can use the energy. 3-I need to eliminate my time-wasters. I don't ever resent the time I spend reading or writing, but I could definitely give up some of the time spent in front of the TV or computer screen. 4-Just say no! If I'm overscheduled I have no one to blame but myself. 5-(and this is an important one) Make a trip to Disneyland. That's right, it's time to get away from the cold and snow and haze of inversion. Mickey Mouse always restores my spark.

2008 In Review

2009-01-05T11:10:00.000-08:00

Here is a month by month look at what I have learned in the last year, and my resulting resolutions.

January: Visiting my sister and my niece Xiana in Las Vegas

Resolution: Visit family more often.

February: Isaac in our driveway

Resolution: Invest in a snowblower.

March: Anna on "Hero Day" for Preschool

Resolution: Always root for the underdog.

April:

Resolution: Take more pictures.

May: Spring in our backyard

Resolution: Plant a garden.

June: Anna at the Teva Games in Vail, CO

Resolution: Overcome my fear of heights.

July: The Children's Museum in Ogden

Resolution: Conduct a family fire safety drill.

August: On our way to an Iowa baseball game

Resolution: Cut Noah's hair more frequently. And teach him how to match his clothes.

September: ???

Resolution: Lock up all the markers.

October: At the Alamosa Alligator Farm

Resolution: Increase my Life Insurance.

November: My cousin's baby, CaRina

Resolution: Wipe off the table more than once a week.

December: The kids in the playroom

Resolution: Spring for a real Ping Pong table.

Lucky 13

2008-12-30T07:05:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Cory and I celebrated our 13th anniversary. Actually, it's kind of hard to celebrate it on a Monday night, so we celebrated it on Saturday. Today I thought it would be funny to post 13 things we have learned about each other after 13 years of marriage.

1. Cory is not a huge fan of fish, and yet his favorite ethnic food is sushi? Go figure.

2. Cami will never learn to like the NFL.

3. Our first fight as newlyweds was over a Scrabble game. Thirteen years later and we have never played Scrabble since.

4. Cory has to turn a fan on before he goes to sleep every night, even if it 17 degrees below zero.

5. Cami refuses to clean out the catbox.

6. When we go out to dinner, we can't share an entree because we have completely different taste.

7. Cory would think writing a list like this is goofy and sentimental.

8. Cami LOVES the fact that Cory is not cheesy and overly-sentimental.

9. Cory still remembers to buy flowers for our anniversary.

10. Cami would rather work with Cory on a Saturday than play with him.

11. Cami does most of the family finances, but Cory is like-minded in her spending style so it works.

12. Cory makes better waffles than Cami.

13. Cami makes better everything else.

Here's to 13 years!

Merry Christmas Everyone

2008-12-25T19:05:00.000-08:00

My family is watching Kung Fu Panda at the moment, so I took a second to sneak away and send out my holiday greetings. It has been a wonderful, quiet day--I'm still wearing my pajamas. It has been snowing pretty much non-stop for the past 24 hours and we are happy to have the excuse to stay indoors where it's cozy. See, I guess snow is good for something after all. We actually woke up to things not so cozy--our main level heater was not working. After some reading of the manual, some tinkering with the starter, a phone-call to our "handyman" in Des Moines, and a Herculean effort not to swear, we found a repairman willing to come over and fix it. In a blizzard. On Christmas morning. And he only charged us time and a half! We consider it something of a Christmas miracle.

All of our little monkeys had a wonderful day. Though their lists to Santa were not all checked off 100 per cent accurately, every one of them told me independently at some point in the day that this was the best Christmas ever. I guess Santa really does know best. Isaac even said, "Don't worry Dad. I remember the true meaning of Christmas."

Here are a few pictures of our holiday week:

Here is the gang dressed in Christmas Sunday best. They are a good-looking crowd if I do say so myself.

Here is part of the cast of the annual "Talbot Family Christmas Pageant." Anna insisted she wanted to be the angel so I was Mary yet again. It's getting kind of hard to pull off the role in my 30s.

I got a sewing machine for Christmas this year, but I opened it early so I could make the kids some Christmas pajamas.

They were all impressed.

They are never that impressed when my mom or mother-in-law do the sewing. Of course, it took me an entire day to do what either of their grandmas could have cranked out in an hour. I guess the key to impressing your children is low expectations.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have had a wonderful day, and don't worry, I remember the true meaning of Christmas too.

