The Life & Times of K-Squared

Remembering

2011-09-09T08:29:00.005-06:00

This weekend marks the 10th anniversary of 9/11, and I thought it would be worthwhile to record some of my memories and thoughts of that wrenching day. This blog is for my children, and I believe its important that they hear firsthand accounts as often as possible, so as to never forget. And I don't want more time to pass before I start to forget as well.

B and I were living just outside of Washington, DC at the time, in the suburb of Alexandria, VA. I normally worked from home - telecommuted with my office that was in San Francisco - and B worked overnights and would sleep during the day. September 11th was a Tuesday, and the weekend before B and I had been in NYC to take in a Yankees game and see the sights. In fact, we even stopped on Liberty island to take pictures with the twin towers in the background. We made it a long weekend and just returned on that Monday back home. The morning of 9/11 was different than usual, as I was heading into DC to meet up with the CEO of my company (Jane) and go together to do a media training for Amnesty International. I got on the train early in the morning and was cut off from all news until I arrived into DC. As I walked into the hotel lobby I saw a bunch of guests crowded around the tv in the hotel bar. Jane hadn't come down yet to meet me, so I walked over to see what they all were watching. I thought it was way too early to be a sporting event, and I couldn't think of any big news events that were taking place that morning.

About that time Jane came downstairs to tell me that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. She seemed concerned that it could be terrorist related, and a bit distracted by it all. We went up to her room where the Today show was on and started to watch. Just a couple of seconds later we all saw the second plane hit the tower and suddenly we knew that this was no accident and something serious was happening. I don't know how much time passed - it wasn't long but news was coming at such a rapid fire rate it was hard to take it all in. President Bush made a statement confirming that it was indeed a terrorist attack and all of the news outlets were reporting that planes were being forced to land all over the country. They couldn't account for all the planes in the air - some weren't responding to the orders to come down immediately. No one knew how many hijackers there might be, or where they were headed. Somehow we figured out that two planes were still missing, and both were believed to be headed for DC. Jane's hotel was directly across the street from the capital building and we sat there as the news kept flooding in that planes were bound for the capital or the white house. Then we heard a huge blast and the news was reporting a bomb went off at the state center (just a short distance from where we were). Below us we could see all of DC fleeing on foot - they were evacuating all government offices but no one could drive. It was a mass exodus but we were stuck in the hotel not allowed to leave. We had intermittent cell reception but my dad was able to get through and confirm that I was ok and then B called and was insistent that he wanted to come in to the city and get me. This really upset me because they weren't allowing anyone in or out of DC by any mode of transportation and I was terrified that he would get lost from me and we'd never meet up. Once I started to get upset Jane started to lose it, so I quickly sucked it up. She was far away from her family in the Bay area with no idea of when or how she might make it back. We heard about the plane that hit the pentagon (I assume now it was the loud explosion we had heard earlier) and knew that one plane was still out there, headed for DC and most likely the capital building.

In writing this it seems there must have been a long time between all these events, but most of them were near simultaneous - bumping up against each other and shifting our focus from one devastating concern to the next. I don't remember how long we worried about plane #4, but we eventually learned it had gone down in a field in Pennsylvania. In subsequent weeks and years we would come to know a lot about what happened on that United flight #93, but at the time we just recognized that they didn't succeed in getting to DC. In reality there were many great men and women on that flight who made sure that no one else was hurt. I could pause here and marvel at technology and the speed at which information is passed. Granted, much of it was mistaken and fed upon itself in a frenzy of panic, but so much of it was accurate and helpful. If not for the benefit of cell phones and plane phones those people on flight 93 would have had no idea or opportunity to do anything extraordinary. I am grateful that they did. And I am grateful (as I am sure their families are) that they had the opportunity to say some goodbyes.

Much of the rest of the day is a blur to me - we sat transfixed in front of the television listening to report after report. At some point we saw both towers crumble to the ground - pretty much as terrifying as watching the planes fly into them. DC was a ghost town - if you've ever been to that part of the city you know how erie that experience would be. Much like any big city it bustles with activity, but DC has its own energy - its full of purpose and grand illusions and power. It never settles down, is never quiet. It was difficult to see it like that. The trains started running again in the afternoon, and I think I left to go home around 3. The metro didn't stop at the two pentagon stops, but you could see the devastation as we went by and the smoking, gaping hole it left. I remember weeks/months after 9/11 Charlie Sheen made some kind of comment that there never was a plane that hit the Pentagon - that it was all some crazy conspiracy. In later years he would undoubtedly prove his lunacy to the entire world but I pretty much lost any respect I might have had for him after that comment. I saw it with my own eyes, and there was no doubting it. If you've never been to DC you may not realize that a major highway cuts right next to the Pentagon. I thought a lot about those drivers on that highway who experienced the scream of jet engines just over their head and felt the blast and quake of the impact. I'm amazed there weren't more car accidents.

Like most everyone I knew, life seemed to stop for a while in the days after 9/11. Being in PR there wasn't much work to do - no one seemed to care about pitching stories that weren't related to 9/11. And I couldn't take myself away from the news. I don't remember doing a whole lot that week - just sitting in front of the TV transfixed by one gut wrenching story after another. I remember all of the people in downtown NYC looking for their loved ones, begging anyone to help them find them. And I remember the horrible horrible replay of the people who chose to jump out of the 100th story of a building rather than be consumed by the heat and smoke and flames. I remember the heartbreaking interviews with the CEO of Cantor Fitzgerald, who lost nearly all of his employees. He would have died too if not for his child starting kindergarten that day. In fact many people were late to work on 9/11 because it was the first day of kindergarten. I remember marveling at how the terrorists hadn't counted on kindergarten. I remember the bewilderment at how something like this could happen on American soil and why we ignored so many violent warnings in the past decade. I remember all of the heroic stories of first responders who gave so much to try and save as many as they could. I remember feeling united as a country, but united in our suffering and in our sorrow and in our shock. I remember B dragging me out of the house that Friday night because he said all that news watching wasn't good for me.

Now, 10 years later and with the benefit of hindsight, the best lesson I've learned is that the terrorists didn't win. Oh, they struck a mighty blow that scared and wounded us for a time. But what they really wanted to take away from us - where they really wanted to damage us - well they failed miserably. If they were hoping this act would send us terrified and running, they certainly were wrong about that. If they were hoping it would turn us against each other and against our leaders, they were wrong about that too. If they hoped it would crumble us to our knees and weaken the fibers of what we stood for and what we represented, well they were wrong about that too.

Our nation isn't perfect, and it certainly has struggled mightily in the decade that followed 9/11. But I don't fault the terrorists for that - some of that was our own hubris at work. What the terrorists did accomplish was to unify our sense of nationality and to remind us what this great nation stands for and how lucky we are to be a part of it. Most, if not all, of those directly responsible for 9/11 have been found and brought to justice - most of them are now dead.

In the 10 years since 9/11 B and I have gone on to have two beautiful children. We've bought a house, we've been educated, we've held jobs, we've traveled, we've bolstered our economy and we've continued to reach for the American dream. And the same can be said of most people we know. So no, the terrorists did not win then and they have not won since.

And so I will let my children know that THAT is the greatest lesson to be learned by 9/11, and the one we must never forget.

A Most Meaningful Moment

2011-08-07T19:42:00.005-06:00

Today was Fast and Testimony meeting, and for all of you non-LDS people that means it was a chance for members of the congregation to stand up during the main service and bear their testimonies. It's not scripted, and there is no one telling you to go up - its simply an opportunity if you feel so compelled to share your personal thoughts on your faith.

My children love to do this. I'm not sure if they do it because they feel prompted by the Spirit or because they love the limelight (ahem, K2), but I indulge them for two reasons: 1) its something they can do completely on their own and 2) I know that those small, child-like expressions of belief help to solidify their faith and will serve as the building blocks for their future testimonies.

So today, after the service started and the kids realized it was Fast and Testimony, they were ecstatic. They both asked "can I bear my testimony?" and together race walked up to the podium. Their testimonies were typical stuff - I love my Heavenly Father and I know He loves me, I love my family, I know the church is true. When they were done they came back down the aisle beaming at their accomplishment.

Fast forward about 10-15 minutes and I glance over at K2 who had been munching on jelly beans and listening to her friend's mom Emily bear her testimony. She looked up at me and pointed to her stomach as if to say it hurt so I responded with the obvious "quit eating jelly beans". She shook her head and whispered to me that it wasn't that her tummy hurt, it was just that she had such a powerful feeling inside of her and it was making her cry. I asked her to describe the feeling and she said it felt like she should bear her testimony again.

I explained that we really didn't bear our testimonies twice in one meeting, but that she could always bear it again in her heart. And then I tried to explain that what she was experiencing was the Spirit, but she just seemed so bewildered by the powerful feeling inside her. We left the meeting and I took her to the foyer and explained that the Spirit testifies to us of truth, and that when we hear truth and recognize it, it often feels very powerful inside of us - so powerful that the tears are just forced right out of us. It was an odd sensation for her - wanting to cry when she wasn't hurt or scared or mad. So she just laid on my chest and sobbed it all out and I held her, recognizing the power in the moment and how incredibly lucky I was to be sharing it with her.

When she was done she wiped her eyes and asked if we could go back into the service. I took her by the hand and when we sat down she reached for scriptures and read them for the rest of the meeting.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most profoundly precious moments of my life. I am helpless to explain why I have been gifted these two amazing human beings, but sometimes I am in such awe when I study their perfect faces and imagine our forever family that a powerful feeling surges within the pit of my stomach and all my tears are forced right out. And the lesson I just tried to teach K2 comes back to me, full force.

8 is Enough (for now)

2011-07-03T07:55:00.008-06:00

I could talk about how long its been since I last posted (disgraceful!) but I'd rather talk about my firstborn. It's been a big month for him ... he just turned 8, had a fun birthday party and - most importantly - decided to be baptized. Yesterday was the big day.

I now know why mothers rarely take part in the program at these events. Between asking everyone to participate, coordinating the logistics, getting K1 a suit and pictures done and sending out announcements and creating the program, setting up the room and preparing for the lunch afterward I was grateful I didn't have to speak as well. Luckily we had plenty of family to fill those roles.

I was so touched by everyone that came for his baptism - to support K1 in this big step and to support us. We have a very small family in LDS terms, but we are richly blessed with wonderful friendships. It was such a comfort to me to see a full room and know that people went out of their way to celebrate such an important day with us.

I was impressed by how focused K1 was. Typically he's the can't-sit-still, loves-to-be-silly, life-of-the-party type who we are constantly trying to get to settle down and focus. Today he seemed to do that all on his own.

Of course memory being what it is, I don't remember much of what was said. I do remember one part of B's blessing - he said K1 was the type to always find the joy in everything, and that talent would serve him well as he fellowshipped with others and when he serves a mission. I loved that, mostly because its one of my favorite things about K1. He just wants to be happy.

So now that my baby has made such a big, important first step in his own unique and personal relationship with his Heavenly Father I can't help but be both excited and nervous on his behalf. Excited because his future is so bright and I know it will be filled with so many amazing experiences and spiritually enlightening moments. And I'm nervous because his future is filled with twists and turns and sometimes bad things will happen, or sad things or scary things and he'll have to rely on his faith and sometimes that might be all he has to get him through. It's hard when you're reminded that you can't just take their hands and do everything for them.

So for today I will try my best not to stew about all those things that are out of my control, and instead just focus on the beauty and the joy of the moment. I'm proud of K1 and his important choice. I am honored to be his mother and that my own Heavenly Father entrusted me with such an important and joyous job. And I am reminded of my own baptismal covenants and the job I have to strive to live my life in such a way that will demonstrate to K1 how vital faith is to navigating our futures.

I love you handsome. All my heart.

Birthday Blessings

2010-09-30T15:35:00.010-06:00

So the thing about you K2, is you sort of sneak up on people. For those who know you well, they'll think that's an odd thing to say. I mean, you're pretty forceful by nature. You're not quiet, you're not shy, you most certainly are not timid. You have a way of making your presence known every where you go. I marvel at how you insist that people notice you. You're not obnoxious or even annoying about it - you're just confident in your conviction that you are worth knowing.

But I'm not talking about any of that when I say you sneak up on people. I've had the privilege of watching you now, for 6 blessed years. And I see the way people are around you - how they clamor for your attention. I see how kids race to give you a hug or sit next to you, I see how their parents call out your name to say hi or how their faces light up when you call out their names. I see how strangers will get lost in conversation with you - sharing all kinds of information and finding little trinkets to give you or small compliments to pay. I see how they want to make you feel as good as you've made them feel. It's all very subtle. It's not that you walk around with a spotlight on you. You're an adorable little girl, but there are lots of those in this world. There's something else - some 'je ne sais quoi' that I can never fully pinpoint but that is as much a part of your being as your hair color or your foot size or your attitude or your spunk. You make people feel good.

You sparkle. You shine. When you direct your attention to those around you they shine as well, and I have yet to meet anyone - young or old, male or female - who is not drawn in by your inexplicable light. You make life brilliant.

And even though its your birthday, somehow I feel like its me that's been given the gift.

THESE WOMEN

2010-09-27T13:31:00.005-06:00

If I had a wish for the world, it would be that everyone had a group of THESE WOMEN to hold on to.

THESE WOMEN are reflections of the best parts about me.

THESE WOMEN exhibit all that I am striving to be.

THESE WOMEN are relevant, smart, interesting, beyond beautiful and can't-catch-your-breath hilarious.

THESE WOMEN are kind, accepting and honest.

THESE WOMEN are spiritual giants among men.

THESE WOMEN have created success in family, in work, in friendships, in personal growth, in life.

THESE WOMEN have created a bond that won't ever fade.

THESE WOMEN have only improved over the last 16 years.

Maybe it's silly to keep blogging about these trips and saying practically the same thing, but where would my life be without THESE WOMEN?

Ack!

2010-09-21T05:49:00.010-06:00

I have GOT to blog about our most recent vacation or I am never going to. I've been terrible all summer - we did some amazing things (Royal Gorge, Steamboat, California, Grand Lake, New Mexico) and I didn't blog about a single one. So when my poor children look back on their lives all they will see is ... nothing. I'm terrible.

I did have some great pics on my phone that I was planning on supplementing with the pics on my computer, but alas I dropped my phone in water and had to replace it (second time this year. Yes, I am that person). So, we will have to settle for what was left on my camera and my blog won't be nearly as interesting, colorful or well-rounded. And with that rousing introduction - here we go!

We were blessed with a 4-day school break shortly after the kids started, which was coupled with a weekend, and when our family sees something like that looming at us our family figures out where we can go! This year we decided to head back to Florida for some Disney-flavored R&R. The last time we went to Florida the kids were 2 and 1 respectively, and while we had an awesome time with them, we decided now would be a good time to head back so they could actually have some memories.

Our first day was spent getting to our hotel (Grand Floridian, I highly recommend) and checking out Downtown Disney where we picked up the obligatory Christmas ornament (we get one for all of our trips) and K2 got lost for 3 minutes and she panicked and I panicked and all was well.

Day two we headed to Universal Studios, to check out Harry Potter World. I get this anxiousness inside of me when I am trying to fight a crowd, and let me tell you people - I am good at it. We're fast walkers and we're not timid people, so while still trying to maintain relative decorum we kicked some serious A trying to get to the back of the park before everyone else that was standing in the entrance line made the exact same beeline.

Fortunately it wasn't too crowded - the longest we waited was for the first thing we did - seeing the wand "show" at Olivanders. I put show in quotations because demonstration is probably a better word. It takes less than 5 minutes. Except for the group that went in right before us which took about 30 minutes. Murhpy's Law.

Right after the show they shuttle you into the very cramped store where you can purchase a wand of your own. And by cramped, I mean my walk-in closet that never fits all my clothes feels roomier than this. But the kids were over the moon to get to choose a wand (ahem, the WAND chose THEM) and begin casting their spells.

(Side note: mommy struggle. For months leading up to going to HPW, my kids were insistent on getting a wand and a broom because they were absolutely positively sure they could do magic and fly. I vacillated between wanting them to have this bit of fantasy, and not wanting to see it come crashing down as soon as they discovered the truth. I tried to tell them gently that wands do not do magic - well gently at first until they made fun of me for being dumb and then I got a little more heated in my assertions. In the end they proved me wrong as K2 mastered the "smile" charm where she could make any one smile she pointed her wand at, and K1 mastered the "winguardiam leviosa" charm where employees' items just kept flying up out of their hands. I did draw a line at buying a broom however, as I was not going to figure out a way to make those things fly.)

So after Olivanders and a ride on the Hippogriff roller coaster (K1 and Bryan went on the Forbidden Journey ride but much to K2's dismay she was not tall enough and much to my dismay its a simulated ride which means I get nauseous faster - and neither of the kids were tall enough for the Dragon coaster) we headed over to the Three Broomsticks for a little Butter Beer and Pumpkin Juice. The former tastes like a butterscotch cream soda and the latter like a heavily spiced cider. The kids and I liked both, B wasn't such a fan of the Butter Beer. I recommend getting both in the slushy format rather than straight up. And HPW wouldn't have been complete without stopping in the candy shoppe, where we picked up some chocolate frogs and (we marveled at this later) did not buy Bertie Botts Every Flavored Bean.

So after leaving HPW we headed to the second most exciting place in the park (at least in my humble opinion) Dr. Seuss land. If you know me at all you know I am a HUGE Dr. S. fan and my family is as well. We had fun riding the trolley train through Seuss world with a narration that covers A to Z, and riding the Caro-Seuss-sel where all of the creatures are whimsical and even riding The Cat in the Hat ride (which has always been my least favorite Seuss story and even as a small child, created some measure of stress in me when I read it. Perhaps it was the mess?). We didn't eat at Green Eggs and Ham unfortunately because we had eaten at the Three Broomsticks, but I am confident we would have liked them in the park, in the dark, on the train or in the rain.

The rest of the day was spent seeing the other sites at the park, which were fun and enjoyable as all great amusement parks are, but weren't quite as magical as the first two lands. I only had to deal with two work "emergencies" (side note: what constitutes an "emergency" in my book versus my clients' books are two vastly different things). All in all a great day and we hadn't even begun our Disney adventure.

Honored

2010-09-09T20:28:00.006-06:00

So while I was on vacation (more on that to come!) the Young Women in my ward had an activity where they etched plates that represented women of each of the YW values (Woman of Faith, Woman of Good Works, Woman of Integrity, etc). After etching the plates they next chose a woman from our ward that represented each of those values to them. At the following week's activity, they each made a treat to fill the plates, and delivered them to each of the women.

I was so touched that they chose me as one of the women - the one for Virtue. They said that I was a good example to them because I can be modern and stylish, yet still retain my virtue.

I have the privilege of serving as Young Women's president to these dear, sweet girls who have taught me so much, and whom I have grown to love as though they were my own daughters. I feel a big responsibility to live up to the image they have of me and the ways in which they respect and admire me. I do not take it lightly.

For now though, I will enjoy my award. As a good friend who was given the title of Woman of Integrity said - it doesn't say anything about being humble! ;)

(Internal) Mommy Wars

2010-08-18T21:27:00.007-06:00

The nature of my work life is such that it can take over sometimes. It's a trade off - there's a lot of flexibility (generally speaking) and I don't have to ask permission to take a day off or go to an appointment. I get to work from home, which means I haven't ever had to leave K-squared. And that last point has been the biggest blessing of my life to date (save having the kids in the first place).

But then there are days like yesterday. Days where I make the grave mistake of actually making plans and thinking that I can have some sort of control. It was the day before the first day of school, and even though it was a Tuesday I thought I could get away with pounding out a few things in the morning and taking an easy afternoon to do things with the kids. I wanted to take them to get hair cuts, I wanted to take K2 for a mani/pedi, I wanted to let them choose items for their lunches at the grocery store, help them choose clothes for the week, play with them and snuggle with them and have B give them blessings before the start of the new year.

And then work blew up. In a big way. And I think it was about 6 pm when I finally crawled downstairs and sunk down on the couch and pouted to B that I didn't get to do anything I wanted with the day. And B suggested dinner, and using up the multitude of tokens we had saved up for the local fun center. And it was so hectic that even during dinner I had to drive home to send something to a client and drive back. By the time we got home, got the kids settled and in bed I was ready to cry. So I did.

The reason I cried wasn't because I was stressed, or because my day was never ending, or because at every angle I feel like I'm having to fight to keep clients, and that for some reason, I'm having very little success with one in particular. The reason I cried was that I felt like such a bad mom. All I had wanted to do was spend time with my kids and help prepare them for the school year ahead and cap off a most amazing summer with a blissful day of happiness.

B was very helpful, as he usually is in these situations. He reminded me of all the things I did for the kids all summer, all the experiences I helped them to have. Our summer was so jam packed, in fact, I never had the chance to blog about it. We had an amazing few months - we didn't waste it.

So I've been reminded yet again that I can't always be the Martha Stewart mom I have in my dreams. I can't devote all my time to my kids, and even if I could I wouldn't. The love I have for my babies is staggering, yet I am still my own kind of mom.

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) spending every minute of the day with them.

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) sitting on the floor and playing barbies or cars or go fish.

