Cornbelly's & 'Decking the Halls'

The best thing about being in pre-school is going on all the fieldtrips.  And even though, this is Ben's second year in pre-school, he doesn't get any less excited about upcoming fieldtrips. He really anticipated going with his class to Cornbelly's at Thanksgiving Point last Tuesday, especially since we missed it last year thanks to the stomach flu.

Monday evening we packed our lunch, so we wouldn't risk missing any excitement the next day and at five o'clock Tuesday morning I woke up to the sound of a seal barking; only it was Dallin, with a horribly croupy cough and gasping for air.  After two trips of sitting on the front porch bundled in blankets the cold air helped, he was breathing much better, and went back to bed. 

But what about the field trip? I couldn't send Dallin to school to cough all over his classmates, but I didn't feel like he could go to Cornbelly's with us the way he was feeling. I figured Ben, probably, wouldn't go to Cornbelly's without me, but I decided the least I could do was to drive him there and pick him up. 

Hoping Ben would go for it, I woke him up and explained the situation. No go.  He cried and insisted  he wouldn't go at all without me, so I said we would have to miss it again this year. By this time Dallin was awake, looking a little perkier, and coughing less.  He said he would go with us if we didn't stay long. So I may be a bad mom, but off to Cornbelly's we went.

We stayed long enough to jump a little...

...slide down the slides...

and visit the pumpkin patch.

Dallin was a trooper and did lots of snuggling with mom while Ben and Emma played. He was happy he was able to take home a pumpkin and that his brother got to go on his fieldtrip.

One of our family's favorite holidays is Halloween.

Who's isn't it? Right?

So Wednesday, for Family Home Evening, (yes, that's not the usual night, but since Richard was going to be home we waited) we kicked off the season by pulling out the halloween totes and putting up our decorations.

Ben and Dallin enjoyed making the yard into a graveyard with Daddy.

Ashton was too busy doing this....

...to help much, but he would occasionally stop to give us his opinion on how things should be done.

Emma was okay with everything as long as she didn't have to get too close.

And of course, you can't have FHE without treats, so we went to Krispy Kreme for 2 dozen doughnuts.  We kept one to eat with apple cider at home and took the other to a fabulous family who we admire a lot.

It was a 'sweet' way to kick off what we hope to be a 'spook-tacular' Halloween!

(All corniness intended.)

Shoot me now

So I did it.

Now my heart is pounding, my mouth feels dry, and I feel like I might vomit.

I've been thinking about this since May and talking about it since August, and now that I've done it, I am wondering what I've done!

I just registered for my 1st half marathon.

Just writing it my stomach lurched.

It isn't until May in Ogden, so I have 7 months to add 6 miles onto my run. Easy, right? Except, that about 5 of those months are cold, some are snowy, and I move about as well as molasses in the cold. 

At least, I will be in good company.  My brother Dan and his wife Shaleece, will be running it; along with newcomer, Nathan, another brother of mine. I would love it if you would join us!

I'm not talking about setting any goals yet.  I'm just going to get through the winter and see how it goes. 

Okay maybe just one goal...get through the day without losing my lunch.

Watch it! That's my friend you're talking about.

As I checked down my list of blogs to see what new little goodies had been posted this morning, I saw a new one on this  friend's blog. I clicked the icon and was whisked away into her blog world.
I have enjoyed this friend's blog for a little over a year now.  I started reading after the plane crash happened, so I got to know her through  her fans/friends reposts of their favorites of her pre-accident blog posts. When she came back I was excited to hear about how life was now; post crash.

I worried that things had changed; that she had changed. She could have easily- she had every right to, but she didn't. If she did, it was for the better.

While reading her blog post today, I was still kicking myself for missing her appearance on Oprah yesterday. I ran off to Costco and forgot to set the DVR. I think it had something to do with subconsciously not wanting to watch Oprah. (Yes, I hear you gasping.  But everybody loves Oprah! Not this body. I don't necessarily dislike her...but that is a controverisal tangent for another day.) So friends, if anyone recorded it and wouldn't mind sharing or knows where I can view it online I would be most grateful- even if it means I will be watching Oprah.

Anyway, while reading her latest post, which included what I thought was absolutely beautiful picture of this friend of mine, Dallin, wanting the computer, looked over my shoulder and made a derogatory remark.