In Loving Memory

2008-12-22T06:43:00.000-08:00

On Friday evening I received a phone call from a friend in Phoenix to tell me that the husband of a mutual friend had been killed in a tragic bicycle accident. For the past two days, I have been stunned and reeling. He leaves behind my friend, their two married daughters and what he always jokingly referred to as his "second family"--a 9 year-old and 7 year-old.

I haven't been able to sleep the past two nights, and so in a selfish attempt for closure, I have decided to post some of my thoughts. I hope to do so both humbly and respectfully.

First of all, if there is anyone in this world I would aspire to grow up to be, it is Jana. Her strengths are in every area where I long to be strong but fall short. She is soft-spoken and patient. She never draws any attention to herself, but fills needs quietly, does the lion's share of work in every setting, is careful and observant in every word and action. She is always the one to say the right thing, to make the needed phone call, to quietly lift the soul in distress. She is the most genuine person I know. I didn't know Gerry as well, but have always liked him as a cheerful and loving father. He had a dry and smart sense of humor, an astounding gospel intellect, a cool head and a generous hand. He was someone who deserved a wife like Jana.

In moments like these, I find myself reevaluating my own life--how I spend my time, how I treat my family, where my faith lies. My heart aches for my friend and her family. My faith as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints teaches me that "families can be together forever." I don't doubt that my friend will one day be reunited with her husband...this is a source of both hope and comfort. In the meantime, however, there is a lot of loneliness and sadness in the separation. I know that there are some trials that can only be faced with time and the comforting presence of the Holy Ghost. I believe that the gift of the Atonement of Jesus Christ has power not only to redeem us from our sins, but to ease the pain of our trials and burdens.

As I sat in my church Christmas program yesterday, the words of one Christmas carol took on new meaning. "Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay close by me forever, and love me, I pray." I pray that my friend and her family will feel the Savior closer by them this Christmas. I am grateful in a world where life is fragile, that I--and my friend--have a foundation that is sure.

Snow and Other Four Letter Words

2008-12-19T18:42:00.000-08:00

Two years ago my husband tried to soften the blow of leaving my warm and sunny Arizona home by saying--and this is a direct quote--"don't worry, they only get 3 or 4 snowstorms a winter in Utah. It's not that bad." Then last year we had a doozy of a winter with snow from October until May. Here is Isaac in our driveway last January:

This is January, mind you, we got at least another foot in February alone.

All the locals reassured me that last year was a fluke...the worst winter in a hundred years.

Here we are on December 19th and we've already had 4 BIG snowstorms... this week. They're expecting more for tomorrow, Monday, and Wednesday. And while some people use words like, "transformative, ethereal, and magical" to describe this weather phenomenon, I prefer, "bitter, treacherous, and messy." Anyone who tells you how "snow makes the whole world seem quiet and clean" has clearly never had to mop up the tracks left by snowboots all over the wood floors. I am well aware that everyone I know is getting a little tired of all my whining about snow; I'm pretty tired of it myself. I have a solution though--I just need to convince my husband that we can afford that winter home in Phoenix. After all, "they only get 3 or 4 heat waves there every year. It's not that bad."

There are NO Christmas Shopping Shortcuts

2008-12-12T11:55:00.000-08:00

Two days before Thanksgiving, I was almost completely finished with my Christmas shopping. I was one of those smug people that go around bragging about how much easier it is to shop before the crowds and post-Thanksgiving clamor. I made all the usual self-righteous statements about how I'm simplifying my preparations this year so that I can savor and enjoy this holiday time. Note to self: keep your smug and self-righteous declarations to yourself next year...the shopping gods are listening. Now we are less than two weeks away from Christmas, and I have spent the better part of every day this week shopping, returning, mailing, making lists, checking them thrice. I thought I was so with it this year..I had planned and organized every detail, but somehow, I managed to overlook some things.

Like the fact that I bought the perfect Christmas present for my dad....in July...and then forgot all about it...and sent him something else that is pretty much the grandpa equivalent of getting socks and underwear for Christmas...and then I woke up at 6:24 a.m. two days ago with the sudden realization of that perfect gift...now where did I put it? Two hours later it turned up, and now I'm looking at it and wondering if I really want to go back to the post office after I've already managed to mail everything else...or maybe I should just save it for next Christmas...after all...it's not like I would forget I had it.