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) indulging in the silliness, or the tears, or ever - even for a moment - babying them

-- I do not show my kids love by (very often) waking up early to make them a hot breakfast, or going on field trips, or planning the class parties or heading the PTA

-- But I DO show my kids love by fostering their independence, and encouraging them to discover, learn and grow on their own

-- I DO show my kids love by listening to their stories, valuing their opinions, and treating them with respect

-- I DO show my kids love by exposing them to adventure, opportunity and new experiences every chance I get

-- I DO show my kids love by complimenting them, encouraging their strengths and talking them through their weaknesses; by expecting the best of them and giving them my best in return

-- I DO show my kids love by making sure they always look well cared for, snuggling them incessantly, and constantly reminding them how lucky I am to be blessed with their presence

So what I've learned this week is that I may not be that Martha Stewart mom I idealize - the one who wears an apron and greets the kids after school with fresh baked cookies and spends the day splashing at the pool and sits down to create every manner of craft with them at the kitchen table. My mind is often distracted and I'm pulled in a million directions and I'm stressed and sometimes even frazzled. But wow I love my kids. I love them so much I cry when I can't be with them. And when you look at these personalities... is it any wonder?

Without You

2010-06-20T14:58:00.003-06:00

Without you I never would have known that you may need to wash an article of clothing 27 times to get the stain out.

Without you I never would have experienced laughter through sheer exasperation and frustration.

Without you I never would have known that my blood pressure can go that high.

Without you I wouldn't know how to work the 25 remotes we have.

Without you I wouldn't know that you can swallow a nickel and have it come out the other end in a very short amount of time.

Without you I wouldn't know that I could engage in a very passionate argument with a three year old (or a four, five or six year old).

Without you I wouldn't know that dream catchers really work, if you just believe.

Without you I wouldn't know that drinking peroxide - if caught early enough - could be managed without much concern.

Without you I wouldn't know that a six year old needs a cup to play baseball.

Without you I wouldn't know what half the cars on the road are.

Without you I would have forgotten the rules to Candyland, the joy of running through a sprinkler and how much wonder there is in a bug, a leaf or a dump truck.

Without you I wouldn't know how stinking cool boys are.

In short, without you I wouldn't be me.

Happy 7th Buggers.

Diary of an Amazing Kid

2010-05-22T08:11:00.005-06:00

So K2 keeps a diary - a little iCarly number that comes complete with lock and key. Because she's five she lets me read it and I take her up on her offer because a) I love the insight into her adorable little mind and b) well if you knew me for more than half a second you know I never miss the chance to be nosy.

So anyhow, I had to share in case (heaven forbid) something ever happen to this diary. Some of these entries need to be immortalized.

Here are a few that warm my heart (all spelling and punctuation are exact - if its confusing, I've added some parenthetical clarity):

"I like to listin to my parents that is the best thige (thing) that cold hapen."

"I like to be agresiv in coccer. I like coccer the most."

"I have a Diary of a Whipy Kid that is alrieis (hilarious) it is so funny that it ckracks me up. I am so funny that I ckerack myself up."

"I like who I am. My name is prittie I like my name so so much that it is the pritieist thig in the wholl wide world."

And one that make me just a little (tiny bit) unnerved:

"I have a crush on Cooper. I do not want eneybodey to tell. Cooper has a crush on me that makes me inberist (embarrassed). Things ubout me are preetie funny beacas im a litlle gril and litelle grils no (know) much beacas they can do thigs and they can writ better then boys. I think Cooper is cute beacas he is asam (awesome) and Braden beacas they are so so cute that I want to kiss them but I am a litell inberist so ole (I'll) wate util I am 25 years old so that I and Cooper or Braden can live Happely after ever."

The Dangle Theory

2010-05-16T16:48:00.003-06:00

For the last couple of weeks, I've been experiencing little pangs of sadness from time to time. Nothing serious - just momentary pauses where I am overcome by a sense of loss, of reflection. It's an excruciatingly busy time right now, so for the most part these pangs come and go with out a whole lot of dissection. It is true that when you have a family you have very little time for self-examination (though its probably also true that we could all benefit from a little more reflection. But I digress).

So these pangs, I think, come from a couple of different sources. The first is that right about this time I would have been giving birth to baby #3. It wasn't meant to be, and I'm pretty ok with that, but several friends have given birth recently or are about to and I can't help but recall that - had things gone differently - I would be as well.

The second pangs come from the ever-unforgiving passage of time. I try not to revel in nostalgia - let's face it, there is little you can do about time moving forward. And I'm a forward thinking person, not a reflector on the past. But nothing throws time in your face quite like watching your children grow up at breakneck speed in front of your eyes. Another school year is coming to a close, and I have no more kids in kindergarten! When did this happen? And both my kids had off-the-charts growth spurts this year. They are hardly recognizable from where they were just 12 months ago.

So the other day I took the kids out for a while so B could sleep off a cold. The recent spate of wet weather meant sports were canceled (again) so we found ourselves running random places to window shop and explore. At one point I had to take K2 to the bathroom, and as she sat there I saw her little feet dangling. And I realized that most everywhere my kids sit their feet still dangle. They want to be big - they say big things and we have big conversations and - more often than not - they stump me with wise thoughts and penetrating questions. But try as they might, their bodies just don't yet fill up any seat. And as long as they're still dangling I've got time. Time to baby them, time to grab them up in my lap for a snuggle, time to teach them while they still think I know everything. I can still grasp their ever-growing hands in mind and lead them across a busy street, or home through the park and (most times) they don't pull away.

One day their bodies will catch up to their too-grown-up-for-their-own-good-brains and they will fill in those seats and they'll be trying to maneuver gangly legs and arms in small places. But for now, they dangle.

And I take a deep breath, and the pangs subside.

My Passion

2010-05-12T09:35:00.001-06:00

So I started my career in journalism (broadcast to be exact) and one of the number one things I love about being a journalist is that it forces you to learn a little about a huge variety of topics. It's not that I could necessarily call myself an expert in any one thing, but I sure do have a lot of beginner's knowledge in a wide array of subjects. And having to turn around and create copy or write stories explaining those topics meant that I had to delve deeper on any given subject so that I could pull the most vital pieces of information and package them in such a way that general audiences could understand - usually in less than 2 minutes.

So then I made the transition to PR and the learning didn't stop. In fact, it just got deeper. You see, a PR person's job is to educate a journalist. I can't count the number of times I've been on the phone with an editor who decided to start grilling me about the subject or industry I was pitching. It means you have to be on your toes, and you have to know a lot more than just the narrow topic you're trying to sell. Otherwise, you lose your audience. And that means you lose the story.

It's hard to quantify the number of subjects I know far more about than I ever thought I would have wanted. Things like electronics manufacturing, memory modules, storage and server industry standards, medical device technology, cutting-edge cancer treatments, different kinds of stitching and washing on high-end fabrics, which countries offer the best tax breaks and import/export opportunities, search engine optimization, global health epidemics and - as of today - small form factors in embedded computing.

Some might read that last paragraph with a yawn and a heavy sigh. And even though those words can sometimes make me go cross-eyed as I search for a way to disseminate the information into palatable marketing and press materials, I still find myself invigorated. Knowledge is power. Not power over other people necessarily, but power over circumstance. Knowledge takes you places. It's impossible to learn something new and not be moved.

I am grateful that there are experts in this world, and that those experts are patient with me as I try and pick their brains and utilize all of that knowledge for the areas where I've got some expertise - publicity. How fascinating this world is when we open ourselves up to any respectable information that comes our way. Even if it is small form factors in embedded computing. I am a better person because I can now (falteringly, yes) speak about them. And knowledge builds upon itself. So many times I study one subject only to find it helps me in a completely unrelated area down the road. Amazing!

So K-squared - if you want to know what drives your mom, if you want to find a little piece of that exhilaration I enjoy, go read a book about something you've never heard of, go try an activity that scares you. Go test your outer limits and acquire some new piece of knowledge you thought beyond your capacity. Then, share it with someone else.

After all, its the only thing we'll take with us when we go.

"I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday." - Abe Lincoln

My Favorite Role

2010-05-09T20:45:00.004-06:00

Been thinking about motherhood today, for obvious reasons. It's a complicated thing, being a mom. On the one hand its the abstract - perfect trips to Disneyland and teaching gospel principles while picnicking at the park and raising well-adjusted kids who go on to accomplish everything you dream for them.

On the other hands, its the concrete - blowing noses and tying shoes and packing lunches and doing homework and overseeing endless scheduling conflicts and cleaning up the same mess for the fifth time that day.

In reality, motherhood is somewhere in the nebulous, in the in-between. Too much focus on the abstract and you never see what is actually real, and too much reality can make you lose sight of those lofty ambitions. It seems to me that success is understanding that the dream, the power, the hope of motherhood lies in all the day-to-day minutiae.

I've only been a parent for six years - that hardly makes me an expert. And the kids are young enough that I haven't had a whole lot of time to take a breath and focus on the bigger picture. But on those rare days - days like today - when my earthly self gets a little closer to the spiritual self and my mind is opened to what I'm really doing, I recognize that it's all those little moments that add up to the big picture. The drudgery, the frustration, the repetitiveness, the often never-ending and rarely thankful job is absolutely everything that matters to me.

You see every time I remind my kids to sneeze into the crook of their arm, every time I insist they drink water or milk over soda and juice, every time I remind them to say a prayer before they eat, I am showing them I love them. Every time I grab them in a snuggle, every time I make them clean up their room, every time I read them a story and every time I insist they try their best I am showing them that - above anything else - I value my role as their mother and I consider it the most sacred thing I could ever do.

While the kids will certainly remember some of the 'big' moments in life, and those moments will have their own unique impact, I'd like to argue that its all those little moments when added up together that will really shape them into who they are. Every time I remind my kids of something I've already said 100 times, I impress upon them what is most important and who I want them to become. And every time I volunteer in their classroom or make their favorite dinner or remind them to buckle up they are once again comforted by the knowledge that there are absolutes in life and that, no matter what, I have their best interest at heart.

I am immensely proud of my children - in a way only another parent can understand. But I am also immensely proud of how their presence in this world means I get to take on the role of mother. I want them to know, I do not take it lightly. Even on my bad days, they are the two most perfect beings that have ever existed. And mothering them - even on their bad days - is my own little slice of heaven.

Trademarks, Shouldbe's (and catfish too)

2010-04-26T20:14:00.005-06:00

Aw hell to catfish (that's for you T!) its been a looong time since I blogged. And for some reason the longer it goes, the more insurmountable it becomes. Every time I sit in front of the computer I'm plagued by the shouldbe's. I should be working on a myriad of work things. I should be responding to emails both professional and personal. I should be blogging for posterity. Those shouldbe's can really weigh you down.

But what I've really been thinking about lately is trademarks. In the world of marketing/branding/PR its vital that you put your stamp on everything you create so no one else can stake their claim to it. So why shouldn't we do that in our personal life? Because there are some things that are indelibly ours. So here are a few things I'm most proud of (or at the very least, are really never going to change):

* In our house, we are not wallflowers. This means there is a lot of, ahem, passionate viewpoints thrown around. Yes we can get heated, yes we can raise voices, but yes we all have thick skins. It is true that we could all benefit from a good chill pill once in a while, but I don't think I would trade our passion and vigor for all the calm and peace in the world. We have opinions, we share them, we thrive off of them. We are not a go-with-the-flow kind of family. Trademark.

* If there were two words that you could use to describe K2's attitude most of the time, it would be righteous indignation. You see, no one is more confident in how right they are then K2, and no one is less afraid to stand her ground. And when you have that kind of confidence, you can't help but be a little short on humility. And yet she combines it with such personality, sweetness and magnetism that you forgive her (ummm, how do I say it?) sheer arrogance. Even when she - at 5 years old - is arguing with you on the right way to spell a word. You know you're right (of course you are) but you will never convince her otherwise. Now that's confidence. Trademark.

* K1 can be a little sensitive sometimes, which probably wouldn't be so noticeable in another family but stands out a bit in our house. But the thing about K1 is, no one gets over something faster than he does. He may be super upset - angry or hurt or frustrated - and a simple hug, a funny joke, a sly little smile in his direction and he's over it. He just can't hang on to sadness, no matter how hard he tries. The kid just lives to be happy, and it's a good thing because he has the best smile in the universe. He may make you a little insane with his incessant energy and penchant for silliness, but its impossible to be down when you hang around K1. Trademark.

* In our family, we're not so much with the sticking around the house. We're adventure-seeking, new-experience-needing kind of people. It often translates to last-minute plans, long drives and random, out-of-the-way places. We have our schedule and structure same as the next guy, but any time we get a brief break in the have-to's we go find some want-to's. It's not that we're crazy thrill seeking dare devils (though there's a small bit of that in each of us), but its more that we realize there is a great big world of possibility around us and whatever it is, its got to be more interesting than sticking around the neighborhood. This fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants approach has made for kids who travel really well, but its always been a little hard to find friends who can be as last-minute as we are (and who have the same sense of randomness). But if you're looking for an anything-goes weekend with no limitations or expectations, give us a call. We're there. Trademark.

It would be great to file a patent or register a trademark for everything we love that makes us unique. Even those things that are hard, that take effort to manage, shouldn't be changed. They are what make life worth living, they are how we leave our own indelible mark on the world around us. And its those distinct traits that get me through all the shouldbe's of my life. Trademark.

Ode to a Personal Hero

2010-03-02T08:32:00.004-07:00

Every once in a great while
your brain is touched both high and low
by writers who expand your world
like Dickens or Shakespeare or Poe.

But today is a day
reserved for the best
Today we celebrate Theodor Geisel
(Dr. Seuss to all the rest).

From the time I was a wee child
I relished the genius of this man
from Marvin K. Mooney and Bartholomew Cubbins
to Sam-I-Am in Green Eggs and Ham.

There isn't a story that didn't excite me
subtle, moral and funny, they were always on pitch
I committed to memory the shrewd lessons he taught
I learned from Horton, the Sneetches, and the Grinch.

As I got older I studied his politics
his feelings on racism, the environment and war
and I grew to admire this man's mind
beyond his children's writings which I adored

I revered his use of anapestic tetrameter -
no one could rhyme quite like this man
(you can see that I am trying,
but it is mostly just a sham)

And then I met a man
who loved the Seuss as much as I
I pledged my devotion to him in rhyme
as I became his loving bride.

And Dr. Seuss has played a part
in our marriage, our lives and home
whether its quoting, or decorating, or playing a game
we've taken something from every tome.

So I keep Dr. Seuss' genius close by,
he seems to understands the places I'll go
as I teach my children his masterpieces
and watch another generation grow.

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!

Scariest. Moment. Ever.

2010-02-15T21:46:00.002-07:00

So B and I just got back from our Valentine's trip to Vegas. It was fabulous. And true to form we forgot the camera so we have no pictorial documentation. BOO! Anyhow - I'll try and blog more about the trip later. Here's what I really want to talk about - the trip home.

We were set to come back late Sunday afternoon, and that morning we met my high school bff and her family for a huge brunch at the Wynn. Needless to say there were amazing eats and, needless to say, B overdid it. He doesn't have that button in his brain that most of us have that tells us we've had enough. If you've met B you know he doesn't really need that button (though I still maintain that if you check back with us in 20 years you'll find B stuck in a doorway because his metabolism caught up with him).

Anyhow, so when it was all said and done B realized he wasn't feeling all that well. It's not entirely uncommon for him to overeat and then not feel well - especially when presented with a lot of good food. We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon walking around the strip and he thought that was helpful to get things moving through him, which in most cases is usually all it takes. But in truth he was a bit lethargic and his stomach never did feel normal.

By the time we got on the plane he was grateful for the chance to sit and hopefully sleep. As we started to taxi and were about to take off, he pulled out his barf bag and said he really didn't feel well. I told him to breathe through his nose and out his mouth, and got my barf bag ready too. A few seconds later the retching and heaving started, and unfortunately it wasn't the quiet, delicate kind (is there such a thing when you are violently ill? probably not). After the second go round I hit the call button and B remained hunched over himself in what I assumed was an attempt to stay hidden from view and to await the next go round. When the flight attendant came over, she started asking him if he was ok, and B didn't sit up or respond. I leaned in closer to him and asked if he could sit up - asked if he was ok and to please answer. When he didn't respond to me I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up, only to see him completely gone - unresponsive and unconscious.

So then I started to panic a little. Or a lot. I just know I started to get hysterical and immediately everyone in the 10 rows ahead of us started yelling for a doctor. And then someone called for one over the loud speaker. And the two women sitting directly in front of me reached through the seats and grabbed my hands and told me it would be ok. From somewhere a man came up to us who was an EMT, and another man who was a dentist.

And then suddenly B took in a huge gulp of air. After that things slowed down a bit. He was able to talk, in between heavings, and he was making sense. He was void of color and still retching mightily, but he was awake. I was so terrified in that brief moment - thinking he aspirated his vomit or there was something far more wrong with him then just a stomach bug. It was such a relief to have him there again. They turned the plane around and brought it back to the gate and the paramedics came on board and took us off. After a quick examination they concluded that it was most likely some type of food poisoning and that we could either spend the night at a hospital or a hotel, but chances were good all he needed was a little peace and rest and a nearby bathroom.

So, B and I stayed one more night in Vegas at a hotel and I had an anxious night of sleep while I checked every so often that he was still breathing. And after the bout at the airport he really was much better and enjoyed a good 14 hours of sleep. We made it back home today. I am grateful my sister was willing to keep the kids and that the holiday made it easier on everyone to have us gone for extra time. I am grateful for the people on the plane who were kind, understanding, helpful and reassuring. But mostly I am grateful that B and I just have a crazy story to tell and nothing more.

It was a poignant reminder on Valentine's Day of what I love and why I love it so.

The Dark(er) Side

2010-02-04T21:41:00.005-07:00

As much as I like to seem put together, in control and well - successful, truth is that I am horribly ruled by my hormones. Not in the cuckoo-crazy way, and not in the psychotic knife-wielding PMS way. No, my hormones are more subtle, more insidious and more cunning. (Of course, its entirely possible I'm using my hormones as an easy out - but if its not hormonal that I've got I.S.S.U.E.S.)

There's at least one week out of the month were I LOATHE my looks. I hate everything about them. I can't imagine why I haven't been banned from proper society. There's another week where I think I have no friends, nobody likes me and everyone has moved on with their lives and forgotten all about me. Then there's the week where my patience is razor thin and my mouth is razor sharp. Somewhere in all of this I have a random good day, where I am feeling pretty freakin' awesome. One good day. That's what I get.

Now, before I start getting recommendations on institutions, let me just say that I keep this all pretty hidden. On the outside I seem pretty ok, and I AM pretty ok. These are deep, dark thoughts that - for the most part - logic easily quells. I know I'm no uglier one day to the next. I know that my friends are my friends, regardless of what day of the month it is. And I even know that my irrational reactions to irritating things around me aren't typical of how I generally am.

Despite all of these perception problems, I truly am a happy, optimistic person. I generally think the best about other people, can easily find beauty in everyone around me and am always up for something fun or adventurous. Both B and I believe that things have a way of working out the way that they should, and I know that more often than not people really are just trying their best. So why is that I give others so much compassion, understanding and leeway and give myself absolutely none?

It's an interesting question, one I don't have the answer to but one I expect plagues others too. I don't mean to be sexist, but I don't think its an issue men have so much - not like women. I see such a difference in the way K1 and K2 are. K1 lets so much roll of his back - a simple shrug, a laugh and its gone. But not K2. She is so particular - so determined. Everyone HAS to like her. Her work HAS to be the best. She HAS to be right. Is she just like me? Or is she just female? We can't blame it on her hormones just yet, but maybe she's headed down the same road of obsessiveness that I'm on.

I hear women of a "certain age" (and by that I mean older than me) talk about how enlightening it was to get to that "certain age" and finally figure out they don't CARE what other people think and they're not in the business of pleasing others. I really don't consider myself a people pleaser, but I would like to get to the point where I am in love with myself and damn the rest of the world. I want to get there sooner rather than later so I can pass that on to K2, but if history is any indication K2 may just have to get their on her own. It seems to be a place that can only be traversed alone. Until then, I'll keep blaming hormones and avoiding my I.S.S.U.E.S. Seems the most happy, optimistic place to be.

Pet Peeve: Taking Offense

2010-01-16T21:55:00.003-07:00

I have a lot of pet peeves - as I'm sure we all do. So many in fact, I may devote more than just one post to this topic. (So get excited, something to look forward to!)

Today's post however, is the pet peeve of people taking offense. I JUST DON'T GET IT. I guess I'm not someone who's offended easily, or maybe more to the point, I can recognize when offense is actually meant and when it is not. B might disagree with me here, but to him I will say sometimes I just like to pick a fight or pretend to be bothered by something just to watch him squirm. It's true.

But back to the pet peeve. This post is not the result of a specific event, its just the accumulation of times when I see someone taking offense at what is truly inoffensive. People do it when they feel someone has derided their culture, or their heritage, or their religion or their way of life. They do it when someone says something remotely constructive but that is construed as hypercritical. They jump to defense to protect their children or their choices or their actions. They even take offense by what people don't say or don't do. In short, it often seems that people are just looking for ways to be offended.