I felt anger rise in me.

 I snapped back and launched into that she had been in plane crash where she was badly burned and that it was not her fault.  His grin faded and I could tell he felt bad; either from the story or my harsh tone, I'm not sure which. I remembered that this was a child I was talking to, so I apologized for snapping and softened; realizing, what I hoped to be a teaching moment.

Before I knew it, my mouth was spewing forth the oratory about beauty. You know the one we all recieved from our own mothers at one time or another growing up.

It went something like this:
"...True beauty comes from the inside. It does not matter what people look like on the outside, it is what they do and say- who they really are that matters. You shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, meaning we shouldn't judge a person by what they look like; we should get to know them first..."
I even said, "Pretty is as pretty does."

When the oratory was done; all canned phrases repeated, and every word that I swore I would never say to my children spoken, I realized that probably for the first time in my life, not only did I know those phrases- I knew them.  I believed them.

Over the course of a year, through nienie's words, attitude, and simply who she is, I have been taught many things. But probably, the biggest accomplishment for me...was that she turned me into a believer.

Sanity Secrets

For the last 2 ½ months a lot of Richard and my conversations have gone somewhat like this...

Richard- “I have a business trip next week in England.”

Me- “Really?” “I want to go.”

Richard- “Then the next week I have to go to Tucson.”

Me- “Okay.”

Richard- “Then the week after that I’m going to Pennsylvania.”

Me- No comment. I look for a chair in order to sit down.

Richard- “Then at the end of the month I’m going to have to go the Philippines or India, I’m not sure which yet.”

Me- (Sigh) Where is that chair?

Richard-“Then to New York and Phoenix and then I should be able to stay home a while.”

Me- Forget the chair, I collapse on the floor.

Throw New Jersey and another New York & Pennsylvania in there, and you will have the last few months of our lives.

Really, I am not complaining. I have been very lucky this year with just a few trips here and there until now. It has been and could be worse. He counted up how many weeks he traveled last year and came up with the number 25. If you figure there are 52 weeks in a year, he was gone almost half of it….so I count myself very lucky. I think that single parents should be awarded something spectacular because I have had a taste of what they experience. I'm sure they will get their just reward in heaven- where it matters most.

I have friends and family who ask me how I do it and express that they would be insane if their spouse was out of town so much. This makes me feel good. They think I am still sane!!! I thought I bought a ticket on the 'crazy train' years ago. So barring that they are just being nice, I have decided to share my top 3 ‘Sanity Secrets’ with you.

#1- Prayer. And lots of it. There is no other power by which all of my children are still alive (especially #’s 1 & 3). They are a walking testament to the power there and that miracles do still happen.

#2- Caffiene. Yes, I am one of those “bad Mormons” that may have a slight dependency on stimulant laced substances such as Wild Cherry Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, and Mountain Dew; all of the diet variety of course. That one, maybe two- okay, three on a really bad day, ice cold pick me ups is a Godsend when my tank is empty. Plus, I am hoping all my prayer will get me an allowance in this department.

#3- Adult interactions. I love my children dearly, but at the end of the day I need to have a little more stimulation than hearing all about various Pokemon and the damages they do.

There is nothing like getting together with adult friends and talking about interesting subjects and current events happening in the world. Okay…. so that rarely happens to me. When Richard is gone face to face interactions are few and far between- almost nonexistent. (You realize how pathetic you are when you really look forward to a PTA meeting because there will be real live adults there.)

This is where you, my dear blogger friends, come in.

I love to read blogs. I love people and I love to know what makes them tick. Each time I interact with you by reading a post, I get a little glimpse into who you are and what makes you tick. And even if I can’t have face to face interaction with you, I start to feel like I know you. You become my friend, whether you like it or not.

I was chatting with a friend the other day and the subject of blogs came up. She said, “I don’t get up to read the news; I get up to read blogs.” I thought… That IS news!!! The very best kind of news! Because it is about someone you might actually know. And if it isn’t someone you really know, at least, it is someone that you care about enough, even if it is just because you enjoy their writing style or humor, that you give them a portion of your day by reading about their world.

This is the interaction I am talking about and love.