And then there is the issue of the sweater vests. This one is one part my fault for being in "hurry-hurry-don't check it-hurry" mode, and one part department store error. Every year, I get Anna a darling Christmas dress for church, but nothing for the boys. I decided this year to buy them coordinating sweater-vests so that they wouldn't be left out. I looked everywhere for something I loved and after 6 stores of searching, I finally settled on something I liked instead. They had green, red, and white sweater vests all laid out on the same table. I picked a different color for each boy, including 2 size 8/10 for Zachary and Noah who wear the same size. Now here is my problem.

Here is vest number one..you'll understand the close-up in a second.

Here is vest number two. Same brand, same size, same style, same table.

Guess who is headed to the mall this afternoon to make an exchange.

Then my boys brought home lists of things they needed for class parties. On Monday, I got Noah's list and grabbed the things he needed while I was out. On Tuesday, I got Zachary's list and made a quick run to the grocery store for his things and a few odds and ends. On Thursday I got Isaac's list and made my third trip to the grocery store this afternoon. I had hoped to do all my Christmas baking this week, but it will have to postponed indefinitely because at the rate I'm going I will be making 429 more trips to the store and post office between now and Christmas.

This last picture isn't really about Christmas shopping directly, but if you take an Arizona-bred kitty, add a sudden cold-snap in the weather , mix in so many hours of shopping that my bedroom has not been cleaned once this week, you get this:

So much for this planning thing...next year I plan to procrastinate.

Nutcracker Take 2

2008-12-08T15:11:00.000-08:00

Okay, I think I did it. I posted the whole thing on youtube; the link is below. Unfortunately, the night of the performance, my memory card ran out of space for the last 15 seconds. This is when the mouse king dies and all the little mice run over and cry over his body. Soooo cute! I'm sorry I don't have it recorded.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8L-mqAr1H-w

Angelina Ballerina (she's a mouse who dances too)

2008-12-07T07:31:00.000-08:00

This is mostly for Anna's grandparents, but if you have an extra minute, I think it's pretty cute. I actually spent the whole morning trying to upload the entire 2 minute 44 seconds I recorded from the audience, but it apparently is too big for this site. I'm sure if I was more technically savvy, I could figure out a way to do it, but instead, I'm uploading 2 shorter video clips from backstage. Sorry for the bouncy quality; I was holding a 2-year-old gingerbread cookie at the time. For what it's worth, Anna is the mouse with red, white, and black ribbon on her tail. (I know it's hard to tell, even Cory and I had a hard time picking her out.)

They let different mice get "shot" at every rehearsal, but Anna always refused to be the mouse to take the bullet.

Here is our sweet little mouse in the dressing room. She was nervous for the first performance, but after she stepped foot on-stage she loved it! The whole production was charming, but the mice really did steal the entire first act.

A Little of This, A Little of That

2008-12-03T13:58:00.000-08:00

I was just reading through my Thanksgiving posts and said to myself, "Boy, that was really self-indulgent." And then I remembered, "Oh yeah! This is my personal blog, I can be self-indulgent whenever I want." And then I made an appointment with a shrink to discuss the fact that I'm talking to myself.

But on that self-indulgent note--since this is for all intents and purposes my only personal history--I thought I'd take a minute today to write about the little happenings of my immediate family. For my personal record--not because I have any grandiose ideas that someday historians are going to piece together the rise and fall of modern civilization as it relates to my life.

Cory has been much busier with work since we got back from our vacation in October. He carpools to work most days with his best friend from high school who recently moved back to Utah and took a job at Cory's firm. This is convenient for them both because whenever they are running late, they can blame it on each other so their wives do not get mad at them. Or so they think. He has also recently been called to be the Assistant 11-year-old scout leader and Valiant 11 Primary teacher. Zachary LOVES having Dad as his teacher and leader. Cory insists to our kids that he is the "meanest Dad in the world," but they don't buy it. Mom is much meaner.

Zachary has become such a dependable boy the last few months. He takes on his chores and schoolwork with responsibility and focus in a way I was afraid would never happen. He is extremely upset with the BCS at the moment because how dare they put Texas in the rankings below two of the teams they beat this year. (Don't ask me...I try to lay low every Saturday from here to the end of December.) He just won his school's Reflections contest in literature for an essay he wrote titled, "Why I Loathe the Kansas Jayhawks."