I don't get this - wouldn't you rather assume the best of people? Wouldn't you rather believe that they just weren't thinking, or that they meant nothing specific by their comment, or that they were honestly just trying to help? Wouldn't the world just be a happier place if we could practice a little benefit of the doubt?

I ask you - nine times out of ten, is anything ever gained by taking offense?

I rest my point.

A Love Story

2010-01-11T22:35:00.004-07:00

This is not one of those fairytale love stories, the kind that start with your eyes meeting across the room and ends with happily ever after.

It's not one of those Hollywood love stories, the kind that start with you hating everything about each other and ends when you're thrown together and discover how much you love all the things you thought you hated.

This is not one of those fated love stories, the kind that starts with forces greater than yourself pulling you toward one another and ends with your submission to the powers-that-be as you are inexplicably brought together.

And its not a star-crossed love story, the kind that seems so perfect on the outside but that is destined for failure.

No, this is an unexpected love story. The kind that catches you off guard on a random Tuesday when you are looking for everything but love and slowly unveils reasons that not only should you be together, but that you bring out the best in each other when you both really try. It's the kind of love story that gets stronger and more sure - not in spite of, but because of, the challenges and struggles you endure.

It's the kind of love story that can't help but at times feels ill-fitting and tired, but just when you think you've reached the end of your capacity to forgive and to compromise and to grow, you find immeasurable reserves and remember what it is you are working so hard to achieve.

It's the kind of love story that gets better with age - not fairytale better, but real life better. Real in the way it challenges you, real in the way it satisfies you, real in the way it strengthens you and real in the way that you know its something you can be proud of.

It's the kind of love story that experiences both peaks and valleys, but mercifully the peaks are higher and last longer than any valley depth. It's the kind of love story that provides an enduring partnership, understanding, commitment and genuine concern for each other, as well as a mutual respect and desire to keep working until every possible stone is unturned and every detail has been done right.

This kind of love story is quiet and sure - it doesn't parade itself for others to envy, and no one else would appreciate its rare and unique beauty in quite the same way. It's comfortable and relaxed and honest and it's the safe place to fall when everything else seems off-kilter. It's the kind of love story that doesn't need a holiday or an anniversary to be noted and celebrated. And its exactly the kind of love story you were meant to have.

My New Hero

2010-01-01T21:32:00.004-07:00

I had wanted to see The Blind Side ever since it came out, and last night we finally got the chance. It hasn't been far from my mind since. I immediately fell in love with Sandra Bullock's character, Leigh Anne Touhy. From about the first 10 minutes of watching her on the screen, all I could think was "I want to be just like this woman!" I loved absolutely everything about her - her unapologetic femininity, her obvious taste for the finer things without letting it define her, her concrete understanding of what she defined as right and wrong, her intense love for her children but her shameless high expectations for them, her ability to stand up for herself and put others in their much needed place without being rude, and most of all... her ability to not spend too much time thinking about it, but to just DO IT.

So if I have a New Years resolution, it is to be more like this woman. Maybe I'll get the movie and watch it from time to time to for an additional dose of motivation and inspiration. I'd like to find a way to BE more Christian, not just talk about being Christian. I'd like to be even more involved in my kids' lives so that I can always be a gentle reminder of our values and expectations. I'd like to find ways to be of greater service and to better help those around me - including those I know very little about. Most of all, I'd like to think a little less and do a little more. And I want to do all of that with no fear, and no apologies. I know what is right for me and my family, and its about time I stop looking for acceptance and justification, and just DO IT already.

Things that make you go hmmm (or more like AAAGGGHHH!)

2009-12-22T18:07:00.002-07:00

I feel your pain Joey. Oh, how I feel your pain.

Delayed

2009-12-16T14:55:00.005-07:00

Alright, this post is now officially six days old and for that - I apologize! But how can I let my baby sister's 27th birthday pass without reminding everyone why she is so A.W.E.S.O.M.E. (Side note: I never refer to her as my baby sister - mostly because she doesn't feel like that to me, but hey - if it gets under her skin a little then its worth it! haha)

So the cliche is that to know (said person) is to love (said person) but that's not exactly the case with April. I mean, I am sure many people love her just by simply knowing her, but if that's the extent of their relationship then they are cheating themselves. To really know April you have to be patient - you have to be willing to pull back the layers and see more than what she initially gives out. You have to work a little harder to discover how amazing she is. But all that work is worth it.

First off, she's got a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and a wicked sense of recall that allows her to always have the best come back at just the right time. She also is someone you can talk about ANYTHING to, and those kind of people are few and far between. She lets me make fun of her, and let's face it - I do that a lot. But its only because she makes it so fun (and she leaves herself wide open...).

Most of all, I can count on her. And we think alike. And she asks for my opinion and sometimes seeks my advice which makes me feel wise and worthwhile. And she's beautiful, which has nothing to do with why I love her but c'mon, she's freaking Audrey Hepburn.

Vacation, part 2

2009-12-06T22:25:00.010-07:00

OK, after we spent the first 3 days in Disney territory, we said goodbye to our generous hosts and headed down south to San Diego. This was B's first time in this city, and its a place he'd always wanted to visit. He loved it. After checking out the city a bit, we headed over to Coronado and the beach! Such a beautiful day.

We spent Thanksgiving at SeaWorld where the kids were enamored of the killer whale show (not Shamu. KILLER WHALE). I myself was a big fan of the 4-D Polar Express movie and a truly amazing roller coaster/water ride. We didn't buy the picture that they automatically snap on the way down, but K1 was in the front of the boat and had the BEST look of sheer anticipation and excitement on his face. It was awesome.

We ended the trip by heading to the Wild Animal Park where we rode in a super cool balloon that took you 400 feet in the air and had the best views of the park. If you've never been, its a beautiful place with some great animals including this: (a present for my BYU friends and one I won't even need to explain)

Here's the balloon, and the view:

It was a great trip, and a great way to kick off the holiday season. I am grateful for the opportunity we had to be together as a family, and create priceless memories. Now on to the business of soaking up the season!

Vacation, part 1

2009-12-03T08:31:00.011-07:00

For our little family, Thanksgiving is a time for travel. While Christmas is filled with traditions and history and a desire to be near family, Thanksgiving is our time to get away and enjoy something new. And despite the daunting recession, we were able to make a trip work thanks to frequent flyer miles and the most gracious hospitality of our dear friends the Hatch family who put us up for four nights.

So we started our vacation at Disney, staying in the beautiful Rancho Santa Margarita (where they have street names such as Avenida De Las Flores - imagine having to teach your kids their address!) where we were hosted by the fabulous Beda and Brock and their awesome kids (who were oddly similar in every conceivable way to my own children). We had great fun at Disneyland (despite crowds) and California Adventure which we really enjoyed and was a first-time experience for all of us.

We took K2 to Ariel's Grotto at California Adventure to have lunch with the Disney Princesses. I am SO glad we did it, it was 100% worth it to watch her absolute awe. In one of the multitude of ways K2 and I are alike, I don't think I ever see her speechless. Except here. They bring the princesses out one at a time, and they spend a few minutes at your table so you have a little time in between each one. During those times, K2 would just sit quietly staring at the place the next princess would emerge and too anxious to eat. She truly didn't have anything to say! When the princesses would come she would immediately hug them, stare at them, talk to them, take a picture, get an autograph and then sit and wait patiently for the next. I think I got her to eat two or three bites of her spaghetti through the whole thing. She even made a picture for Sleeping Beauty ahead of time and was so excited to give it to her. Sleeping Beauty made such a big deal about it, telling her where she was going to put it in her castle.
Worth. Every. Penny.

Oh and K1, who insisted beforehand that he had no desire to take pictures with any of the princesses, was so overcome with their beauty he had to get in on the action. Yeah buddy, just what I thought.

There's a million more pictures and stories and we haven't even moved on to our second phase of the vacation, San Diego. I'll save that for another post. To end this one, a photo that sums up how much energy the kids expended each day:

For Your (or maybe just my own) Viewing Pleasure

2009-11-09T23:09:00.005-07:00

OK I'm late, but here they are (drum roll please...). Peter Pan and Tinkerbell making their debut (and Happy Halloween btw):

Ace of Cakes

2009-11-06T21:12:00.003-07:00

So everyone has their secret dream job right? Maybe you're living your dream job, but chances are even if you love your life you have a secret dream of something you'd LOVE to do, LOVE to accomplish, LOVE to be good at. I'd LOVE to know what it is ;). Want to know mine?

I best most of you that know me really well would say my secret dream is to be a U.S. Senator. And you'd be right - it is my number one dream. And I'd be freakin' good at it people. Freakin' good. Maybe even White House press secretary. I'd be good at that too. Not hubris guys, just knowing my strengths ;).

But you know my even more secret dream? The one I never really share with anyone because truth is, I'm not sure I would ever be good at it? But oh how I would LOVE to be able to do it. I would love to be a world renowned chef. But not just any chef, a pastry chef. The kind that makes gorgeous, beyond belief cakes, cookies, confections of all kinds. Beautiful works of art. A veritable explosion of flavors and cutting-edge collaborations. Maybe I would even have my own reality show to highlight my fierce creations.

The only thing holding me back is my inability to branch out on my own in the kitchen - to experiment and not be afraid to fail. Oh, and my utter lack of artistic creativity. But that's it. Otherwise I would be awesome.

So I guess we're back to the first dream. Congress... here I come. And maybe if I find a way to be truly awesome, I'll bake everyone cupcakes while I'm there.

A Difficult Day

2009-11-03T19:30:00.003-07:00

I've been doing pretty well these past few days, despite. In fact, the last two days I've been downright... elated. Hormones? Just the 180 degree difference from feeling like utter crap to actually being human again? The clear skies and sunshine? Having enough energy to clean the house and actually cook dinner? Being caught up at work after a weekend of staying in and ignoring the phone? I don't know what it is, all I know is that I was just feeling good.

And then today I had to face calling the doctor, though I just didn't want to deal with it. The good news is that they weren't sure they needed to see me, as I just didn't want to be seen. But they did need me to bring in the "tissue sample" (I'm guessing you can read between the lines and know what I am talking about). So thankfully my sister was with me, and I sort of coerced her into driving to the dr's office with me. I didn't tell her it was because I couldn't bear to face it alone, I just told her it would have been more convenient driving-wise and of course it was nice to have someone stay in the car with the kids while I ran the errand. I met with the nurse and gave her the baggie - just holding it and dropping it off like a letter or a urine sample or a misguided drug deal - it was all a little disconcerting. After we talked about what to expect, I was left to take the long walk out and I couldn't help but cry a little into my dark sunglasses. It was all so... final. That was my goodbye, to my baggie. That was it. And then I just wanted out of that office and that building as fast as I could and if I never have to return, well that will be good enough for me.

And then tonight B and I sat down and told the kids. K1 actually took it so much better than I anticipated. He had been so overly excited, I thought it would crush him. But he just sort of nodded his head and gave us a hug and asked when we could get another baby. It was K2 that took it like the wise old soul she can sometimes be. She listened carefully at first, then as she slowly absorbed it I saw her face take it in and start to crumble. She cried - real, genuine sad tears. No drama, no wailing or sobbing, no milking it. Just quiet, sad tears. She stood up and hugged me. Then she sat down and cried some more. It took a while to console her. K1 went and got himself a snack. The thing is, K1's style is to ruminate a bit - he'll bring this up from time to time over the next little while, and he'll be sad about it when he's ready. But K2's reaction just killed me a little inside. But I know she will be ok, just as I am.

I can't thank everyone enough for the kind words, and the prayers, and the love. Thank you for the amazing meals, the yummy banana bread, the cheesecake(!), the going out of your way. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for wanting to be there. I am convinced that trials, tribulations and tragedies are the ways in which we remember and are shown how much we are loved and cared for. It is reaffirming.

And my next post will be happier. I promise.

Spoke too soon

2009-10-30T11:49:00.004-06:00

So even though I've known for about 5 weeks that I'm pregnant, we kept it to ourselves until that all important first visit where we got to see the baby and - most importantly - the heart beat. My first pregnancy I went in for that first visit, all excited and naive, and there was a baby but no heartbeat. Talk about a slap in the face. So ever since then I've sort of held my breath until I get through that first appointment.

I met with the doctor a week and a day ago, and saw the little peanut with its flickering heart beat, so strong and fast. I felt confident enough to accept that yes, I was pregnant and that this would be as good a time as any to start telling people. Including the kids. Who were over the moon, btw. Couldn't be happier - telling the whole world and dreaming of their new baby brother or sister.

Fast forward a week later to when the spotting started. And then the trickle. And then the full on bleeding. And the hardest part of all of this... the hardest stinking, stanking part of it all ... is telling the kids. I just feel like a failure. I can handle my own disappointment, struggle, pain, loss and eventual acceptance. But I just can't manage theirs. Oh my babies, I am SO SO sorry.

Sick and Tired

2009-10-22T20:10:00.003-06:00

So I had to go to the doctor today, and I've been sick for like a week. It's the ANNOYING sickness... the kind that lingers and zaps every ounce of your energy and changes symptoms periodically so sometimes you can't breathe because you're all stuffed up, sometimes you can't swallow because your throat is so raw, sometimes you can't speak because your voice is completely gone, sometimes you can't go three seconds without launching into another round of coughing. And sometimes, you feel just fine. Just long enough to think maybe you're on the upswing before it slams you back down again.

Anyhow, so back to the doctor. She decided that even though I don't have the flu, my symptoms told her I could be at risk for the flu. So after some careful calculations she decided I should go ahead and get tamiflu (apparently, this stuff can be hard to come by - they just don't give it out to anyone. So I should feel special). Before I left her office however, she made me wear a mask. Not just so that I don't infect others - she was quick to point out - but so that others don't get me worse. Suddenly I was the pariah of the whole place - people giving me sidelong glances and stepping out of my way as I neared. I'm not going to lie - for someone who doesn't embarrass easily I was at least a little self-conscious. Especially since I still had to hang out in the lab and the pharmacy. Of course I was also holding a cup of my urine, I suppose that could have contributed to the isolation.

Oh and tamiflu is EXPENSIVE!! $110 for a 5 day supply. And this is just preventive. I love that its not even going to help with any of my symptoms, instead it will just make me dizzy and have weird dreams. Super.

Oh and by the way, in case you're interested, I was at the doctor not because I'm sick, but because I'm pregnant. Thus the urine. And the labs. And the fact that none of these weak-ass home remedies to treat illness are doing me any good. Let the fun begin.

Pondering Belief

2009-10-17T14:40:00.003-06:00

I've had some thoughts swirling in my head for a few days, but I'm not sure I can do them justice and I'm not sure I can write them without causing some measure of offense. But, at any rate, I'll try.

It seems that in today's world (maybe just my world, maybe just my own head, maybe its always been this way) that there is a premium placed on owning one's own mind, using one's own God-given intellect, questioning authority, shining a light on every small misstep or potentially debatable topic. Anyone that knows me knows I love a good debate and the chance to scrutinize any given topic on its moral or ethical or even just factual merits.

But I fall short of being able to apply that measure of scrutiny to my church leaders, to the scriptures, and to my faith. Now, DON'T GET ME WRONG here. I have spent a great deal of time in honest contemplation, prayer and earnest endeavor to come to the truths that I believe. But for me, once I have gained a certain level of understanding or belief, that is it. I file it away and I question no more. When I accepted that the scriptures which I read are true and of God, I have never again looked to them to prove themselves to me once again.

When I determined that I did, in fact, believe in a living prophet and that there is one who guides a church on this earth today who is the mouthpiece of God, I have not had opportunity to question or disbelieve their words or actions since. Does that mean I follow blindly, unable to tell you what my own mind is on any subject, deferring only to those in "authority" to determine my actions or attitudes on any given subject? No, I don't. Not that I think there's anything terribly wrong with that because I believe that those who can demonstrate the simple faith of a child hold a special place in heaven. I also don't think there's something terribly wrong with those who do question and ponder and wonder and struggle. Both approaches have their strengths, and their value. I think most of us have found ourselves in each position, at one time or another.

What I guess I have issues with is this seemingly smug approach to faith that says if you believe and/or accept a religion, a faith, or a belief without needing to question and scrutinize and doubt it, you must be simple-minded, lacking in depth or reason, or perhaps just brainwashed. If you accept that something just IS (though you can't explain HOW it is or you can't understand WHY it is) why is it that others feel it their God-given intellect right to look down on you for your obvious aversion to reason and your inability to question or employ any kind of Socratic-method to such important life principles? Am I somehow more stupid, more simple, because of my faith? Because I'm religious? Because I believe, with unwavering doubt? Have I sold myself short, am I ignorant, am I failing the best version of what I should be?

This isn't a condemnation of how others feel or believe, I think its just a chance for me to stand up and assert that I am none of those things stated above. I know that my Heavenly Father blessed me with a gifted mind, and I have used that intellect to come to the conclusions of the faith that I have. I know that I have questioned, have sought answers, have struggled, have been reaffirmed of the truth over and over and over again. I know I have been blessed with the gift of faith, but I also know it is my job to exercise that faith or else I could lose it. I know there are times when I am stronger than other times, and it is those times of strength that I allow to carry me through my times of weaknesses.

It is a shame to me that so many times it seems that intellect, reason, academia and science seem to struggle to go hand in hand with faith, religion, spirituality and belief. I feel like I've made a place in my life for both, I just wish others would respect that as much as I respect their choices to question, ponder and so often in the end, disbelieve.

Learning Styles

2009-10-15T08:54:00.004-06:00

So if you're a parent you recognize that each new year (heck, each new hour) you are discovering new things about how your kids relate to the world. And how they learn. This is especially pronounced once the kids are in school and spend more of their time learning from someone other than you.

In the interest of full disclosure here, I should say that I am a very specific kind of learner. I'm not sure of the professional term, but in layman's speak I'm the kind of learner that has to get it right the first time. I'm a little anal when it comes to schooling, and learning. I have very little (ok, ok I have NO) patience for others who struggle. It's not fair, its not good, but my mom (an extremely gifted teacher) would only let me interact with the brightest of bright students in her classroom because she knew my tolerance level would only go so far. Which is to say it doesn't go far at all. You want to drive me truly insane? Stick me in a room with a bunch of people who JUST DON'T GET IT.

Anyhow, fast forward to raising my two little learners. First off, I should say that I have been extremely blessed by an all-knowing Heavenly Father who - in His infinite wisdom - recognized that I needed fairly intelligent children or the poor things would have to see a not-so-pretty side to their mom. Luckily, I've got two kids who do, in fact, GET IT. But still, they have their own unique learning styles.

K1 is more of a life-of-the-party kind of learner. He's naturally smart, but he's not so much what you would call conscientious. He reminds me of B (just another example of how - as my parents like to point out - B and I cloned ourselves). K1 is an amazing reader - I'm not sure I've found anything he can't read, but again if he's tired or distracted his reading gets lazy. He's a good speller - he almost always knows how to spell his words each week before we've even worked on them. However, throughout the week of practicing he'll easily misspell a word if he's not truly focused and listening. K1 would much rather have fun than be structured, but because it comes so naturally to him its harder for him to think he needs to "work" for it. He's a lucky boy because - as his teacher pointed out at his last conference - he's well-rounded in his intelligence and good at all subjects. But the struggle we'll have is how to teach him solid learning and studying principles now so that when things do get harder, he has the tools and skills to continue to excel.

Then we have K2, who is the clone of me. She is a perfectionist through and through, holding herself to such insane standards that she often gets mad and frustrated when she isn't able to recreate the perfection she has in her mind. She has a command of language unlike anything I've ever seen and a capacity for memorization that floors me. She has a weekly bible verse that she has to memorize for school, and she gets it after I tell her the verse once. She can spell K1's words and tell you the answers to his math problems - simply because she's overheard and memorized. In fact, when she reads its hard to tell what she is actually sounding out, versus what she has memorized. I prefer to have her read way above her level just so I can see that she truly does know how to sound out words, not just know them automatically. K2 HAS to be the best. She HAS to have gold stars next to her name. She HAS to know she's got a leg up on the competition. With K2, our challenge will be helping her to see that even when things don't turn out just right, even when she isn't the best in something, even when she might have to struggle to learn something new, that she's still good enough. I know first hand how easy it is to beat yourself up and hold yourself to an impossibly high standard, and I hope to teach K2 how to maintain that inner drive without letting it pull her down.

And so I would love to end this post by saying that not only do I recognize these unique learning styles, but that I strive to meet my kids at where they each are in their abilities. It's more true to say that I have been guilty of speaking harshly to K1 when he languishes over his work and doesn't seem too affected whether its right or not. I get frustrated when K2 jumps in to answer K1's homework questions to show that she, in fact, can do it too. I may have even used the phrase "I will not be the mother of the kid who..." OK, its not about me. I know that. But I just feel so incredibly passionate about learning and schooling and know that now is the time to instill these life-long habits for success. So while my kids learn, I learn too. I learn how to be patient and understanding. And most importantly, I learn how to accept their strengths and teach them to work through their weaknesses. After all, that's what I'm trying to learn too.

