Journaling

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

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.

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Summer, Help Me!

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

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

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

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.