Noah has officially started the Junior Jazz basketball season. I haven't been to a single one of his games/practices yet because I am just too darn busy, but I hear he is a dynamite rebounder. I had parent-teacher conferences last week, and his teacher basically told me that she can no longer evaluate him on reading because he has passed off every level available in his school. They do individualized spelling in his class as well, and she is set to run out of lists for him in February. She says that she is taking it as a personal challenge to make sure that Noah is challenged...I really like her.

Isaac has hit that magical stage where reading suddenly and dramatically clicks! He taught our FHE lesson last week and had everyone write lists of things they are grateful for; he was so proud to write his own list instead of drawing pictures as he has every year before now. He is still so sweet and compliant, but he definitely is used to being one of the "little kids." He has a hard time believing that I really expect him to do all of his chores every day.

Anna is all set to perform her role as a mouse in this year's Utah Artists School of Ballet Presents: The Nutcracker. I went to the dress rehearsal yesterday and had the time of my life. This is the greatest stage performance I have ever witnessed...I could watch it every day for the rest of my life! I laughed until I cried. Fox 13 News came to the dress rehearsal too, and there was a sweet close-up of Anna (yawning) in her mouse costume on the 5:00 news.

And then there is me..I am busy with Relief Society, classroom work, driving kids to and fro, maintaining my home, preparing for the holidays, and a million other seemingly little things that somehow fill up my days to bursting.

The Results

2008-11-29T07:16:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all had as wonderful day as we did. So wonderful, in fact, that I haven't quite made it to the computer yet to finish off my Thanksgiving thread...I know none of you are exactly hanging in suspense, but here is the final preparation result.

The turkey went in the oven at 9:36 a.m.

We sat down at the table at 2:13.

We were finished by 2:47.

17 hours of preparation? Worth every last bite.

Oh, and on a side note...one of the families we invited for pie didn't make it so we have just a leetle bit of leftovers if anyone wants to stop by.

Pie Day

2008-11-27T07:09:00.000-08:00

Chocolate Cream

Coconut Cream

Pumpkin

Triple Chocolate Pumpkin

Boysenberry

Crumb-top apple

Peach

One of my slaves

12 hours and counting (although I guess technically there's a lot of down-time while pies are baking)

Thanksgiving Update and a really exciting opportunity!

2008-11-26T10:13:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about adding a tally of the number of sticks of butter used in this meal, but trust me, you don't want to know.

Yesterday I finished all the rest of the piecrust and put them in my freezer...one more hour and we're up to 7 now I believe. Today is going to be a pie-baking marathon; I think my 2 ovens will be running continually for about 8 hours. I'm looking forward to this part though, because my kids get out of school early today and I can't wait to put them to work. They will love it for about the first hour, and anything after that is pure and simple "character building!"

Don't you just love the fact that no two pie plates are the same? There's a metaphor in that somewhere I believe.

And now in news unrelated to cooking, I had something really exciting happen yesterday. Many of you know that our Stake is the host Stake for the new Draper Temple. It's nearing completion and the open house will start in January; the dedication is scheduled for the end of March. I had a meeting with a member of the Stake High Council last night and was given an official call to sing in one of the Dedication choirs. This is a wonderful and humbling privilege since only 16 members of our Stake will be asked. I am so grateful for the talent I have been blessed with and the opportunity I have to use it to praise its Source. This really is a once-in-a-lifetime event!

Tabula Rasa

2008-11-25T07:30:00.001-08:00

Aren't these piecrusts so full of potential as they sit here naked on my counter? Who knows what they will grow up to be? Will they live a wholesome life of fruit ala mode, or pursue a richer existence of cream and chocolate? Only time will tell.

Two picrusts down, only five more to go...and yes it would have made more sense to make and freeze all the piecrust yesterday, but my life sort of interfered with pie-making. Out of curiosity, who came up with the phrase, "easy as pie?" Either it's someone who never actually made one or that phrase used to connotate something entirely different.

Preparation Count at 6 hours.

5 Days of Cooking for 20 Minutes of Eating

2008-11-24T06:33:00.000-08:00

In order to keep an historical record of what it takes to put a Thanksgiving Dinner on the table, I have decided to make a daily update this week of all the preparations. Don't get me wrong, this is not an effort to complain or make my husband feel guilty for watching football on Thursday. I LOVE Thanksgiving...I love to plan, I love to cook, I love to get the family together and EAT. I think in recent years Thanksgiving has become my favorite holiday. But it's also a lot of work, and I thought it would be enlightening for my own benefit to document exactly what it takes to pull off this kind of event.