A Man on a Mission

2009-10-12T08:52:00.003-06:00

Yesterday K1 bore his testimony in sacrament meeting for the first time. He had mentioned that he wanted to a few weeks ago, but I had forgotten all about it. Then when the Bishop turned the time over to the congregation, K1 left his seat and headed to the podium with a fierce determination. It warmed my heart and made me just a little misty-eyed to watch him grab the mike and share these words with all the confident conviction of a 6 year old:

"I know my testimony is true. I know my family loves me, and I love them. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

And that, my friends, about sums it up.

Those Days

2009-10-06T17:21:00.003-06:00

Have you ever had one of those days where you just want your children to banish themselves to oh... I don't know... Outer Mongolia?

Have you ever had one of those days where you can feel your blood pressure rise exponentially while a dull pounding begins in your head and you feel your extremities start to shake out of sheer, utter frustration?

Have you ever had one of those days where you know everyone is turning to look at you speaking sharply to your kids but you just don't care because let them think whatever they want - give them 5 minutes with your child and see how they would react?

Have you ever had one of those days where you think you are but one small moment away from having your head literally (yes Sar, I said literally) spin off the top of your head yet your children are oblivious to it all and would rather continue their behaviors in absolute ignorant bliss of your reprimands?

Have you ever had one of those days where, in spite of all of the above, your children still ask you for everything under the sun and think you want them climbing and hanging all over you?

I'm having one of those days...

Fabulous Five

2009-09-15T18:42:00.011-06:00

Five ways you are just like your dad:
* Your appetite, and more to the point, your digestive system
* The way you chew on the side of your face *sigh*
* Your temper
* Your competitiveness
* How bugged you get when K1 whines

Five ways you are just like your mom:
* Your mouthiness
* Your need to be a perfectionist, to your own detriment at times
* Your ability to spin any situation, or talk someone to death to get what you want
* Your obsessive determination
* How you'll wear a pair of shoes if you really love them, regardless of whether they rub blisters or pinch your toes.

Five ways you are just like your brother:
* Your love of wrestling
* Your looks - I am constantly asked if the two of you are twins
* Your insistence on being ridiculously dramatic. Over nothing.
* Your love of everything adventurous
* Your inability to whisper, or to be discreet in any way.

Five ways you are indescribably you:
* Your ability to chat up anyone and everyone on the planet. Give you 30 seconds and anyone - in any situation - will be taken with you. There is no one who is not your friend. Whether they like it or not.
* Your obsessive need to have a place for everything, and everything in its place
* Your desire to sing, dance, - basically perform - ALL the time
* Your righteous indignation, and your lack of apology for it
* No fear. And in the extremely rare instance where you feel some hesitation, your ability to just plow right through it anyway. My how I admire that in you.

XOXOXOXOXO

Taffy

2009-09-14T22:35:00.005-06:00

I'm a few days late on this post, but hopefully my sister will forgive me. She's been forgiving me for things her whole life (well not so much forgiving as forgetting I suppose), but such is the nature of sibling relationships.

My older-but-you'd-have-to-hang-me-by-my-toenails-and-administer-chinese-water-torture-to-say-she-was-wiser sister celebrated a birthday this weekend. And I celebrated her presence in my life.

We aren't like some sisters - we didn't grow up holding hands and skipping off to school together. We were more the chase-each-other-around-the-house-and-brutalize-to-the-death variety. She typically bested me in a physical fight, but I always had her in a verbal one. We're just not the type to do things the easy way. We had to make the proverbial taffy - push and pull and stretch our relationship as far as it would go, so that when it finally snapped back together again we could truly appreciate it.

And I do appreciate it. I appreciate the way my sister is with my children. She's the "fun" aunt - the one who lets them get away with nearly anything, who thinks they hung the moon (and they're pretty sure she did too).

She's a real person, and she lets you be real around her. She's sensitive, far more than I am, but I can appreciate that in her and she can overlook my tendency to bulldoze.

She's someone who is there. No matter what, I can count on my sister. I can count on her when it matters. I can count on her no matter what quibble we've had - big or just seemingly so. I can count on her for anything I could ever need, at any time. If its in her power to give it to me, I know she would.

She challenges me, and she makes me try harder. She's a good person, and she constantly is working at being better. I'm proud to know her. Without a doubt, she makes life a whole lot more interesting. And without that constant push/pull, I don't think our relationship would be nearly so sweet.

I love you Middystone!

Good Times, Good Times

2009-09-09T21:05:00.014-06:00

In our house, we take advantage of every 3-day weekend that comes our way. Truth be told, we pretty much take advantage of every 3-hour break that comes our way. We are not homebodies.

So to that end, we took the kids to Mt. Rushmore for Labor Day weekend - a trip I've wanted to take ever since finding out it was only a 6 1/2 hour drive from Denver. There are those who thought that was too long for a 3-day weekend, and those are the people I really just don't get. How much time do you need people? We had a fabulous time and saw a whole bunch of stuff. It's true that much of the entertainment falls under the category of what *I* might call redneck/middle America/down home/good ol' boy fun, but we are not ones to quibble. If we're out of town, if we're having an adventure, if we're experiencing something new then we are pretty much happy as can be.

So here are some highlights:
* Stopping off at the Flintstones Bedrock City of Custer, SD. Sure, the kids have never heard of the Flintstones (and yes, I feel sufficiently old), but they enjoyed it nonetheless. Here we are on the train - K2 is perusing the pamphlet planning our trip; and the kids hanging out in Fred's garage:

* The next morning we hit Mt. Rushmore. It really is awe inspiring to see up close. My favorite was a toss up between Teddy Roosevelt and Abe Lincoln. Abe's face looked nearly lifelike with the brilliant wrinkling and face lines so integral to his features, but Teddy had those spectacles and somehow - even in a carving - they managed to make them look real. If you ask the kids however, they will tell you their favorite part was the gift shop. And the ice cream.

* We went to a cool place called the Cosmos Mystery Area where gravity truly does work in strange ways. I don't know why it is, and I didn't bother to ask a lot of questions but there must be some crazy magnet buried there or something. Your body doesn't act in normal ways. It was cool, different, and made me a bit sick to my stomach. That's because I've got these crazy sensitive inner-ear issues. But that's just me. Oh, and I forgot to bring the camera there so no pics. Boo.

* We then headed up to Deadwood as B was really interested in seeing it, but alas was really disappointed. Even though it has great history, its basically been turned into a lameA gambling town. We did eat lunch in the same place where Wild Bill Hickock was shot, so there's that. And the kids took part in the re-enactment with K2 (as always) making friends with absolutely everyone she saw including random old men and K1 (as always) walking around with a swagger as though he owned the place and really was the law in those parts.

* The next morning we headed to Reptile Gardens where K2 charmed a snake, and a giant tortoise charmed k-squared (and me). I really wanted to take this one home for a pet - we hadn't worked out all the logistics but figured it could ride up top with the wind in his - er - shell.

* Then we headed over to Bear Country USA, where you can drive through and see animals up close and personal. And I do mean up close - I didn't even need the zoom on my camera for these shots. The highlight was in the bear section, where this particular bear paced back and forth in front of the exit gate, holding up a line of traffic, oblivious to the posted sign that said "please drive slowly - bears will move." This bear had our number. His devil-may-care attitude impressed me.

And after all this it was, alas, time to head home. There were a few things we didn't get to (believe it or not) so maybe one day we'll go back again. But as we generally do on each trip we take, we were busy planning all of our future vacations so it may have to wait a bit. That's ok though - I think I've had my fill of redneck/middle America/down home/good ol' boy fun for now.

Worth Remembering

2009-08-27T15:23:00.003-06:00

On the way home from school today, we were driving down a hill when K1 announces "going down this hill makes my nuts nervous."

Ummm... pardon me? Then he proceeds to tell me how swinging on the swings at the playground, and going down hill, and riding 'up and down' rides all have the same effect. I asked him where he heard that expression, and he said its just how he describes it.

I was biting the inside of my cheek, trying to consider how I might turn this into a teaching moment about appropriate language, when we drove down another hill. This time K2, in her sweet little princess voice said, "did that hill make your nuts nervous?"

The laughter shot out of my nose. Ah screw it, I'll have to teach appropriate language some other time.

Not Ready

2009-08-24T09:52:00.004-06:00

It's been nearly five years in the making, but today marks the day that both my kids step into full time school schedules. From now on, the bulk of their days will be spent with someone other than me. It's one of many times you have to let go. It's only the beginning of a long line of goodbyes. Luckily, we get to take them one step at a time.

I am looking around the house at all of the uninterrupted cleaning, organizing and fixing I could do. I'm looking at my computer and thinking about all of the focused writing I can take care of, and all the work calls I can make that won't involve cardiac arrest while I try and make sure there are no kid background noises. I am thinking of all of the unfinished projects and half-cooked ideas in my brain that I'm generally too distracted to tackle.

But for today, for this moment, I just want to be sad.

Bye, bye love (of summer)

2009-08-17T21:14:00.015-06:00

This week marks big changes ahead. The shift from summer to school is a painful one, no matter how much you think you're ready or how tired you are of the summer chaos (and summer attitudes). This year's transition is particularly big for us - both kids will be in school full time (FULL TIME!). I'm not sure what I will do with myself. (Oh yeah, I'll work.)

So as we prepare for full days away from home, recesses, PEs, lunches, daily homework, fall sports and activities, here's one last look at our fantabulous summer.

B and I took a trip for our 8th anniversary out to Glenwood Springs - a little less than 3 hours away - and enjoyed amazing nature, fabulous food (thanks Aspen!) and some much needed alone time. I always say that anyone who doesn't believe there is a God needs to take the drive through the mountains along I-70. It is beyond breathtaking - it is ethereal.

Here we are before our 3-hour bike ride through the canyon, coupled with a two hour hike to Hanging Lake (a not to be missed excursion if you are ever in the area which, incidentally, burned upwards of 2800 calories!):

This is at the top of the Hanging Lake. Pictures really don't do it justice:

Here are some shots of the canyon. If you're feeling stress, I suggest opening these up large on your computer, putting your feet up and listening to a favorite tune. You'll transport in no time:

Of course no summer would be complete without the Renaissance Festival, and making fun of those around us (after all, the act of mocking is what bonded B and I together in the first place). Here are the kids enjoying the elephant:

And K2 modeling the requisite hair-braiding activity:

We spent a lot of time at the pool and had awesome good times at the lake this summer (thanks Busches!). K1 even tried wakeboarding and he LOVED it. Here's my own drop dead diva on her way to the water:

Here we are waiting for the fireworks - apparently the best in the Rocky Mountain region - with the Losee's in Steamboat. Rockin' time (though let's face it, it didn't compare to our own personal "popper" show. lol.):

Every summer should involve horses (and cows) ... particularly when you live out West:

And no summer could ever be considered truly awesome without at least one (no, more like 20) trips on the alpine slide! We enjoyed the ones in Golden and Steamboat, but hands-down the best one is found in Glenwood where it boasts roller coaster rails and has you sailing down the mountain at speeds of nearly 60 mph. K-squared thought it could go faster - a metaphor for everything they do.

So, so long summer and welcome back school. At least we can say we didn't waste a minute of it.

Mortal Enemies

2009-08-13T15:18:00.002-06:00

For years you have dominated my summer evenings... eating and drinking your fill of my delicate skin and (apparently) tasty blood. You have yet to be dissuaded by bug spray or citronella candles or the occasional slap, choosing instead to mock my efforts at blocking you and finding more daring places to bite me.

You and your friends have attacked me with a vengeance - leaving double digit bites all over my body any time I dare step outside near twilight.

Well no more. This tasty feast is declaring a jihad on you and your ilk. Take cover - your days of eat, drink and be merry are coming to a decisive end. Be afraid, be very afraid.

The Calming Presence

2009-08-09T21:22:00.003-06:00

It seems sometimes like over the years I've used up all the great, descriptive words that apply to my mom. When trying to convey to her how much she means to me or why I love her everything seems trite and predictable. I used to write beautiful, effervescent (albeit effusive) prose in birthday cards that would make me the butt of jokes within my family, but as an adult I've learned to be more succinct (though unfortunately I haven't been able to get past the trite).

So I think the best (and only) way to honor this woman who has played the most vital role in my life is to share those things she has taught me, the ways she has left indelible marks on my soul.

First and foremost, my mom has taught me how to be open-minded and kind. I am still amazed that she grew up in a home with strict Southern values (and strict Southern prejudices) and came out with a completely different view of the world. My mom is the kind of person you can be yourself around - you can tell her anything, you can ask her anything - and she accepts you with a warmth and grace that put you instantly at ease. Over the years many of my friends called her mom too, simply because of the way she made them feel. As a daughter who was incredibly inquisitive and was sometimes inclined to 'dip my toe in the water' of the world, my mom's fair-minded outlook was a safe haven and the reason she was always my closest confidante. She truly is the kind of person you can tell anything to. Every mother should aspire to such capability with their children.

In addition, my mom is constantly working to improve herself. Never content with the status quo, she spent the last year working full time and going through an exclusive, intense year-long program to obtain her administrator's license. At each quarter's end she would call me from school and have me log in to her account to check that her grades were posted. And every time she would hold her breath in nervous anticipation while I would laugh silently to myself. I knew what would be there - straight A's - and she never once disappointed. She worked her way through her bachelor's degree (graduating magna cum laude) and was accepted into an exclusive masters program that she completed while teaching full time - all while raising three girls. She never does anything halfway. She's smart, but she's not pretentious. She has changed lives with her teaching - and not just the lives of children. People stop me all the time to rave about my mom's lessons at church. She has a way of connecting with everyone.

Finally, my mom is a study in grace. In all our years, I have never once heard her utter a swear word. Always the mouth in my family, I could easily get a laugh out of my mom with my somewhat irreverent take on a situation, but if my mom ever wanted to repeat what I said she would either whisper the unsavory word choice, spell part of it until we got the drift, or with a nod and wink look in my direction and we all would know what she meant. She is always put together. This has been a source of ribbing in our family, as my mom never has a hair out of place or smudged make up. We tease her when she checks her reflection because no hair would ever dare stray. She wouldn't have it. She's not flashy or ostentatious, she simply believes in taking care of herself and looking her best. She conducts herself always with poise and style and the utmost decorum. She raises the bar wherever she is, and others rise to meet the standards she set. And she does it all without ever making anyone feel less than. In fact, I think she embodies the definition of grace better than anything else I can think of.

I am not done learning lessons from my mom, and I think its safe to say that at different times in my life certain lessons will stand out more than others. I've seen enough of the world to know that not everyone gets a mom who was born to nurture, teach and lead, and I don't take this gift for granted. My family is blessed beyond measure, and I am a better person when I strive to emulate my sweet mom's example. Happy birthday, and I love you (nothing too trite in that, right?).

Ode to a Friend

2009-08-05T15:26:00.005-06:00

Someone I didn't know passed away this week (someone who was much too young to leave this world) and I have found my thoughts turned to his family, friends and all of those whose lives he touched and how they must be coping, and how glad they are that they had some time - even short - to be touched by him. And what I realized is that I am touched by many people all the time. And I would be loathe to find out that something happened and I didn't get the chance to tell them what I thought. So my goal is to take a moment to recognize those people who matter to me, and thank them for their presence in my life. Be patient, this may take a while - but eventually I'll get to everyone. I'm doing this so that my kids can learn to appreciate the people around them.

So the first honors go to my very dear friend J.M.L!! It was her birthday (yesterday) and this is my happy belated present. J - you are the yin to my yang and someone with whom I can almost always relate to on a seemingly endless supply of topics. You share my love of adventure, good fun, great conversation and ... oh, everything else. I love that we can share the good, bad and ugly with each other and I always find an endless amount of understanding and support. I admire your strength, beauty (both inside and out!), intelligence and wit. You are a kindred spirit. I hope you had/have a wonderful birthday and I wish I could be there to celebrate in person. Please move back soon. Actually, no please about it.

Sending lots of love your way -
N

If the Shoe Fits...

2009-07-29T14:16:00.003-06:00

K2's feet have grown so we spent a little bit of time going through her shoes to determine what won't fit for the fall. We got rid of 24 pairs of shoes, and kept 33. B's comment was "what 4 year old needs 57 pairs of shoes?" Truth is, I haven't even done my BTS shopping.

Yes, I've got a sickness. A well-documented sickness.

The Power of Six

2009-06-21T14:33:00.009-06:00

In six years you can learn a lot. You can learn to:

* Walk, talk and feed yourself
* Tie your shoes
* Ride a bike
* Read everything in sight
* Push my buttons
* Tell a joke
* Tell a lie
* Navigate TiVo
* Pour your own bowl of cereal
* Make friends
* Make good choices
* Brush your teeth
* Write a thank you note
* Say a prayer
* Wrestle - and every once in a great while - best your dad

And some things you just were born knowing how to do:

* Charm and disarm
* Put together any kind of puzzle
* Scratch your eczema with unrelenting force
* Sleep, on command
* Argue
* Throw a ball with inexplicable strength
* Get over heartaches with split-second timing
* Melt my resolve

BTW - I've picked up a few things over these past six years as well:

* How to care for a newborn
* How to toddler-proof a house
* How to get most stains out of clothes
* How to laugh at "boy" humor
* How to live in the moment
* How to swallow fear
* How to love with purity and sincerity and with absolute, unconditional force

My Giving Tree

2009-06-15T19:15:00.005-06:00

I referenced this tree in an earlier post (with regards to the hope it will NOT have to be dug up when our basement is redone) and I have since decided it needs its own post. We have two trees in our front yard (one on each side of our driveway) and they both merit attention. The above picture was taken in a rainstorm - one of my most favorite weather occurrences but that's for another blog post some other time.

It's not that anyone would call me a tree hugger. I love nature as much as the next guy, but you won't see me walking around in socks and birkenstocks, braiding a hemp necklace and asking people how long they shower. In fact, I'm not sure I ever stopped to admire a random tree before (except for those really cool ones that are in the middle of a field all by their lonesome and it sort of looks like you've stepped into Shawshank Redemption, or maybe someone else's special place and that if that tree could talk it would have the most fascinating stories to tell).

But when you move into a neighborhood that is less than five years old, you start to notice the differences between your own streets and the luscious, overgrown streets downtown, where homes have sat for nearly a century. I didn't think our neighborhood would ever look like that - and it probably won't - at least not for another 100 years. But we're now slowly edging to the 10 year old neighborhood mark and some trees are starting to look more like actual trees and less like cast offs from a Charlie Brown Christmas special.

So not to brag (who am I kidding, that is EXACTLY what I am doing) our two trees are hands down the best on the block. I'm not sure I can take credit for this. It's not like I go out and do a magic tree-growing dance every full moon. I really don't do anything but admire them. Maybe they've felt the love. But given the fact that we (along with the neighbors on either side) are sitting on the shiftiest soil in the development, I feel it only fair that we come away with some killer trees.

And so I would like to pay homage to the beautiful tree that could. It started out a sad little stick and has grown into a shade giver and ... almost but not quite... a climbing tree. Give it a few more years. Its blossoms are beautiful in the spring, its leaves are luscious and full in the summer, it turns a beautiful golden amber in the fall and in the winter it holds multiple strings of lights to keep our home festive.

Sure its just a tree, but it makes me happy. And these days you've got to find the happy wherever you can.

Lord, Beer Me Strength

2009-06-08T10:12:00.004-06:00

I can't believe I didn't blog one time during the month of May. It was a busy month - lots to talk about. Let's start with the unfortunate - B was laid off. So he joins the ranks of countless others who have lost their job in this wretched economy and I'm sure many more will join before its over (please oh please let this be the lone hiccup for us). Beyond the obvious stress and strain of income loss and identity loss that comes with a lay off, it was B's absolute dream job in the entire world and he is so very sad to see it end. They were as kind as could be under the circumstances, and assured him if/when things pick up he will be their first call. However we all know that no pick up will be taking place any time soon. And so he is looking elsewhere. Slim pickin's out there my friends. Very slim.

So I've got a houseful of people to manage as its also summer break which means I've got to reinvent the way I work. It's been slightly frustrating, but I am learning patience and creativity ;).

K1 had a lovely kindergarten graduation - they recited a poem and sang a song about all they'd learned this year to the tune of "The Addams Family" (substitute the words 'the kindergarten class' and you've got the gyst) and my personal favorite - a rendition of "Start Spreadin' the News" that went a little something like this:
"Start spreading the news...
We're leaving today...
So we can be a part of it!
First grade, First grade..."

There were several verses and the song ended with a kick line flourish that was the pinnacle of the ceremony IMHO. K1 is squared away next year with the best first grade teacher in the school (aka highest scores) which I requested and was relieved to get.

K2 graduated from Pre-K with her own little ceremony which included a fun photo slide show (but the interesting thing to note here is that she showed up nearly as many times in K1's slide show of his class. K2 likes to be noticed.) She starts kindergarten in the fall at a new, private school until they will take her at our neighborhood public school for first grade. So one more year of paying exorbitant tuition! Ugh. Will be glad when that is over.