Your trials and triumphs, adventures and mishaps, trips and photos, are the news I crave. I laugh along with you or, if fitting, I laugh at you. I cry when you are hurting. I contemplate your views. Often, I do all three together. Sometimes, I sit quietly letting your words penetrate; absorbing the lessons you teach me. I most often comment, except when I hold back because I feel like a comment pest or have never really met the blogger who I am reading.

Recently though, I accepted a challenge to come out of my “blurking or blog stalking” shell. It has made all the difference in fulfilling my adult interaction quest. It feels good to let people how much I enjoy what they do, what they post...the little bit of their world they share. Sometimes they respond back and I love that- more interaction with an adult mind, acknowledging that I am there. Sometimes that is all that matters.

So you see, dear blogger friends, what you do is important. Keep up the good charity work you are doing. Keep on posting!

My sanity depends on it.

Never Say Never

Cedar Canyon 2009 

When Richard and I were dating and newly married we loved to go to the theater. Musicals, plays, and the occasional concert were a favorite past time of ours. With our fondness for plays and the fact that we lived in Utah, it was no surprise we found ourselves headed to The Utah Shakespearean Festival located in Cedar City one summer. To make a long story short, we loved the festival, but for some reason we HATED Cedar City. I vowed that I could NEVER live there.

Fast forward a couple of years, Richard was asked by his supervisor to interview for a specific job. She felt he had the needed leadership skills and knew he would benefit from the promotion. The promotion and coveted job were located in….Cedar City.

No way! Remember, we hated that place.

Plus, we just had our first baby and I was a week away from starting my 2nd year of nursing school at Weber State. This was not a good time to be quitting school, packing up, and moving four hours away from any of our family.

But in all actuality, it was the best time to be doing all of those things.

No, wasn’t the right answer- and we knew it. We felt it. So off to Cedar City we went. And do you know what? We LOVED it. For 3 ½ years we proudly called it our home.

Then Richard phoned me one afternoon to tell me he had been talking to his boss again. There were some sites that were struggling that could really benefit from Richard’s experience and once again, it would be a worthwhile promotion. Our choices were Killeen, Texas or British Columbia, Canada.

The choice seemed easy. Texas. The alternative was not even a choice. Canada? I could NEVER live there.

And so the magic words were said. Our fate sealed. Kamloops, British Columbia, became our home for the next 3 years and 3 months… to the day. And do you know what? We LOVED it and still do. I ache to see those tall lodge pole pines, to be asked if I want my milk in a beg (bag), and not to have people smile or laugh when I say “eh”. But all to soon our time there was over, life was to move on- as much as we hated it- we knew it. Again, we felt it.

And so the magic incantation brought us here.

The answer is…yes. I said it. “I will NEVER live in Happy Valley.” And, “I definitely, would NEVER want to live in Provo.” You would think that I would’ve learned my lesson by now, but who knows… maybe the third time really is the charm. Three and a half years later, I’m thinking…I might be right.

Thanks to the help of my parents watching our kids, Richard and I were able to run away last Thursday and Friday to Cedar City. We visited old friends, ate at our favorite restaurants, took in a play, walked the campus where I finished nursing school, and after years of not being back to visit, we toured our once beloved town.

It was an incredible feeling. I was struck with how much you leave of yourself behind in a place that you love. It was like we never left as we took in the brilliant blue sky set against the red rock landscape. We drove familiar streets and relived our life there.

Emotion swelled in my chest and tears blurred my vision.

I was grateful there is someone who would not accept NEVER as my answer. Who has eternal eyesight to see beyond the here and now to view the entire plan for me; who knows beyond my mortal comprehension the lessons that needed learning and the growing that needed to take place so that wonderful experiences could happen.

And dare I say it…. Provo is one of them.

Me with one of my best friends, LaRae.

The best fast food place to eat at in Cedar, Hermies. I highly recommend the grilled turkey & onion rings washed down with a Vanilla Coke. 

On the beautiful SUU Campus.

At the play "The Complete Works of William Shakespear- Abridged".  It was hilarious.  If you can get the chance to go see it, you won't regret it.

Fall in Cedar is breathtaking.  Right Hand Canyon and Cedar Mountain certainly didn't disappoint with their fall colors on display.  

Last stop before heading home, Cedar Breaks.

Hands off..that's my job!

BOING!