So here is where we are so far. I have already decided the menu...we're pretty traditional around here. I have done Thanksgiving about 7 years now, so I'm sticking with my old tried and true standbys for the most part. However, I do like to try out a couple of new recipes every year. This year I'm making a new stuffing recipe, I'm replacing my usual broccoli with brussel sprouts, and I am even tweaking the pumpkin pie a little. That's right, I'm a rebel with a cause.

Once the menu was finalized, I did the grocery shopping on Friday and Saturday last week. So between planning and shopping, we're up to about 4 hours of preparation.

Last night the actual cooking began. I made the cornbread for the stuffing so that it would have enough time to get nice and dry and stale. I actually made double cornbread because I knew that if I filled the house with the aroma of hot cornbread and then told the natives they couldn't eat any, I would have a mutiny on my hands.

It was hard work getting them to leave the second half alone, but boy aren't they going to be grateful when they see this beautiful stuff in its second life on our Thanksgiving table.

So by the end of Sunday, the preparation count is at 5 1/2 hours. No one has cried yet.

Do we have to talk in order to agree, or agree in order to talk?

2008-11-17T19:17:00.000-08:00

One of my early childhood memories is of an adult friend of the family calling me, "Chatterbox." Even though I was probably only 6 or 7, I could distinctly detect the sarcastic and unkind edge to the seemingly innocuous remark. It apparently did no lasting damage; however, because as an adult I talk every bit as much as that chattering child. I've heard it all through the years...motor-mouth, jabber-jaws, and my personal favorite, diarrhea mouth. And I will be the first to admit that I talk way too much.

But there is something I have discovered about this weakness of mine. Talking is how I figure things out...it's part of how I learn. For some reason it helps me to understand if I vocalize my thought process. I have many friends who are exceptionally internal. There are days and times when I long to be silently reflective like them, but that nature is as foreign to me as I'm sure my talkative one is to them. So I hope those of you stuck within the sound of my voice will be patient with my endless discussion. If you only knew how hard I work at keeping things to myself and listening better to others; I think you would truly be amazed. And despite this trait/flaw? I am an ironclad secret keeper.

You may wonder what brought on this moment of introspection? This morning, I sent Zachary upstairs to do 4 things. I sat in the office responding to email where I could clearly hear his progress. He did not stop talking for one second in the 20 minutes it took to complete his tasks-- (including brushing his teeth, by the way). Finally, I yelled upstairs for him to just be quiet long enough to finish so that he would not be late for school!

And then the phone rang, and I picked it up, and it was the pot. He said, "Hey kettle, you're black!" and then he hung up. Pots can be really rude sometimes.

Happy Birthday Noah!

2008-11-11T12:16:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, I was lamenting the fact that Noah has already grown out of another pair of church pants. I keep telling the kids to knock it off and stop getting bigger, but they are either not listening or grossly disobedient. I swear, I just bought those pants like a month ago for Noah's baptism. And then I remembered that Noah's 9th birthday was the next day! How does this happen?

So in honor of his birthday, I decided to document some of the great things about Noah today. (Actually, I'm a day late, his birthday was the 10th, but somehow yesterday I blinked for about 2 seconds, and then the day was over.)

Noah is one smart cookie! He has been able to read anything since he was 5. It is a joy to me that my passion for reading has been passed on to my child. As a toddler he could sit on my lap literally indefinitely and listen to stories...now he disappears for hours with his books, surfacing only when he has finished.

I am still waiting for the day when Noah will need my help with his homework, but he is so capable and independent that I think it will never come. At some point, maybe he'll ask me about trigonometry and I'll have to confess that I don't remember anything about it. That will be a sad day because right now he thinks I know everything.

Noah takes good care of his little brother and sister. He is the one who is always willing to play board games with Isaac, to read stories to Anna, and to play inventive games with his siblings in the back yard.

Noah is cheerful. When I picture Noah at any stage of his life..baby, toddler, boy... it is always with a big smile on his face.

For his birthday yesterday, I brought lunch from Taco Bell to him at school and ate with him in the cafeteria. For dinner, we made individual pizzas, topped however we wanted, then we went to a juggling show at the library. We came home and ate birthday cake (chocolate...it's not fair that all of my children insist on chocolate birthday cakes when I don't like it) and opened presents. On Saturday, he is having a birthday party with a few friends from school. It seems such a short minute ago that he was baptized last year, and only slightly longer when we brought him home from the hospital on an unusally warm November afternoon.

Happy birthday Noah!