And now that summer is upon us I am trying to find the time to engage in my one summer rule - "one fun thing every day" - so far so good (oh, I do have one other rule which is that they have to read on their own for 30 minutes a day and with me for 30 minutes a day). Other than that - we're just waiting for the real warm weather to show up so we can spend more quality time sunning poolside.

And one final note... the back/hip pain is back in full force. DUH DUH DUHHHHH. I am VERY discouraged by this. That's about all I can say about it right now. Too discouraged. *sigh*

Frozen

2009-04-23T15:46:00.004-06:00

The weather has warmed up which has brought around the ... wait for it ... ICE CREAM TRUCK! A couple of days ago the kids heard the tell-tale calypso music and spotted the old beaten down, ramshackle of a truck going up and down the streets in our neighborhood.

They were so excited, but I told them no ice cream today so instead they ran outside and watched it come and go - just hearing the music and seeing the truck brought endless joy. They were so sweet about it, they didn't even complain that I wouldn't let them have any.

The next day - yesterday - dinner was about 10 minutes from being on the table and the kids came running downstairs to announce that the ice cream truck was back. This time I couldn't bear to say no. I told them we could get some ice cream but that they'd have to wait until after dinner to eat it. The jubilee was immeasurable. As I walked behind them on our way to the truck I couldn't help but reminisce about the excitement I used to feel at the sight of the ice cream truck.

Sure, its just ice cream that can be bought at any grocery store, but it seems to taste better when you buy it outside over the sounds of circus tunes. It signifies that kid-created time of year - summer - and somehow brings with it all the possibilities for fun, adventure and possibility that summertime promises. It's as innocent and pure as a lemonade stand or a barefoot bicycle ride or blowing bubbles. It's a rite of passage.

So after a fab dinner of green chile chicken enchiladas (a specialty of mine thankyouverymuch) the kids enjoyed their ice cream purchases with all the gusto one would expect. Of course, according to K-squared, they were gone too soon. But as B and I sat at the table listening to the oohs and aahs over their individual choices, and the gentle spring breeze came in from the open windows, I realized that this was one of those moments - like the kids with the ice cream - that I just wanted to freeze in time.

Thank heaven for the immortalization of a blog.

If K1's Approach to Life Were Summed Up in a Song...

2009-04-15T21:17:00.001-06:00

The Greatest

Little Boy, in a baseball hat
Stands in the field with his ball and bat
Says I am the greatest player of them all
Puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ball

And the ball goes up and the ball comes down
Swings his bat all the way around
The world's so still you can hear the sound
The baseball falls to the ground

Now the little boy doesn't say a word
Picks up his ball, he is undeterred
Says I am the greatest there has ever been
And he grits his teeth and he tries it again

And the ball goes up and the ball comes down
Swings his bat all the way around
The world's so still you can hear the sound
The baseball falls to the ground

He makes no excuses, He shows no fears
He just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers

Little boy, he adjusts his hat
Picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says I am the greatest the game is on the line
And he gives his all one last time

And the ball goes up like the moon so bright
Swings his bat with all his might
And the world's so still as still can be
And the baseball falls, and that's strike three

Now it's supper time and his mama calls
Little boy starts home with his bat and ball
Says I am the greatest that is a fact
But even I didn't know I could pitch like that

The Little (Big) Things

2009-04-08T10:45:00.002-06:00

My last couple of blog posts have been a bit discouraging, which is not my normal state of mind. So I'm just writing to say that I'm happy. Life is good. I'm focusing on the positive again, I'm living with my left brain in charge instead of my right. Things are as they should be.

The sun is shining.
Spring is here, and summer is not far behind.
My kids make me laugh, all the time.
I enjoyed a wonderful general conference, and have been focused on Christ all week.
Easter is this Sunday.
I'm back at the gym, full force, after a week of laying low.
The basement is still (KNOCKONWOOD) dry.
B and I still have jobs.
We're healthy.
We owe just 10% (TEN PERCENT!!) of what we owed in taxes last year.
We finally had snow this year, which meant we got to take the kids sledding.
B has a four day weekend.
I have snickers eggs tucked away in the treat cabinet.

Life IS good.

Discombobulated

2009-04-02T21:46:00.003-06:00

In life there are distinctive opportunities - a single choice that will lead us down Path A or Path B. It isn't that one choice is better than the other, it is simply a choice. We can't foresee the path in one direction any easier than the next, and each road comes with its own unique trials and blessings, opportunities and regrets.

I've played the game over the years of asking myself what my distinctive choices were, where they led me, and where I might be had I made a different choice. I've only had a few of those experiences, but they've been monumental and I *think* (no wait, I know) I made the right choice each time. God has been good. And yet here I find myself at another distinctive crossroad. A choice that can be made that will lead to very different paths, not an easy choice, but one I am desperate to do the right way.

At the beginning of March I found out I was pregnant. PREGNANT. With an IUD in place, I might add. I've always said that God's sense of humor is ironic, and this was the height of irony (especially when you couple it with the fact that K2 was conceived on birth control as well). The day I found out I went to the doctor and they removed the IUD, and then it was just a waiting game. Though the doctor couldn't give me hard statistics, she said I had a 50-60% chance of miscarrying. So the month of March was spent waiting and wondering. Trying to wrap my head around actually being pregnant, and what the next 9 months (and 18 years!) was going to be like. I had an appointment scheduled on March 31st for an ultrasound, and to see the baby.

I have to say, B was amazing during all of this. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was a sobbing, disheartened mess. B's response was to give me a hug, tell me everything was going to be ok, and that this was obviously God's will. He allowed me my fears, without letting them turn into his. He seemed to immediately accept this new, life-altering circumstance with the same attitude he brings to everything else - that it will all turn out ok in the end. B and I have an amazing talent for one of us to be calm when the other is a neurotic mess. This was my turn for the neuroses, and he was my rock.

So the month dragged on and the Saturday evening before my Tuesday appointment, I started to bleed. It took me by surprise and my immediate reaction was... sobbing. This was the hard core kind. The kind where I couldn't catch my breath, and I went into silent mode. I don't sob very often. I don't even like to cry. I couldn't figure out why it hit me so hard, but I think it was a variety of emotions. Disappointment, regret, fear, more change and, most of all, guilt. I had struggled so long trying to decide if *I* could get through this pregnancy and how it would affect *me* to have another baby, and suddenly my guilt slammed me in the gut.

I know there are people who struggle their whole lives to have children - they dream of it, they crave it, they sacrifice everything to do it. I know there are those who struggle seemingly needlessly to attain this basic human desire. And here I was, spitting at fate and feeling sorry for myself and refusing to accept the gift that was given. And then it was taken away.

By Monday morning my doctor confirmed it was indeed a miscarriage, and despite some major pain on Tuesday and major exhaustion on Wednesday, I'm getting back to normal. That means emotionally too. I let myself entertain, for a split second, that my sour attitude resulted in this precious spirit being given to someone more deserving, but that doesn't really mesh with my view of my Heavenly Father. So instead, I think its an opportunity. A chance to rethink our future. A chance for B and I to be led by the Spirit.

I always said that if we were meant to have more children, God would have to hit me over the head with it. And so He has. It's time for B and I to do some serious considering. It's time for us to stare out at this crossroads, and to choose a path. I hope it is the right one. I *think* (no wait, I know) it will be.

The Irish Curse

2009-03-17T12:42:00.003-06:00

Back in mid-January I made an innocent trip downstairs to the basement only to find suspiciously damp pieces of furniture at the base of the stairs and, upon further inspection, sopping wet carpet, standing water and some level of debris near the floor drain that sits in between our furnace and water heater.

While not able to pinpoint the source of the water, B and I got to work. We removed all of the wet carpet, toys, furniture and dragged the (insanely heavy) carpet out of the house. B wet-vacked the room and got the bulk of the water up, then with borrowed fans we dried out the floor over night. As frustrating as the work was, B made the comment that at least it wasn't sewer water.

The next day, we called a plumber first thing and when he came out, he discovered that we had a blocked sewage line. I was hesitant to tell B (those of you who know him well understand what an INTENSE germaphobe he is) but he called to find out the damage and so the entire rest of the day he was stuck at work with the realization it was sewer water we were working with and he was just itching to get home and scrub everything down.

Our home is only 7 years old - not old enough to deal with a blocked sewage line - but nonetheless, $400 later the plumber unclogged the line (a pleasant task I'm sure) and was on his way. B came home and scrubbed down the plywood subfloor with bleach water and disposed of the wetvac because he could no longer bear to use it. We had shoved all of the items in the basement to one side (as the flooding only affected one half of the basement) and the plan was to use an anti-microbial paint on the floor before replacing the carpet.

We were in the midst of finding time for that project when, three weeks later, another innocent trip to the basement revealed more flooding. Not quite to the level it had been before, but still - flooding. B went through the roof. He was ready to sell the house, or more preferably, light a match to it. I was a bit more pragmatic (but then again, I didn't have to vacuum up the now-known sewage). The next morning I called the plumber again, and this time he brought reinforcements.

After two guys at our house for three hours, a camera unrolled through all of the sewage pipes in our home, a call to the company's owner who also came out, and some additional phone consultations with other "experts" in the field, they finally laid out the full extent of the problem.

For those of you that don't live in Colorado (at least the part where we do), you may not be aware of the very unstable soil we have here - its more of a clay - and it shifts terribly. When you purchase a home, you get an entire booklet on the soil. After this plumbing problem came to light we have since learned that just one house over from ours the soil samples came back so bad they could not build the houses they had planned and therefore we have a much larger park than we otherwise would have.

So apparently this fantastic soil we are sitting on has shifted, and in so doing the foundation of our home shifted and has crushed/bent/mangled a part of our sewage line. This is why the back up keeps happening, and will continue to be a problem until we get it fixed.

So what does it take to fix it you ask? Well it starts with bringing a backhoe into our front yard, where they will dig out our front bushes and lawn and tunnel in under our porch toward our basement. At that point, they will begin to hand dig until they reach our basement wall, where they will then cut a hole into the outer wall and find the plumbing. They will replace the crappy plastic PVC pipe with a cast iron one, and further insulate it with some kind of pebble-material to keep it from collapsing again. We'll have to replace all of the landscaping in the front yard, but hopefully they won't take out our beloved tree that we have worked so hard to bring to life and is (if I may say so myself) the best looking tree on the street.

The next logical question is, what will it cost? The bargain price of $7000, not including the replacement landscaping we'll have to handle ourselves. The good news (good is relative here) is that it will only take one solid day of work. I've already checked with homeowners insurance and they won't cover it, and our warranty seems iff-y at best. We are going to have to gear ourselves up for a fight.

So in the meantime, we are being extra cautious with everything we allow to go down any drain in our house. That means lots of extra flushing, tossing any kind of food rather than letting it go down the disposal, etc. B and I cautiously check the basement at least once a day, holding our breath, hoping for the best. Eventually its going to happen again. The question is, can we afford to get it fixed - or actually win the war on the warranty front - before that happens? Stay tuned...

And so beyond this extremely frustrating issue we are dealing with something else that is far more serious and life-altering, but still too up-in-the-air to blog about. Suffice it to say, I am looking back with much regret on New Years Day when we failed to eat our black-eyed peas. B may make fun of my Irish superstitions, but it seems like the leprechauns are exacting their revenge...

A Story Worth Telling

2009-02-28T22:04:00.003-07:00

I came across this picture on my computer and remembered that I had planned to blog about this, but overlooked it.

In the picture you'll notice that K2 looks a little worse for wear. It's because she had been crying - at the point the picture was taken she'd probably been crying hard for well over an hour.

If you're a faithful reader of my blog you may recall that K2 is not much of a whiner or tantrum maker. But what she lacks in quantity, she more than makes up for in quality. When a tantrum does come her way, I'm convinced my life would be better spent inside four padded walls.

This particular day I had taken the kids to the mall. It's always ill-advised to take both kids to the mall together - particularly since the stroller years are well behind us. I usually structure my trip around promises of a cookie and playing at Pottery Barn Kids, the jumping castle, the dinosaurs, or the outdoor sandbox. On this day I had just a couple of returns to make and I told the kids if they promised to be good while I did my returns, I would get them a cookie and we'd go play at PB Kids.

Well, things originally went according to plan so after the cookie we headed to PB Kids. We weren't in the store 2 minutes when K2 had grabbed her usual kid-size shopping cart and was filling it with all kinds of must-haves and what-nots. One of those was a kid-size phone that she was holding by the receiver and half dragging/half banging across the hard wood floor. I went to take it from her and she protested - mightily. At first I tried to explain that I was just taking it to put the receiver back in its cradle and then she could have it back, but I realized that her screaming/fighting reaction toward me did not warrant any explanation on my part. I quickly told her that if she didn't stop that instant we would leave the store. She didn't stop, and so we left.

Let me take a quick moment here to say that K1 was phenomenal during this whole thing... a typical response for the child not behaving badly. So even though he had to cut his promised play time short, he dutifully followed me out of the store. Unfortunately, I was not done with my errands - I still had to make a return at Banana Republic.

Another mother would have given up at this point, but I was determined not to let her get the best of me. K2 wasn't just a little upset about leaving the store, she was in full distraught-diva mode. Her wailing could be heard all over the mall, during our short stint at BR (because remember, I am now fully ensconsed in I-will-not-let-my-4-year-old-get-the-better-of-me mode) and through every other walkway and store we had to pass to get to our car. The mall is a good 20-25 minutes from our house, and my persistent child didn't let up once with her incredibly loud screams of indignation. Finally, as we're just about a mile away from home, a cop pulls me over. I'm sure that I'm speeding because that's usually the case, but because I was so overwraught with the incessant noise I couldn't say how fast it was.

The process of slowing down for the cop made K2 quiet down, as I pulled to a stop and watched the cop get out of the car I told K2 that now was certainly not the time to stop crying, and to keep it up - full throttle. Thankfully, she obliged. As soon as the cop came up to the window he saw K2, and pretty much assessed the situation then and there. I know I said something akin to an apology, but explained that I just wanted to get home. He looked back at K2's face and acknowledged that there was no way I could have made her just start crying - those telltale blotches gave away how long she'd been at it.

As he took my license and registration and went back to his vehicle to check up on my (thankfully!) clean driving record, K1 started to cry. I asked him what was wrong and he said "I don't want you to get arrested and go to jail!" I laughed, and said that wasn't going to happen. He kept crying and said, "I don't want my sister to go to jail!" That really cracked me up, because at that moment I thought maybe jail was the only thing that would sober her up.

Anyhow to wrap this long story, the cop came back and addressed his remarks directly to K2, telling her that for the rest of her life she needed to hold this over my head and remind me how she got me out of a ticket. As soon as we got home I pulled K2 out of the car and she just latched on to me and wouldn't let go. And that's really what she needs when she's reached that cataclysmic tantrum mode. She just needs to be held, and helped to calm down.

So I took this picture to immortalize the moment, and remember how a police officer and a potential speeding ticket helped to diffuse a frustrating situation for both me and K2. And though she may hold this over my head one day, I feel safe in saying I'll have a few things to remind her of as well :).

A Chance to Vent...

2009-01-26T20:50:00.002-07:00

This past week was the historical, much-anticipated and much-celebrated inauguration of the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama. And while I appreciate the historical significance of what it means to elect the first African-American president, and even empathize with what this means for the black community in this country, I have to admit at feeling a bit... well... fed-up with all of the things I am hearing and seeing.

Every time President Obama's name has come up since he won the election - from news reporters to celebrities, to commentators and talk show hosts, its with a reverence, awe and an absolute, unwavering confidence that everything is going to be better.

And that's what I'm fed up about. This undeserved and untested optimism is ignorant at best and dangerous at worst. While I have every hope in the world that President Obama will usher in some needed change and perhaps even infuse some confidence - and dare I say it, patriotism - into this great land of ours, I recognize that the blunt reality is that this man has not yet been tested and tried. His career began as a state legislator before he ran for the US Senate where he only served three years - and a significant portion of that was spent campaigning. He doesn't have a history of foreign affairs, or overseeing a complex and difficult economy or bringing two very disparate parties together. Does that mean he can't do it? Of course not. And my prayer is that he can. But what really disgruntles me is this blind faith and over-the-top praise this man has received for being ... well... a good public speaker.

And on the flip side of the coin, I am sick and tired of all of the nastiness heaped on President Bush. Yes, I understand he was an unpopular president. Yes, I understand that many opposed his views on the Iraq war, his handling of terrorist suspects, his environmental policies, and even his economic policies. But what drives me nuts is this black and white stand that people take where President Bush represents everything wrong, ignorant, evil and arrogant and therefore President Obama must be the opposite and will do everything right, smart, good and with humility. You know what I think about the presidency of the United States? I think its probably the hardest job in the world. I think that no matter what you do, you won't please all of the people any of the time and you probably won't even please most people some of the time. Was Bush dogmatic in his approach? Absolutely. And I think there was good and bad to that. I often appreciated it more than his predecessor's tendency for shifting with the wind every time a new poll came out. President Bush didn't make all the right decisions, and I am sure he looks back with regret and remorse at some things. But I would bet that had any other American been in his shoes, they might have made different choices that would have been difficult or cataclysmic in their own way. Thus the nature of this job, and thus the nature of having to do it through the largest terrorist attack on US soil, a faltering economy (that he inherited, let's not forget), drastic natural disasters and countless other crises.

And so as President Obama begins his tenure as President during a most difficult time (a job I sure would not have wanted) I wish him all the best. I wish for him strength, stamina, courage and commitment. I wish that he will remain humble and listen to the people (when the people aren't being ridiculous) and tune out the people (when they're just too ignorant for their own good). I wish that he will find a way to quickly and easily drag us out of this economic climate, solve seemingly unsolvable foreign relations and restore faith to the American people that this really is the greatest place to live on the earth. But even though I wish him all those things, I also recognize that his job is not so black and white - decisions will not come easily and they won't always be the right ones. Hindsight is 20/20. I doubt I will always agree with him (I don't now), I doubt he will uphold some of the things I consider most important in politics as we have different views, but one thing I can promise - when he finishes his presidency in four years or eight - I will not condone the new president speaking critically of him while he is just steps away, and I will never, ever boo him. That is how I show respect for this country that I love, and for the office that he holds.

And so this was Christmas...

2009-01-02T16:13:00.015-07:00

... and here's what we did:

Got the Christmas tree...

Watched the annual Parade of Lights with the requisite Starbucks...

Opened stockings...

Enjoyed a Christmas Eve celebration with extended family...

Opened presents Christmas morning...

Oh yeah, and more presents at grandma and grandpa's house...

And played with presents...

And some of the things not pictured, but still fun!

* Took a ride on the "Christmas Train" in Tulsa, OK - the scariest, most in-your-face story of Jesus I've heard tell since my childhood. Brought into harsh focus the difference between employing the spirit when discussing the gospel and our Savior, versus using it for a money-making scheme. The kids enjoyed the carnival-like atmosphere however.

* Attempted zoo lights (twice!) with the Busch family and the Morris family, but apparently everyone else had the same idea on the same two nights we attempted.

* Took the kids up to Breckenridge to have a very enjoyable dinner with my cousin and her hubby - who spent the holidays skiing.

* Introduced the kids to some new holiday movies, including Home Alone which has become an instant favorite and watched repeatedly (much to my chagrin)

And the things we didn't get around to, unfortunately (hey, I'm only human and there are still only 24 hours in a day - despite my incessant attempts to change that):

* Host our annual holiday party. Ack! I hate that. Next year folks, next year. Can I blame it on the fact that there were fewer days this year between Thanksgiving and Christmas? I'd like to.

* See Santa. Another big Ack! I usually do this on the early side, but since I had my Christmas shopping done so early this year (pat on the back inserted here), there weren't many reasons to go to the mall. And their Christmas pics were taken at the end of October after all - so no opportunity there. We did see the Christmas cow at Chick-fil-a, does that count?

* Do our annual purge of the basement toys to make room for the new ones. I guess the good news is, that will always be available to do. The bad news is, our crazy routine cycle is beginning all over again. *Sigh*

From her lips to God's ears...

2008-12-29T21:40:00.001-07:00

K2's prayer tonight:

"Heerd Heavenly Father:

Thank you for this day.

Thank you that we get to go the gym tomorrow and see Mya and Peyton.

Thank you that my mommy is the BEST mommy, and bless mommy to put more money in my piggy bank.

Bless my brother that he will have a good attitude and be nice and listen.

Bless the gospel, and bless Jesus that He is the BEST Jesus.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

(Side note: I am inclined to believe that this child's prayers are pretty powerful. After all, I asked her this morning to say a prayer before we took our car into the shop that it wouldn't cost a lot of money. And - wonder of wonders - it was actually free! I'm asking K2 to say the prayers from now on...)

Thank You!

2008-12-17T08:29:00.004-07:00

23 Reasons Birthday No. 32 Was a Happy One:

1) Waking up to a card from B. If you knew how amazing cards from B were, you'd know why I was so happy :).

2) Coming downstairs to a loud "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" from K-squared, and having them tell me "Happy Birthday" a million times more throughout the day.

3) Wishes from Facebook friends.

4) Birthday calls.

5) A card, call and promise of shoes in the mail from my cousin.

6) Lunch with my dad.

7) Treating myself to two magazines at the grocery store. I love a good magazine.