My eyelids open. I steal a peek at the clock- too early. Problem is…I can't go back to sleep. I am wide awake at least an hour earlier than I need to be.

Why? I petition my ceiling and those beings that live beyond. WHY?
Then WHACK! I take a hit from a little hand; flung in fitful slumber and suddenly my blanket is gone- stolen by the other little body I am sandwiched between.

Okay, answer noted.

I grab another blanket and was just about to lie down across the bottom of my bed, far from the kicking feet of toddlers, when the chill in the air catches my attention by attaching itself to my arms in the form of goose bumps.

What the...? The furnace should have come on by now...it shouldn't be THIS cold. I stumble out into the hallway where the thermostat hangs on the wall. I was greeted with nothing. Absolutely, nothing! It was blank. I flick it... hoping that will make it work...still nothing. I notice a battery panel... did you know thermostats use batteries? I didn't until now.

Down to the laundry room, pull out the battery box...no AA batteries. I find a walkie talkie on the dryer, steal the batteries from it, feed the thermostat, and hear the furnace roar back to life.

Back in my room I find a space amongst the little bodies in the jig saw puzzle I call my bed and lay there mentally tallying my list of things to do today against my stamina of 4 1/2 hours sleep.
Totally lopsided.

 Again, I petition my ceiling and those who live beyond, "Do I HAVE to be the Mom today? Can't it be someone else’s turn?"

I feel weepy. When I'm tired I get that way; and I am tired. The lack of sleep that accompanies the nights when Richard is out of town, coupled with children who need comforting in the night and storms that blow open doors, setting off alarms that scare me senseless, were all adding up.

As the pre-dawn light changed into brighter day, I push myself onto my knees knowing I would need every ounce of help I could get today. I finish and head for the shower, knowing if it didn't happen now, it wouldn't happen at all.

It helped. I threw back that shower curtain ready to take on the day.... no towel. I tip toed to the linen closet, careful not to wake any slumbering children who I might scare into a stupor that years of therapy most likely would not undo...empty.

The ceiling is petitioned once again, "Come on...really?!?"

I streak down the stairs- praying all the blinds got closed last night, so my neighbors won't be treated to an unwanted early morning peep show. Towel found and safely back in the shelter of my bathroom I proceed to get ready for the day. Deodorant- check, lotion the arms, now the legs....hold on...they don't feel the same...one is still prickly. I shaved only one leg.

That was it. I was done. The ceiling wasn't petitioned, it was told, "I think it would be better if I took a day off and went back to bed."

But we know that moms don't get days off. There were places to go, things to do, and I was the one in charge. So pity party left behind, I started the usual routine of waking kids.

As I tousled bed head hair and kissed sleepy cheeks good morning, it struck me. I wouldn't want anyone else to do this. This was my job. Tired or not, I was the one I wanted those sleepy eyes to see first thing in the morning and it was my voice telling them "I love you" I wanted them to hear as they left for school.

And as for the craziness... it is my craziness. I do it very well might I add. And as I stare into the refrigerator and realize that I'm really looking for my checkbook, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Disappointed

Disappointed.

I simply love that word.
 
I discovered the power of "disappointed" when Ashton was 4 or 5.  He had done something wrong and upon discussing it with him I mentioned how "disappointed" Daddy would be.  He looked at me with anguish in his face and moaned,  "I can't handle disappointed! ANYTHING but disappointed!"

I realized that "disappointed" still has a spell on my oldest, as yesterday, I found him and a friend selling counterfeit Pokemon cards to his younger brothers for a $1 each.  He was very proud of his money making venture until I told him that what he was doing was deceitful and that I was "disappointed" he would do such a thing.

It didn't take long for him to come to me with that anguished look on his face and admit that he felt bad about what he had done and he was going to give them their money back.

Isn't having a conscience a wonderful thing?

"Disappointed" had worked it's magic again. So back into my bag of mommy tricks it goes until next time a conscience needs pricking.

Then, I guess to get back into my good graces he felt the need to do some serious brown nosing....not really I just couldn't help posting these pictures of how he enjoyed the last piece of German Chocolate cake last night.  Seems he has a hard time keeping that handsome mug of his clean.

I suppose I should be "disappointed" in his manners, but it was too funny at the time. When you see him you'll have to ask how German Chocolate cake tastes when it's inhaled?