8) Really great cheese samples at said grocery store.

9) Getting to tell the kids (over and over) "it's my birthday! you have to be nice!" and actually seeing positive results

10) Lindt dark chocolate peppermint truffles

11) The weather was a balmy 35 degrees today which, after the cold snap we've had, felt downright tropical

12) Chocolate cake and decadent fudge sauce from my lifelong B/F.

13) Birthday wishes, suggestions to relax and credits to my awesomeness from the coolest college friends to ever grace the planet.

14) Impromptu gifts delivered periodically from thoughtful friends

15) Celebration, well wishes and birthday cake from my dear young women and fellow leaders

16) Snuggling with the kids because I'm, as K1 put it, "the most comfortable place in the house"

17) A phone call from my most missed friend - even if cell service in 2008 is still somewhat unreliable.

18) Having quiet time with B to just talk

19) Lunch with a great group of women tomorrow

20) "Alone" time with my mom tomorrow night

21) Lunch and pedis with fab friends Monday

22) Looking forward to date night with B

23) Being reminded of how many wonderful people I have in my life

The Crying Game

2008-11-08T23:20:00.004-07:00

K1 has the tendency to be a bit of a crybaby, a trait I find infinitely annoying. I'm not going to lie, I'm not very nice about it. I have zero patience, which I guess stems from my fear that if I offer any kind of solace or refuge when he's whining and crying, then I will somehow sabotage my son and raise myself a whiny, crying mamma's boy.

I realize that Dr. Phil would probably have lots to say for my approach of "Stop it - this is embarrassing." "The kids at school are going to laugh at you." "Nobody likes a cry baby." "This is the dumbest thing in the world to cry about." And any other harsh, critical things I can think of to say in the moment to somehow snap him out of it or - better yet - to shame him into sucking in those tears for good. I know, I know - judge away.

But in my efforts to continually strive to be a better mom, I've been thinking about why it is he acts this way. Part of it is for attention. Part of it is because he's a sensitive natured kid. Part of it is because he has to have an annoying trait, right? Otherwise he wouldn't be a 5 year old boy.

But I think a big part of it is that he doesn't want to feel obsolete. Overlooked. Forgotten. And the truth is, I get that because I often feel the exact same way. Sure, I don't burst into tears over small hiccups in my day, but I can understand what it feels like to think the world might just have forgotten you were around. Maybe life is moving on without you. Maybe not enough people need you, or even regard you. They might be baseless thoughts, but it doesn't keep them from creeping in.

And so I think maybe I can take a breath and find some extra patience for my precious K1 and his intense need to be liked, loved and needed. I get that. I get him. And maybe - just maybe - a little extra snuggling won't tie those apron strings any tighter. Maybe he will grow up just fine after all.

A Good Day

2008-11-02T17:43:00.006-07:00

A little church, a little nap, a few rounds of board games with the kids, sharing some edamame while watching Madagascar. Sundays are awesome.

Happy Halloween btw, and in honor of the big candy-grab day of horror, here are the things that strike fear in our heart of hearts:

B:
* Losing
* Dancing
* Germs

N:
* The economy
* Craft night
* The stomach flu

K1:
* Bugs - creepy crawlies, flying things, etc. And they all seem to LOVE him.
* A row of girls screaming his name (though I try and tell him one day he'll miss this)
* The fake gorilla at the aquarium which, in fairness, does look pretty real.

K2:
Absolutely nothing.

Priceless Advice on the Golden Rule

2008-10-27T19:02:00.004-06:00

The purpose of this blog is ultimately for my children, either through sharing stories for them to better remember, recording milestones or dispensing advice. This particular post will be of the latter kind.

I just got back from a 4-day girls weekend with my college friends. There are 14 of us total, and 10 were able to make this trip. We try to have them once a year (this is our second) so that those who can't make it one year don't have to wait too long for the next. Last time was Palm Springs, this year was Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire. Of course it was fabulous, of course it was fun, of course we ate a lot and talked even more (and let me pause here to give mad props to the stellar house we stayed in, which thanks to the count of one friend, apparently had 12 bedrooms and 10 baths).

But beyond that, these women aren't just friends that I enjoy hanging out with once a year. These women are a lifeline. I have a wonderful husband and two mostly perfect children, I have amazing parents, sisters and extended family, I have truly beautiful friendships that I have developed as a married adult that mean a great deal to me. All of these are lifelines. This particular lifeline however, of these 14 women, has shifted its purpose in my life, always somehow being exactly what I need in that particular phase or for that particular problem.

It is immensely comforting to be not just accepted for who you are, but truly loved - and even admired - by those you love and admire as well. It is rejuvenating to laugh until your sides ache and to share the same stories that everyone knows and new ones that will become part of the lexicon that ties you together. It is the utmost relaxation to let your guard down in every conceivable way and to set aside the distractions of daily life and to just be. And it is deeply satisfying to know that every single one of us feels the exact same way.

And so I say to my children, that it is my hope that life affords you these kinds of friendships. I recommend you open yourself up to them - that you lay bare your vulnerabilities to the right people and that you accept them for theirs. I suggest you make the effort - however hard it might be at times - to nurture and grow potential friendships, to stay in touch and to allow each other to change and adapt. I believe you should remember the good things, laugh over the silly, let go of the bad and overlook the unintentional. Reminisce about the good old days, but don't pigeon hole people into roles they may no longer fit into. Encourage longevity. Don't let go of those who know you in ways that no one else possibly can. In other words, be the kind of friend that you will so often need throughout your lives.

And remember that when mommy goes on these trips each year, its not because I need a "break" from you (though sometimes mommy does), and its not because I'm just wanting a fun vacation. It's because this is much-needed therapy and priceless life advice for the low cost of a plane ticket. It makes me a better mom, a better wife, a better friend and a better person. So thank you A, B, H, J, Ma, Me, N, Sa, Su. And to H, K, T, and S - we BETTER see you next year! Love to you all.

Birthday Reflections

2008-09-29T09:05:00.009-06:00

Four years and nine months ago, I was just finding out I was pregnant with you. Truth is, I was scared to death and not too happy. I've debated about letting you know about this - I didn't want you to think I wasn't happy about having you. And it really had nothing do with you - it was just that K1 was only 6 months old and I was barely starting to recover from his incredibly difficult pregnancy and delivery. Our lives were somewhat unsettled - we weren't sure what the future held and where we would live or what we would do. K1 was at a stage that was difficult for me and the day before I found out I was pregnant I was lamenting to my mom that my kids had to be at least five years apart.

So as you can see, it was a bit of a shock. But right from the beginning, I felt a distinctive connection with you. I knew right away you were a girl, and from the start you just emanated a certain confidence and spunk. You weren't exactly an easy baby, particularly when compared to K1 who was pretty easy going. There were a few nights when the crying jags had me a bit overloaded. But - maybe because you were the second child and you didn't have much choice - you learned to soothe yourself and sleep through the night at an early age.

From the start you were desperate to communicate, which is probably why you spoke so early and why tantrums with you have always been minimal. You have no problem expressing yourself with words (though for the record when you do decide to throw a tantrum you go all out). Your sense of humor is astounding for your age, and your "good" laugh, the one when you are tickled beyond belief, is one of the best sounds on the planet.

I love to just watch you - whether you're playing, or concentrating on your coloring, or reading yourself a book (with perfect story recall), or talking my ear off, or just laying next to me with your cherubic cheeks and bright blue eyes - watching you brings me untold joy.

And so I look back to four years and nine months ago, when I was so unsure, scared and plain worn out. I remember how I thought that being pregnant would derail all of our plans. I remember how I worried that I was somehow cheating K1 out of his time alone with mom and dad. And I watch you now, nearly perfect even without my clouded mother-love eyes, and I realize how unnecessary all of my fears and worries were.

You have changed our family for the best. You have brought a ray of light that is so distinctive even strangers are drawn to you. You are your big brother's best friend. You are your father's Princess Stinkbutt. You are my Angel Baby. You are, without a doubt, the very best possible thing to have ever happened to the three of us.

And yes, your underwear is always up your bum.

A Closet Divestiture

2008-09-11T16:17:00.003-06:00

OK, I need some ideas for what to do with a massive amount of children's clothing. While it's true that I am a big fan of decluttering, purging, simplifying, etc. it's also true that none of those principles seem to apply when it comes to clothing. Both of my children always manage to have an excess every season, and their closets are filled wall to wall, usually with more in boxes on the top and bottom.

Please don't judge - we all have our weaknesses, right? The thing is, I'm 99.9% sure we're not having anymore, and even in the off chance that we do, who am I kidding? I will be buying more clothes. What I need to do is get rid of the ones I have. They are over-running the house.

Now the obvious answer might be a garage sale, or donations. And believe me, I am ALL for donating, but these clothes cost a lot of money! And - particularly with K2 - some have hardly even been worn. And the typical garage sale crowd is going to expect $.50 and $1 prices and I'm not sure I'm willing to part with some of these things for such low prices.

There's ebay of course, and while there can be good money there it is SO much work. Plus I can't sell all my clothes at once there because it really is seasonal. I'd much prefer to get this all done at one time. There's consignment, but that's such a nightmare and who knows when you'll even see a return.

So where does that leave me? I could have an open house where I invite people word of mouth and have them invite their friends and so on and so forth, then price clothes at what I'm willing to sell them for and hope for the best. I have boy clothes up to size 4T and girl clothes up to size 3T. Every season. Halloween costumes, coats, ski wear, bathing suits (maybe that's creepy - but I have baby ones and that's not so creepy). Would I have a good turnout? Would people be willing to pay a "reasonable" amount? (And by reasonable I DO understand these clothes are used, but I also understand that they've been worn only a very small amount and were quite costly to begin with).

Does anybody out there have a genius solution? Does anyone think its ridiculous that I'm even considering this? I need some input. All feedback welcome ;).

The Highlights

2008-08-26T04:46:00.017-06:00

I've had pictures stored on my camera for a while now, pictures that deserve to be posted. Each has a story, as all pictures do.

Like K-squareds' first days of school. K1 started kindergarten this year - a milestone. A few days leading up to it I started to get a little sad. Not super sad, just the kind of sad that reminds you that you can't hold on to time and that things do, unwittingly, slip through your fingers. But here he is on his first day - gloriously handsome and anxious to begin a new chapter (even if I did mist up just a bit when the teacher came to get them all). I also added a picture of his adorable girlfriend. They were together in preschool, again in pre-K, and while "girlfriend" might be a strong word for the kindergarten set, we think she is pretty fabulous and even K1 has to agree.

And then it was K2's turn - she started Pre-K yesterday and that didn't make me nearly so sad because for some reason Pre-K isn't as life-changing as preschool and won't be so life-changing as kindergarten. Perhaps that seems incoherent, or perhaps its just something only another mother will understand. But she was beautiful and confident as she headed out, and only slightly wavered in her excitement when she discovered she would be at (gasp!) the exact same school she was at last year. Apparently she was prepared for bigger and better things. Slow down there, K2. You may be ready but me, not so much.

And lest I forget, K1 celebrated his 5th birthday at the end of June with a "You Oughta Be in Pictures" theme, complete with red carpet, popcorn machine and oscar statuettes.

And finally, we spent the last days of summer enjoying family time, having adventures, playing at fun places, soaking in the sun and splashing in whatever water we could find. In other words, we lived.

Triumphant Defeat

2008-08-01T23:06:00.003-06:00

So a lot has happened since I posted an entry, particularly given the fact that my last entries have been on random topics.

It's been a hard summer it seems, for a number of reasons. Just one of those times I guess - things aren't horrible, just have been a bit stressful. I've had to work a lot, and travel a lot. Los Angeles a few times, Las Vegas, Miami Beach. K1 has taken the traveling pretty hard - way harder than I ever would have anticipated. That made for some pretty significant behavior problems, but I've been home now for a solid two weeks and this last week saw much improvement.

Work has been stressful, and as someone who is used to enjoying her job (and making work fit around my life rather than the other way around) it's been draining. I'm trying to figure out how I can disentangle myself from a situation that isn't bringing out my best self, while at the same time maintaining relationships and filling the financial hole that would be left from leaving it behind. Feel free to share ideas :).

Being in chronic hip pain hasn't helped the mood of course ;), but there aren't really any updates there except to say that my next step this week is to have an MRI done. Forty-five minutes encased in a tomb for a mildly severe (yes, I know that's an oxymoron) claustrophobic has me just a teensy bit apprehensive. Luckily my mom is coming along to make it bearable, as only moms can. Side note... during both of my labor/deliveries there was a distinct moment where no one but my mom would do. I believe in those moments I used the words "mommy, I can't do this." Needless to say, she was able to convince me that I could, in fact, do it. And so it will be with being buried alive this Wednesday, 12:30 pm.

Family life has had some ups and downs as well this summer, and again, what can be said except to everything there is a season. We must take the highs with the lows. It's nothing cataclysmic, and every once in a while you need to be reminded how important and valuable it is to truly work at something.

I would love a week off of work and mommyhood and life to just sit and organize and clean my house, room by room. I want it so much that I practically crave it. Not having that, I spend a few minutes each day trying to tackle a task that unfortunately needs a lot more than just a few minutes each day. But you know what they say about perseverance - it's the hard work you do after you get tired of the hard work you already did. And so, I persevere.

So here we are, the last few weeks of summer (this IS my favorite time of year, though I've hardly stopped to enjoy it) and I am determined to make it end on a high note. K-squared is doing well, the weather is gloriously hot, I've got a pool pass and a whole truckload of ideas for ways to hang out in the sun. At the end of the day, isn't that the good stuff we're always pining for? My cup runneth over.

Labor? Pshaw... Try Hip Pain.

2008-07-10T16:23:00.002-06:00

So I thought the worst pain I've ever experienced was labor pain. You know, the contractions near the end where your body is DYING to push but the doctor is telling you not yet and you are just barely hanging on waiting for the contraction to peak and then come back down? I thought that was the worst pain ever.

But then I experienced hip pain. This isn't new for me - I have a lot of hip pain (which also contributes to lower back pain and knee pain). I was born with my hip dislocated, and though they took care of it while I was a baby, as I've gotten older I've noticed some side effects. Both of my knees popped out of joint in high school, requiring extensive physical therapy over the years. After childbirth my hip was so bad I couldn't bend down and pick up K1, and after K2 I finally broke down and saw a chiropractor for about a year until I was feeling good again. So my point is, I've had hip pain before and while it can be extremely uncomfortable it doesn't compare to labor pains.

Until now. For reasons unknown to me and apparently unknown to every medical practitioner I've consulted, the pain in my left hip has escalated to unbearable proportions. It really started last Thursday, the day before we were set to make an 8 hour car drive. Thinking I was just out of alignment, I went to the chiropractor. Unfortunately that did nothing for the pain, and I spent the drive on Friday cringing and desperate for every stop so I could get out of the car and out of the most painful position of all - sitting.

After a weekend of trying every (legal) drug I could get my hands on to no avail, and wishing I had access to a whole bunch of illegal drugs, by Monday the pain was so intense I was having a hard time taking breaths. We were supposed to drive the 8 hours back home but only made it about 1 hour before we had to stop at the ER because I was ready to just amputate my lower half. At the ER they did give me better meds, and they took x-rays, but couldn't see something specific that was causing the pain. And despite the pain medication I still spent most of the drive on my knees backward facing the kids until car sickness set in, at which time I would move to the side and face B.

So now I'm back, and I am reminded of why HMO's are not my favorite. The earliest I can see my primary care physician is next Tuesday, and the orthopedic surgeons are booking out in September right now. Apparently they are ok with me surviving on pain meds until then. Me, not so much. So who knows. It's amazing how intense pain can make you pretty dang cranky. And lose your appetite. And any gumption to do anything. Ugh.

Artistic Expression

2008-07-02T21:55:00.003-06:00

Ever since I saw this over a week ago, I just haven't been able to get it out of my head. It is so powerful, so meaningful. I. LOVE. IT.

So you think you can dance-bleeding love

Homage to Five

2008-06-20T17:21:00.007-06:00

Five reasons I'm glad you're 5:
1) We have fabulous conversations. Especially when you're in grown up mode, and talking like an adult. It's one of my favorite things.

2) There is so much you can do on your own, and we are in that small window of time where you actually are excited to help.

3) You tell me you love me all the time, you still want to hear lullabies at night (even though we both know I can't sing) and you're ALWAYS willing to cuddle and hug.

4) You are big enough to help your sister and smart enough not to act like you're helping her. We all know how independent she likes to be.

5) You get to start kindergarten this year. You've been waiting now for over two years, and I'm glad its finally nearly here so you can stop asking me! :)

Five reasons I'm sad you're 5:
1) You are TOO big! Even though you're still little :) you're the biggest kid I have. And despite all my pleas and begging, you insist on growing until you are as big as your dad. Boo.

2) You talk like a big, grown up regular kid now. No more "mad" for dad or "Hi Wubby Wubby!" for "Hi Mrs. Lovely" or "f***ingmingo" for "flamingo".

3) You five years older means I'm five years older. Ack.

4) You now have the vocabulary to accompany your emotions. Which means I get an earful whenever you're mad. I could do without that.

5) The older and bigger you get, the more boring boys clothes get. Don't worry though, you're still a hot little number - mommy sees to that!

5 things that make you, YOU:
1) Your whine. It's like your own personal calling card.

2) That physique. Not an ounce of fat anywhere - solid muscle. So muscular in fact, your veins pop out on your calves.

3) Those soulful baby blues. Such big eyes, to match your big heart.

4) Your utter adoration, hero-worship of your daddy.

5) Genuine gratitude for the smallest of things. What other kid gets truly giddy to open a present of socks?

5 things I wouldn't change nomatterwhat:
1) Your easy going nature. How quickly you get over things, how easy it is to distract you from a hurt, frustration or disappointment.

2) Your smile. It's perfect. Truly.

3) Your genius. I can't believe how quickly you figure things out. After five years, you STILL surprise me.

4) Your gregarious nature. So friendly, so accepting.

5) That you still let me baby you, whenever I feel like it.

5 nicknames (of about 60) that you answer to:
1) Noodle
2) Monster
3) Yeah-Yeah
4) Bugger
5) Bonehead

And 5 ways you've forever changed our lives:
1) The first boy in my family in THREE generations! Now that's something spectacular.

2) You've brought childlike joy to all the normal things. You can get excited about anything.

3) A Ready, Set, Go!! mentality. Nothing moves slow when you are around.

4) You taught me absolute, adoring, unconditional love. And somehow that love seeped in to every other area of my life.

5) You give us something to be happy about, every single day.

Musings

2008-06-04T23:25:00.005-06:00

So yes, my kids are outgoing. This is not new information. I have spoken about this before. But I must say, it surprises even me sometimes.

Like a recent party we went to as a family. B and I knew only one person at this entire party. It was filled with people - mostly adults - and as you do when you know no one, you tend to find a person and make random small talk. Not K1 and K2. They marched themselves around to meet everyone they saw - bumming treats, sitting in laps, petting dogs, sneaking off to other parts of the house to 'explore.' You name it, they were up for it - with anyone who would take them. By the time we left they knew everyone. And everyone knew them.

Or the other day, when taking advantage of a (finally!) warm day without wind, I was driving with each of the kids' windows rolled down. We had stopped at a red light, and before the light turned green they knew the driver next to us was named Richard and that he was headed to the post office. Richard, in turn, was treated to each of their names and the fact that they had been to the fountains that day and had just woken up from naps and we were running some errands. It was a lovely conversation shouted between the two cars and Richard, wherever you are, thank you SO much for indulging them.

These are the moments that I treasure, and these are the personalities I have been gifted. Am I the biggest lottery winner on the planet, or what?

A Red-Letter Day

2008-05-27T18:42:00.006-06:00

A red-letter day got its origins back in the middle ages, when churches used to mark their festivals on the calendar in red. Today it typically means a day to be celebrated, a day where everything comes together and is, if not perfect, pretty stinking good. In terms of PR, Red-Letter Days don't come around too often. There are too many variables at play ... whether the client can really produce what they say they can, whether a reporter will actually be interested, whether everyone's schedules come together at the right time/right place, and whether the end product is something everyone can agree on. PR is a field of study based predominately on rejection.

I've been working on a charity event for my cousin's denim line (well, the non-profit extension of her denim line). The concept was simple enough: create a contest where students at inner-city schools create drawings based on a certain theme. The winning drawing is then featured on a limited edition, exclusive line of Sheiki shirts - sold in 1200 boutiques and high-end department stores around the world. Proceeds from the sales of the shirts are then returned to the school district, to be used in their art programs.

The complicated part came in that I was given this task at the end of February and it took me two months (TWO MONTHS!!) of proposal writing, phone calls and emails to find out that our target school district had a strict policy against these types of contests (apparently only one person of about 32 knew this. SO helpful). On a whim (and with some help from my sister) I contacted Denver Public Schools and they were extremely interested, and extremely in need of some art funding. Of course, all of this came about at the tail end of April, and the contest had to be completed before students last day of school - May 28th.

So, my May was spent knee-deep in logistics, creating posters, submission forms, a website and contest rules. I had to get submission forms in time to be distributed to 33 middle schools, and returned with enough time to choose a winner. I had to arrange for my cousin to fly out on a day she was available, while students were still in school, to announce the winner. I had to notify the district execs and the student's art teacher to arrange a time. I had to come up with an appropriate gift to give the winner, when we made the announcement. I had to do this all by myself, away from the rest of the company, because for some reason I seemed to be the only one concerned with all the details (sure, they LOVE it as a concept, but let someone else figure out how to make it run). And I had to write a press release, and pitch the story.

So needless to say I was concerned that all my moving parts might not come together in a cohesive way. But if there's one lesson I've learned, its that the most chaotic behind-the-scenes often result in the smoothest productions. So today I had the sheer joy of meeting up with my cousin and her husband, driving down to the school and surprising the winner in her 2nd period art class with a basket of goodies that probably outweighed her. We got to accept gratitude and accolades from her art teacher and the district. We got to watch the winner be cheered and congratulated by her classmates. And then, our ABC affiliate called me to say they saw my pitch and wanted to cover the story. So on today's 5 pm news ran a full package story that included interviews with the winner, her art teacher, and my cousin the designer. We even got a mention on the company's website - and a link shout-out directly from the anchor!

So in PR terms, it doesn't get much better than that. I tend to be modest in a work environment because things don't go smoothly more often than they do, and when you do hit a home run its best to be gracious and humble. But today I had to take a step back and congratulate myself on a job well done. It was such a fabulous event, and it made this young child's day, and her artwork will be featured on celebrities and fashionistas all over the world. And yes, without my work it wouldn't have happened. So I'm marking May 27th in bright, neon, cherry red.

Life Lessons

2008-05-13T18:49:00.003-06:00

Not sure why I feel compelled to write this, maybe so a record exists somewhere that I (and perhaps K-squared) can be held accountable to. When your day is filled with the immediate and the necessary, sometimes you lose sight of those all-important, long term goals. So here they are, set in stone (or in the blogosphere as it were). These are the things I want to pass on to my children. The traits that I want to indelibly mark on their delicate souls:

1) Kindness. This is by far the number one thing I hope to instill in my children as I believe its an umbrella for so many traits I want them to possess. If I can just teach them to be kind to everyone, no matter what, and that kindness is always more effective than any other tactic. This is not to say I want my children to be doormats, or that I think the solution to every problem is just to "be nice" but I do want them to show a genuine empathy and compassion toward their fellow man. In my own life experience, it is the kind people who have traveled the farthest, and been the most successful. True success comes when we can serve others and when we truly care (not just pretend) about how others are doing and what we can do to help.

2) Confidence. This is an extremely close second to kindness - I consider these first two to go hand in hand. I am hopeful to teach my children confidence in who they are and what they believe in, stand for, and want out of this life. I hope to teach them confidence in their ideas and their questions, in their convictions and their capabilities. I believe true self confidence helps ground you as a person, and keeps you from being too swayed by peer pressure when you're young, what others think as you get older, and your own self doubts as you get older still. The strength that confidence gives you is immeasurable - both to the outside world and to your internal perspectives.

3) Adventure. I hope my children will have a healthy sense of fearlessness for trying new things and exploring new opportunities. I hope that they will crave the unusual and that they will take pleasure in stepping out of their comfort zone and finding ways to stretch themselves. I hope they don't get too comfortable in the day to day and the typical. I hope they look back on their lives with very few regrets from not having tried something they wished they would have.

4)A love of the Gospel. I hope that my children will not feel that church is just one of those things they HAVE to do, but instead that they find a true personal relationship with Christ. I hope they lean on my testimony when they need to (and I hope I can provide an ongoing strong example to them for that) but I hope that soon enough they develop their own unique convictions and strength of character and that it helps to see them through many tough life choices. I hope they learn to lean on their faith, and that they grasp the greater picture of eternity, rather than just the here and now. I know how comforting it is to have faith and believe in Christ, and to lean on Him when life gets challenging and difficult. I also know firsthand how sometimes doing what is right seems difficult in the moment, but always pays off in the end. I want my children to experience this for themselves, so that they are motivated to try their hardest to do what is right and build their own personal testimonies of Christ and the gospel.

5) Always doing their very best. I am a firm believer in the old adage that if a job is worth doing, it is worth doing well. I have said all along that my children will not disappoint me if they fail, only if they fail to do the best they are capable of. Particularly when it comes to their education, I hope that they will always try hard and strive to succeed. I want to teach them how satisfying it is to give something your all - even if the outcome is not what you had wanted or expected. B talks about leaving everything out on the field - you can't regret how the game went if you gave it all you had.

6) Perspective. I think this is one of the hardest things to learn, no matter how old you are. I want to teach my children that everything is really just how you look at it. The hard things are just opportunities to grow and learn, the scary things are opportunities to be brave, and the impossible things are opportunities to discover our own capabilities. No matter what we are facing in our lives, if we can shift our perspective we can open ourselves to immeasurable possibilities.

It's an Ill Wind...

2008-04-30T23:25:00.005-06:00

I don't know why they call Chicago the Windy City. I think if we were to measure number of days, duration, and wind gusts we would give them a run for their money out here. I have a friend from Florida and she says back home, this is what they would call "hurricane force" winds. Apparently here, it's just another day.

In fairness, I don't remember it ever being this windy. But lately it's been non-stop. And sure, the temperature might *say* it's warm outside, but you walk out and are accosted by a non-stop barrage of wind and suddenly you're more miserable than if it was 30 degrees and at least still.

I've decided I'm not a fan of the wind. So there. Wind, wind go away. Can we please just have one full week of spring? PLEASE????

On a side note, K1 asked me today why I had a band-aid tattooed on my arm (I've got a birthmark that looks just like one). This was after he informed me I had been arrested the night before. In his dream. Apparently I broke in to somewhere with an alarm system, and according to K1 they took me "down to the station." After telling B, he said perhaps he should curb K1's watching of COPS. Great. Now I'm the white trash skank screaming at the po-po in my underwear trying to defend my crack-injecting, wife-beating spouse even though I'm the one who called him in. I wonder if K1's dream had a soundtrack running through it? "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do..."

Model Perfect

2008-04-23T13:53:00.010-06:00

So a couple of months ago my cousin (the one who has the denim line) sent me a child's shirt (a new venture) and asked me to have K2 take some photos in it for the website. Nothing fancy, just something to say that a kid's clothing line was coming soon. I explained the task to K2, who was more than happy to oblige.

Aside from the rockstar hands and tongue shot, I did no prompting. If you know K2's personality, it won't surprise you. She's a model in the making.

Worth a Thousand Words

2008-04-09T15:14:00.012-06:00

Here are some photos of my K-squared because I know you've all been jonesing (or maybe that was just me):

I'm sure this will be worth money some day. Black mail money.

Serious easter egg hunting. BTW, this was K2's third dress of the day...

Yes, that's an Irish flag in her dress. She's a true patriot :).

This mountain was a lot harder to climb than it seems in the photo...

Success!

My true snowman... K1 stayed outside long after the other kids had their fill of snow and cold. I think he would stay out until his fingers and toes fell off, if he had his way!

A walk with grandma (perhaps a secret alliance to find more eggs...)

And though we also enjoyed a fabulous trip down to New Mexico, unfortunately we forgot our camera so we have no pictures to share! But, we'll enjoy the wonderful memories made with grandma B and grandpa D, auntie G and uncle D, and of course all of the crazy cousins!

Discouraged

2008-04-06T06:37:00.005-06:00

I'm a pretty feisty person, to say the least. I'm not one to back down from an altercation, in fact you'll usually find me front and center, willing to argue until everyone involved (except me of course) is exhausted.

I'm not sure if its a positive trait or a negative one, it probably depends on the situation. I like that your average stranger is usually taken aback by my willingness to engage, as I think the relatively benign, mom-of-two facade throws them off.

But yesterday I was faced with the meanest of means, and by that I was truly taken aback. B was working and my sister had come up and we enjoyed a nice picnic in the park and play time on a rare sunny spring day. Later, after the kids had napped and my sister had said goodbye, I told the kids I would take them for ice cream. We went to Baskin Robbins because they have the "pointy" cones, of which K-squared had requested.

The shop was crowded with no place to sit, so I got each of the kids a cone and one scoop in a cup for myself, and we headed outside. Unfortunately the wind had kicked in again and it was too cold to eat outside, so K2 suggested we head to the car. I had K1 stand by his door while I went to put K2 in her side. I'm holding my cup of ice cream, K2's cone, and trying to help her get buckled into her seat. In the process, the seatbelt gets dragged across the ice cream, and I'm working to clean that up.

As I do this, a car pulls up wanting to park in the space right next to me and having to *gasp* wait because I've got K2's door open while I'm putting her in. My back is to the car but they gun the engine in an effort to get me to move I guess. I look back at them, shut the door around me as I continue to help K2, and mutter about not being able to wait 5 seconds. The car pulls in, and out gets a girl and a guy out of the front seat, and a third girl with a 2-year old child on her hip from the back (I actually don't notice any of this at first, because I'm focused on K2). As the girl with the baby gets out and walks by me (with no trouble, I might add) she heaves a big heavy sigh and says "f***in fatass." WHAT?!?!?!?

I slam K2's door shut and said "What did you say to me?" at which point she said "You heard me." I walked up to her on the sidewalk and suggested she repeat it, to my face. She again said, "You're a f***in fatass." I looked her up and down and said "really? you're calling me fat? really?" and she replied yes. I then told her it was a fine way to talk around her baby, and as I stepped back off the sidewalk I told her she was a real winner. I got K2 in the car while this group headed into the shop, all the time looking at me and laughing. As I walked back around to my side of the car, I grabbed my brand new cup of ice cream, deliberately looked at them looking back at me, smiled and waved, then dumped by dark chocolate and peanut butter all over their car. The guy came running out as I drove away, and let me tell you, it felt good.

Then, I called B and proceeded to sob out the story to him. And this is the thing: these people were nothing but low-life scum. And truly, I don't use that description for many people. But trust me when I say it's an accurate use of the term. So why do I care what this uneducated woman, who was obviously showing off to her friends and must be an entirely miserable person if she's capable of such nastiness to strangers, thinks of me? It's because the fat-thing is my Achilles heel. Everyone has a weakness right? Something they are sensitive about? Well, that is mine. This woman could have insulted my intelligence, my looks, my place in this universe and it would have been water off a duck's back. But call me a fatass and she's got me sobbing for the rest of the afternoon.

I HATE this about myself. If there was one thing I could change it would be that. This overwhelming insecurity that rears its ugly head all too often and in the most inappropriate of times. And then some stranger comes along and is able to derail any confidence or self-esteem I might have. This is my problem, I get that. This woman has probably spent no more time giving me any thought (except of course, for having to scrub off the sticky, melty ice cream - haha). So why am I dignifying her disrespect and cruelty with anything more than slight annoyance? I don't know.

All I know is that I am 31 years old, I have a wonderful marriage and happy family. I have two beautiful children that I gave birth to, and I am capable of playing and running around with them and doing all the things I need/want my body to do. So when am I going to get over this stinking insecurity???? And how in the world am I going to keep all of this from K2??

A Beautiful Easter

2008-03-23T20:19:00.005-06:00

Jesus Christ. It's like His name was in the air today. I'm kidding - it is Sunday after all, and Easter Sunday at that. But my, the Spirit seemed to be extra powerful today, testifying of our Savior and reminding us of his phenomenal sacrifice and love.

Today we combined the young women into one group for our lesson, and me and the YW President split the lesson in half. We set up the room with one long table and chairs set around it, with two plates full of large loaves of bread and cups set aside for grape juice. My half of the lesson covered the final week of Christ's life leading up to the crucifixion, and her half covered the burial and resurrection.

I spent some time over the course of a couple days attempting to prepare for this lesson. Truth be told, I thought it would be fairly easy. I mean, I've read, studied and learned a TON about these final days over the years, and I would say I know a fair amount about my New Testament gospel accounts. But I wanted to get the facts straight, and I wanted to add that little something extra that would help the girls really understand His last week with all of its significance and meaning and symbolism. And as I read and studied I grew more and more frustrated. It seems all I could find was incredibly deep, dry and somewhat questionable information. I was surprised - I thought this would be the kind of information available in spades from just a simple Google search! I finally turned to the Church website (something I should have done from the beginning I suppose) and even still I felt a little unsettled and not quite prepared as fully as I wanted to be by the time the YW hour came around.

I got there a few minutes early and the two of us had a prayer that the Spirit would be there as we taught and that the girls would be receptive to what we were teaching. We asked them to be quiet and reverent as they came in and sat down around the table, and they were as much as a group of 12-18 year old girls can be. We started by singing all three verses of I Stand All Amazed and at that's when it started - the waterworks. By me. I was crying - that ugly cry where I just wanted to sob - but I did my best to contain it and instead just streamed tears out my eyes. I could hear the girls' clear, sweet voices all around me as they sang this beautiful song about our Savior and all of the studying I had done over these past few days came at me in a rush and I was reminded of my profound testimony of Christ.

And that's the best word for it - profound. In my church, we talk a lot about testimonies - gaining a testimony of this concept or that spiritual principle. And our testimonies are always a work in progress. And while I have a testimony of important things such as the restoration of the gospel, eternal families and the principles of service, nothing holds a candle to my absolute faith and unwavering testimony in my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

As I recounted that last week of Christ's life, the most significant week in all of history, I was reminded of how meaningful each and every event and every use of His time was. From His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, to His killing of the fig tree, to the unfair Q&A session in the temple with the cynics, to the Last Supper and to the most important event of all - the Garden of Gethsemane, Christ continued on his mission and did not waver once. He knew of the pain he would suffer and He knew of the betrayal he would face from those He loved, yet he continued on and still loved each and every one of those who would hurt, betray, forsake and forget Him. In that Garden He took not just our sins, but our pain, our trials, our suffering, our fears, our doubts and our personal agonies. He accepted them all so that we might have a way to return to our Heavenly Father and so that, while we are here in this life, we can know that there is at least one other person in this world who does know exactly what we are going through.

His love is beyond measure, His sacrifice beyond comprehension. That is my unwavering testimony. It is the yardstick by which I measure every other faith-based concept I believe in. He is my Savior, my Rock and my Redeemer. I am ever so grateful for that testimony because it is the most precious gift I own and the most important thing I will ever share with my children.

Life Choices

2008-03-14T09:19:00.003-06:00

I have a good friend from college days who thinks I know every cliche in the known universe. For her sake, these are a few that have been going through my mind lately:

"Walk a mile in my shoes"
"Don't judge a book by its cover"
"People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones"

It's the idea that the choices we make are somehow lacking in someone else's eyes. It's the idea that you have to explain yourself to anyone and everyone who asks the question because the simple answer isn't good enough. What it is actually, is annoying as hell.

This comes in a variety of ways, the example that I'll use today is the planning of one's family. Why in the world do people take such a personal and profoundly private subject and parade it around for debate and opinion? Why in the world would I think that my personal feelings on the number of children to have or not have is somehow relevant to anyone else around me?

And yet people make all kinds of assumptions ... oh you need another child - two just isn't enough. You're still so young, you'll have more. As soon as they get a little older you'll miss having a baby at home. And on and on and on. You know what I want to yell sometimes at the top of my lungs?? (Besides the obvious shut up, mind your own damn business, and if I wanted a chaotic life with forlorn children like yours - sure I'd have a dozen) What I want to yell is "I AM HAPPY WITH MY LIFE THE WAY IT IS!" What is wrong with that?

Truth is - I LOVE my two children. I LOVE that they are so close together. I LOVE that I have one of each. I LOVE that we are out of the baby stages and safely ensconsed in some of my most favorite times - toddler/preschool/potty-trained/fully functioning child-dom. I hang out with friends who are pregnant or who have young babies and I breathe a secret sigh of relief that I am not them. I go gift shopping at Babies-R-Us and I feel a little wave of nausea as I walk through the aisles and remind myself that I'm not there for me. I sing a chorus of hallelujah's every month that mother nature tells me once again, in no uncertain terms, that I am not pregnant. I am not one of those women who wants to hold everyone else's babies. Sure, I'll happily babysit for you because I love to serve, but the whole time I'm doing it I'll remind myself how its only for a short while and then its back to normal with my own two kids.

But that's just me. I applaud other women who want housefuls of kids and admire their strength and management skills. And I applaud other women who can't imagine life with kids at all, because at least they are honest with themselves. And I applaud everything in between. I applaud women who work outside of the home 40+ hours a week (let's face it, most of them put way more in than 40) and then come home and do all the work that is required of them there. And I applaud those women who stay home to raise happy, healthy, intelligent and fully-loved children because that is by far the hardest and most demanding use of time in the entire world. And I applaud women who adopt other children and I applaud women who give up on fertility because its just too hard. And I applaud women who get kicked in the teeth by people all around them who want to step in and tell them how their decisions about their families should somehow be different, or could be better, or are mistaken or are short-sighted.

And you know what else I applaud? The right to be any of those afore-mentioned mothers at any given time of our lives. In other words, I applaud the right to change our minds.

@#$%! Spring DST

2008-03-09T04:44:00.007-06:00

I do not like Spring Daylight Savings Time.

I do not like moving the clocks *forward* and losing one hour.

I do not like that this translates to losing one hour of sleep.

I do not like that this happens on a Sunday morning.

I do not like that I forget about this Saturday night when I stay up until midnight.

I do not like that I wake up at 3 am and remember this, and stress to the point that I can't fall back asleep again.

I do not like that all the clocks are on different times.

I do not like daylight savings plans, I do not like them Sam-I-Am.

Brag-fest

2008-03-07T09:48:00.004-07:00

So, my beloved B has started his own blog and I am super excited! It has just begun (only one post) but I am sure it will provide hours of endless entertainment as it grows, because he has a) a most interesting outlook on things, and b) a sardonic wit that he writes well.

So, enjoy! If you want the yin to my yang, check out http://clusterofnuts.blogspot.com. Feel free to leave him a comment and let him know how he's doing from time to time. I think he'd love to know that someone besides me is reading and enjoying it!

Just Say No

2008-02-29T09:50:00.003-07:00

K-squared have this habit about asking what everything means. I love it - I truly do - because they're inquisitive and they really absorb the answers. But sometimes its hard to answer every question. They have to know the meaning behind everything, and sometimes the answers are so complex (or even obsure to us adults) that I'm not always sure how to answer.

But I am a big proponent of the truth, and I have a habit of talking to my kids sometimes like they are peers. So, they know that most songs on the radio deal with unrequited love, or a man leaving a woman or a woman leaving a man. They're wise to the fact that there aren't always happy endings, and sometimes people make mistakes they can't take back. They know that Dr. Phil helps those who can't help themselves, and that if Oprah says it, it must be gospel truth. And then there's the commercials... Well, the best way to share that is with the following story:

There's a commercial that plays sometimes in which a girl is talking to her dog and the dog is telling her that he misses the way she used to be and doesn't like the new her, all strung out on pot. K2 saw this one day a couple of months ago, and asked me why the girl was talking to her dog. Distracted by something else no doubt, I gave her the brief rundown on the meaning of the commercial. Fast forward a couple of months to today, when the same commercial aired. K1 saw it this time and asked what it meant. Before I could answer K2 jumped in with "She's having a loose-nation. She thinks her dog is talking to her cuz she's whacked out on drugs." Well, there you go. She had it right, and K1 was happy with her explanation. Though he did ask me what a loose-nation was and I had to remind both him and K2 what hallucination meant and why we only put good things in our bodies.

Everything is a teaching moment.

With a little help from my friends

2008-02-18T21:41:00.007-07:00

My life would not be possible without a whole army of people that I rely on at a moment's notice to help me navigate the chaos. Yes I get to work from home which means I don't have to put my children in daycare or employ a full-time nanny, but every time I have to go out of town or another unexpected glitch hits my schedule I turn to my rolodex and the pillars of strength in my world.

There is always at least 10 people to call if I need someone to watch K-squared, and that doesn't even include my mom, sisters and husband (all of whom work full-time, unfortunately). On top of that, I have friends who can drive me to and from the airport, help out with my church calling, and even check in on my family while I'm out. Virtually anything I could need, there is someone willing to step in and offer a helping hand. How richly blessed I am.

I pointed this out to one said friend, and her reply was that it was that way for all of us. That made me feel so much better -- like maybe I'm not taking so much advantage as I sometimes feel that I do. Truth is, I really enjoy doing things for other people and I am so grateful when they offer me the opportunity. I try and remind myself of that when I'm on the asking end and feeling so very guilty.

And for the benefit of those who think I lead a glamorous life (Melin), my week was spent in heels trucking miles and miles around the Las Vegas strip. After day one I was already nursing bruises and blisters and some very achy feet. I did get to see some great clothes, got a few cool freebies (and a couple of trend-setting fashions at wholesale prices thanks to my cousin's buyer's pass!), and saw some b-list celebrities (Snoop Dog, eh. Nicky Hilton, blech.). I met some talented, driven creative-types but mostly I met a lot of people who care a great deal about who everyone else is, what their status is, and what they can do for them. I got kissed on the cheek a whole lot (much to B's dismay) and generally served as a calming presence to the mayhem that surrounded me. For those of you who know my temperament you can only imagine what a madhouse it was if I, in fact, was the calming presence.

It's good to be home, it's good to be centered, it's good to detox. I love that I can step into these various worlds through my work, and just as easily step right back out of them again. Thank you to all of those out there who help make that possible for me, and take such good care of my beloveds while I'm off on these crazy adventures.

Secret Societies

2008-02-06T12:09:00.000-07:00

My children are very in to secrets these days. It seems they've learned that information is power, and the witholding of information is absolute power. When you ask them what they learned in school they like to say "it's a secret." When you ask them what they did with daddy they like to say "it's a secret." When you ask them what game they are playing they like to say "it's a secret." When you ask them what they want for lunch they like to say "it's a secret." It can be a bit maddening, but also kind of funny. I like that their little 3 and 4 year old minds have found a way to yield some power in this great big overwhelming world they are in.

And, in honor of Valentine's I thought I should throw out a couple of other reasons I love my children. Yes, I'm just a typical mother which means I can't help but find my children amazing and wonderful, but these are some of the quirky things that make me happy on a regular basis:

* Both my kids, especially K1, are great healthy eaters. In fact, they generally eat their veggies before anything else on their plates. And they haven't met a piece of fruit they didn't love. K2 drinks milk like it's going out of style, and they both prefer milk, water or OJ over any kind of sugary drink. It's a great big sigh of relief for me knowing I don't have to fight them on this.

* They are great friends. Even though K2's pregnancy was unplanned, I can't imagine what K1 would do without her now. They are each other's best friends and constant playmates. They always want the other around when they are doing something fun. They make up fabulous games and act out surreal fairytales. Today they went "camping" using the old changing table piece that went with the pack and play as the "boat" and the arms of the pack and play that held the baby toys as the "tent" spikes, with a baby blanket over to make the tent. So cool!

* They are lovey-dovey cuddlers. K2 likes to tell me I'm her "best mommy" and K1 needs regular snuggles and cuddles throughout the day. They still fight over me on a regular basis, and each HAS to be held for a while after they wake up from their naps (thank heavens they wake up at different times!). They ask me on a regular basis if they are my "babies" and I induldge them in this bit of immaturity. I'll keep them my snuggle-babies as long as I can manage.

* They wear underwear on their heads. Willingly. In fact, it's their idea.

A Case Study in Stress

2008-01-16T13:27:00.000-07:00

I am a stress case, most of the time. A worry wart. An obsessesor over things which cannot be controlled. So it's not necessarily a New Year's resolution or anything, but I would like to produce a little less adrenaline and perhaps a bit more of a devil-may-care attitude about things. I began this idea today:

Wake up to a semi-dark room, a few minutes before 7 am but (thankfully) not to kids screaming or tattling or sticking their cold hands and feet somewhere on me. I take the few extra minutes of quiet to say my morning prayer and read a bit of my latest book. I can do this. I can be peaceful internally, quiet, calm. All is well.

I get out of bed a little before 7:30 and go and meet the kids in K1's room. K2 is jumping on the bed, naked except for her skivvies, munching on graham crackers (three violations! No helping yourself to food! No food in the bedrooms! No jumping on the bed!). I am calm. I am happy. I give her a hug and greet her with a "good morning" and suggest she put on some warm jammies. I find K1 playing under the bed with his own bowl of graham crackers. I greet him warmly as well, and suggest some breakfast.

We go downstairs. It smells very bad downstairs -- oddly bad. I locate the culprit - our 1 year old dachshund has pooped all over her kennel. It's 10 degrees outside, so I can't just leave her out there, and it's too cold to stand outside and clean the kennel. I don't have time to give her a bath because I have to get the kids breakfast and ready. No matter, I am in control. I am relaxed. These are minor problems. I put her outside long enough for her to go to the bathroom, then transfer her via towel to our other dog's large kennel downstairs.

I get the kids breakfast and check my morning email -- not too much to have to do right away. I take care of the little things and get myself and the kids ready. Only minor whining - K1 wanted to take toys to school with him (as usual) and I said no (as usual) and he whined (as usual). Whining gets on my nerves, something fierce. I'm still calm but I can feel my state of supreme peace slipping slightly away. Deep breaths. I am Zen.

I take K1 to school, and only when we're pulling in do I realize I've forgotten his coat. This sounds worse than it is - he is wearing a fleece jacket over his shirt, but if he's going to be outside for any length of time today it won't be sufficient. I run in with him and check with his teacher, who says they probably won't be outside and even if they are, they have extra coats. Ah, this new attitude is paying off. Things always work out.

We head home where I get K2 her second breakfast of the day, and remember that I haven't eaten yet either (this is common for me, and not at all good. I will often forget to eat until 1 or 2 in the afternoon and then make up for it late at night which is TERRIBLE!). I make myself some breakfast, because I am a calm, easy-going and carefree person.

My visiting teachers are 10 minutes late. Now 10 minutes isn't a big deal, except that I have a conference call immediately following their visit of which I have to be a bit early because I am going to have to jump off early to pick up K1. In other words, my schedule is non-negotiable. But when they come, they bring fresh baked banana chocolate-chip bread. I remember that I am breezy.

I start my conference call on time, but two key players are 5-10 minutes late. This means I have to race through the agenda items because I have to jump off early. It's getting hard to stay relaxed. I take deep breaths. I talk extra fast. I jump off with three minutes to spare, grab K2 minus shoes and a coat and stick her in the car to go get K1.

It is brutally cold outside, and on the way to get K1 I somehow set off the panic button on the jeep. I stand outside, growing colder by the minute, desperate to shut off the honking. It takes longer than it should. On the way back home I see a cop and very breezy-like shift my foot from the gas to the brake. I don't have to look at the speedometer to know I'm speeding because I am ALWAYS speeding. That's probably not very zen-like.

We get home and I fix the kids a snack and put on the second load of laundry. Today is laundry day, though it should have been yesterday but all I accomplished yesterday were the towels and sheets. This is nothing to stress about however, because this is the new me. I check the messages (a new job, yay!) and put the dogs outside long enough to eat.

I still haven't been paid for my November invoices, and that is causing me to stress, so I focus on that for a minute and try to overcome my worry. It's hard to do, and I feel myself derail just a bit. Truth is, there isn't much I can do about it but wait. My, this is a hard lesson for me.

I put the kids down for a nap and settle in to work, but first I decide to call Walmart to check on an item we bought online and had delivered to the store, because it saved us about $80. Aside from the financial savings however, I don't EVER recommend purchasing anything from Walmart this way. In fact, I don't recommend purchasing anything from Walmart at all. No, I'm not one of those who thinks Walmart is evil - in fact, I applaud their genius capitalism and find it all so fascinating, but I am somewhat of a snob and am happy to pay more for quality customer service which you will never receive at Walmart.

Case in point: It took 15 days to ship to the store (as opposed to the 3-5 it said it would take if we had it shipped to our house), and then we were never notified that it arrived. I called the store to check and was asked for my name, which I had to spell - about TEN times. FIRST AND LAST. My last name is not hard, btw. I had to wait on hold about 20 minutes, and then was told in a bored voice that yes, it was there and no, she didn't know how long it had been there, and yes I could pick it up and no, she didn't know if my husband could pick it up in my place. I hate her. But I am Zen, and Zen is me. We don't hate (I guess).

I then try to work, always a mistake. I think my house must emit signals when the children are sleeping that says "call! ring the doorbell! excavate land!" anything that counts as a disruption is fair game when I'm trying to work and the kids are trying to sleep. It's getting harder to stay breezy. I'm feeling pretty stormy in fact.

I take more deep breaths. And eat pistachios. I don't know if pistachios offer any secret form of relaxation, but the methodical cracking of shells helps to center me. I pick up the computer again. The phone rings again. It's a nasty cycle. K1 comes back downstairs. So much for getting work done during nap time.

I have to make plane reservations, because I am going to Scottsdale at the end of the month to help out with Superbowl parties, and Las Vegas mid-February for a major fashion conference. Booking travel stresses me, mostly because I have to figure out who is going to watch my children while I'm gone. And the trip in February is for four whole business days. That's a lot of time to ask people to watch your children. I try not to get too ahead of myself, and just focus on booking the tickets. I can't help but remember that these trips mean I'll be wearing skin tight jeans and rocker tees, hobnobbing with celebrities and fashion bigwigs. Yes, this can be exciting but it also is a bit nerve-racking, particularly given that I am SUPER TYPE A and most of these people cannot be bothered with deadlines, details and other such nuisances. But I did just get my hair done, and my new cut is just sassy enough for the red carpet I'll have to be chaperoning. I am zen again.

And now its the post-nap, before-dad-gets-home time of day which is by far the hardest, mostly because the kids haven't fully woken up from their naps and are kind of cranky and I'm kind of cranky because their naps are over and I didn't get done all I wanted to and now I have to start thinking about dinner and rearranging my evening schedule to accomplish everything I need to. The blithely low-pressure side of me is facing some serious setbacks.

And then B gets home and we sit down to dinner (and I say a quick thank you for easy-to-chop veggies like zucchini and squash because hey, you've got to be grateful for the little things) and we talk to the kids about their days and I am calm once again. And then we do something that the kids absolutely enjoy - watch a rerun of America's Funniest Home Videos - and laugh at what the kids laugh at. Pretty soon its time to tuck them into bed, and stress levels go through the roof as I try to get them to go potty, get in their pjs, brush their teeth and actually get into bed without whining and crying. Eventually I settle down with B to watch some TV, relax and (yes of course) work.

All in all, its two steps forward, one step back for this new cool-headed, serene self (for example, I'm still stressing about folding all of that newly washed laundry). But I'm not opposed to giving it another whirl, though I would be remiss if I didn't put out a warning to some unsuspecting driver or store clerk or telemarketer who crosses my path when I'm ready to uncork all of my pent up frustrations this new Zen me won't allow for. I'm just saying. You've been warned.

And so it begins...

2008-01-04T00:04:00.000-07:00

...the New Year that is. It came around faster than I wanted. I kept trying to bargain with time to just slow down a bit so I could really relish in the season and not blaze through with everything on my to-do list. Apparently when it comes to time, I've got no bargaining power.

But even though it all took place in warp speed, it was still filled with wonder and joy and so many fabulous memories. We had a fantastic Christmas Eve, close to the way I remember it growing up, with lots of family and friends and chaos and laughter. The kids enjoyed somewhere between 4 and 5 major gift-opening events, which led them to believe that opening presents was the new world order. And B and I ended the holiday by telling ourselves that next year, we really need to cut back ;). We'll see how that goes.

The most exciting news of course was that we *FINALLY* got the basement finished and moved all of the toys and furniture down there in time for our New Year's Eve party. I am absolutely loving the extra space, as are the kids. Now they not only have room for all of their toys, but actually room to spread out and play with them. The old playroom is going to be my new office, while my old office will be the new exercise room. I spent quite a bit of the holiday time off going through and cleaning and organizing the house, so I'm feeling that purge-high that I live for.

K1 and K2 are ready to go back to school and dance (for K2). They still aren't the greatest with the concept of time, and they can't really figure out why they aren't going back to school. I've enjoyed not having to carpool each and every day, and they really have been so busy with all of their new toys I'm surprised they've noticed. K1's excema has been out of control - it's so severe it looks like he is covered in burns. I've been spending a great deal of my day lotioning his skin with everything from Aveeno and Eucerin, to his prescription creams, to neosporin, peroxide, this special soap my cousin found, some high-end serum my mom heard about, and even Crisco. If I had any science know-how I would probably just develop my own cream - I know exactly what it feels like - I can't imagine why someone hasn't figured out a remedy by now! Ugh. So if anyone has any new-fangled way to approach an age-old problem, let me know.

And so the New Year is shaping up to (hopefully) be much like the past year. I can't complain, life is good. We're safe, our needs are met, we have wonderful family and friends, and our home is a happy place. If we can just get a magic potion for K1's legs, I might venture to say that things are just as they should be.

Happy Birthday to Moi!

2007-12-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

Sometimes adult birthdays can be less than spectacular. Just another day filled with the same errands, the same to-dos, the same "stop"s "don't"s and "where in the world did you get the marker?"s. And as an adult, I think I should be pretty ok with that. But truth is, I like to feel special on my birthday. It seems deep down I'm still five years old I guess.

And as it tends to be with birthdays, the ones that should feel special sometimes don't, and the ones that seem fairly ordinary turn out to be pretty special. And so it was with this one. I turned 31 on Monday, which seems pretty ordinary to me (minus the fact that I am now - officially - in my thirties. blech). But fortunately, due to the wonderful people I am blessed to have in my life, it turned out to be extraordinary.

It started with Friday night, when my older sister took K1 and my younger sister took K2 for the weekend. B and I headed up to Vail after work to have dinner with my cousin who was up their skiing with her husband. We met up with them and another couple who had joined them for the weekend, and had a fabulous 3 hour dinner. A dinner that didn't even start until 8:30 pm. It's not often these days I am eating dinner at 8:30 pm - and I can't remember the last time I got to enjoy a 3 hour dinner. Afterwards B and I headed home, getting to bed by about 2 am. It was such great couple time, and such great adult time.

Saturday morning we got up and grabbed an early lunch, then headed to the temple to do a session which was a wonderfully peaceful and much needed respite from the holiday madness. Saturday night B took me to The Fort (a really nice, gourmet steak place). Yes, for those of you that know me well you are probably wondering why B would take me to a steak place for my birthday. I wondered that too. The ambiance was beautiful, and the dinner highly romantic, but I told him for his next birthday I'm taking him to tea at the Brown Palace. Payback's a bee-otch. After that, he took me to a play, which was a lot of fun.

By Sunday it was back to reality, in that we had to get the kiddos again and attend to our weekly duties at church. My actual birthday was a great day, with phone calls and emails from so many people - I can't believe how many people remembered (particularly given the closeness to Christmas - I'm used to people overlooking it). And so many warm wishes and kind words - what a fabulous way to remember how much you're loved. B came home with a dozen long-stemmed red roses, plus two white ones to represent the two of us. Ahhh, so cute ;). And I ended the day with a fabulous girl's night out - 5 of my girlfriends for dinner/dessert, sans kids of course!

So all in all, I couldn't have wished for a happier birthday. It's wonderful to know that your small place in this big world is noted and needed by others. I gather so much strength and happiness from the amazing people I know. Love to you all.

Pensive...

2007-12-10T23:39:00.001-07:00

Ugh! I am so woefully behind in posting anything to my blog. And the more behind I get, the more it seems too daunting to try and catch up. The truth of it is, I am suffering from writer's block. It's a malady that doesn't affect me often - words are my life. Writing for myself, writing for others, talking non-stop. I'm one of those people who is very rarely - if ever - speechless. It drives B batty sometimes, how I always have something to say immediately and he has to stop and gather his thoughts (you can appreciate his frustration when the discussion might be a bit heated and I'm rambling on and on, 20 steps ahead of where he wants to be).

Anyhow, for some reason when it comes to my personal thoughts I seem to be stunted. I can go on endlessly these days with my to-do lists and required tasks and must-get-dones. I guess all of those things are crowding out the part of my brain that might think of creative or interesting things to blog about. I feel a bit foggy.

But that doesn't change the fact that it is the holiday season - my most favorite time of year - and I don't want to overlook all that we are experiencing with K1 and K2. It's all the traditional stuff, but I love that in the 3 and 4 short years of their lives we have already developed traditions. Things like Santa's Village with the L family who have to travel an unfair amount of distance to keep it a tradition, and the insanely cold Parade of Lights downtown, and picking out their yearly Build-a -Bear, and choosing just the right Christmas tree at our favorite lot, and introducing the kids to new holiday shows and story books that become instant favorites. The holidays are magical, there's no doubt about that, but holidays with children are phenomenal. I relish it every year.

And though it's later than it should be, I can't let the Thanksgiving holiday come and go without making mention of what it is I am thankful for this year:
1) A healthy, happy family. Sure stress will come and go, and there will always be something to worry about (especially when you're me!), but you can't put a price on healthy and happy. It's a blessing beyond measure.
2) My husband. He is grand. We have built a solid, honest and giving partnership together. It has taken work, and it has taken humility. He has provided both in abundance.
3) Prayer. And the scriptures. And tithing. And all the other ways the Lord asks us to contribute just a little, so He can return blessings in abundance.
4) My home. Just having one. A warm roof over my head and food on the table and clothes on our backs and enough for some fun extras from time to time.
5) Technology. Specifically the DVR and my Blackberry. Two little gadgets that make life a whole lot more fun and informative.

A Fairytale Ending

2007-11-01T14:26:00.000-06:00

So Halloween has come and gone, and like all good things - it must come to an end. Otherwise we might be ready to dig ourselves a literal grave after hauling kids to one party/event/activity after another, which was preceded by the crazy running around looking for various costume parts and treat bags and what nots. Then there is the carrying around of said costume parts and treat bags and what nots after the children have been at the activity for all of five minutes and decide they don't want to hold that stuff anymore. So yes, it was fun, and yes, it's time to move on to bigger and better things. Namely, feasting on roast beast and the all-too-important and ever-so-cherished Christmas season! :)

Bye Bye Baby

2007-10-08T08:48:00.000-06:00

It seems lately that we've been saying farewell to a lot of "baby" things and moving on to the next phase of our life. While I am not overly excited about my children growing up non-stop, I can't say I'm sad about leaving the baby stage behind.

Here is a list of just some of the things we no longer need (hallelujah!)

* bottles
* diapers
* high chairs
* bibs
* baby food
* binkies (a.k.a. pacifiers)
* pull ups (except on K2 at night, and I can live with that)
* cribs
* a diaper bag
* traveling with a pack-n-play

And, some of the things we've been able to embrace:

* toys for children "3 and over" (though K2 is still guilty of putting EVERYTHING in her mouth. But that's just her - that will never change)
* step stools
* booster seats in daddy's car
* athletic gear/dance gear
* getting dressed on one's own
* playing in the backyard while mom stays inside and works
* long, thoughtful conversations
* chapter books

And finally, some things are considered "baby" but we love them so much they've now become a staple in our lives:

* wipes - for anything and everything
* carrying snacks everywhere you go
* no-spill sippy cups
* snuggling

So what about you? What things are you glad to see go, what things are you sad to see go, and what things will you never let go?

Spidey-Sense

2007-10-06T05:14:00.000-06:00

Last night I got to thinking of the quote "With great power comes great responsibility" as I held my K1 and tried to get him to sleep. It was late at night - much past his bedtime - and he had one of those annoying coughs that make it impossible to rest. The kind that strangles you the minute you lay down flat on a bed... that is so persistent it causes your eyes to water and your throat to constrict and continues until you are sure you are going to vomit from the constant choking sensation.

So, I took him downstairs and just held him, stroking his head and telling him it would be ok and that I would make it better. And slowly his little body relaxed, and his eyes shut and he started to drift.

And I got to thinking that being a mother entails a whole lot of responsibility. I am responsible for making sure my children's basic needs are met, from shelter to clothing to nourishment. I am responsible to guide their spiritual growth from a young age. I am responsible to expose them to all kinds of learning opportunities, that their minds may develop and that they may be given every opportunity in this world to succeed. I am responsible to provide a loving, nurturing environment where they feel safe and accepted.

But with all that responsibility comes the sweetest of powers. I have the power to heal my babies... maybe not in the same way a doctor or modern medicine can, and certainly not in the way Heavenly Father can, but in a way unique to mothers. I can comfort and console my children in a way no other person can do for them. I can make things better... I can quell feelings of fear, heal feelings of physical discomfort, calm feelings of anxiety, and soften feelings of sadness. I have the power to be my children's anchor in a storm, and warm blanket in times of discomfort.

So, move over Spiderman. I am a mother, and that makes me the most invincible of superheros.

Simple Majesties

2007-10-05T12:16:00.000-06:00

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies.
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies.

Lord of All to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

A Birthday Message

2007-09-29T07:32:00.000-06:00

To my Angel Baby:

Today you turn 3, which seems a bit strange to me as I've been treating you as if you are 3 for probably the last year or so. Blame it on the fact that you are so incredibly verbal, and you do pretty much everything your older brother does. In fact, those rare times when you actually acted 2 surprised your dad and I so much, we thought you must have regressed :).

What a joy it is to parent you... three years ago I was just getting the opportunity to meet you. I had no idea of your incredible spunk, moxy and sense of humor. And oh, your determination. Sometimes I just wish I could distract you, or change your mind. But once you get an idea in your head you are very rarely persuaded.

You are the consummate girly-girl. You are dress up and lipstick and beautiful sparklies. You are frills and fairies and flowers. But with that girly side also comes one of the toughest attitudes I've ever seen. You don't let anything - or anyone - annoy you. You are opinion and confidence and righteous indignation.

You know that you are the smartest, and most beautiful, and most fun. And I love that you never question that. You have a sense of humor that belies your young age - and a real understanding of sarcasm and wit that keeps the rest of us in stitches (and K1 wondering what is so funny).

You are my Singing Bee. You sing constantly - changing words and lyrics to fit your mood and making up songs on the spot about anything and everything. You are a performer at heart, and have eagerly awaited the opportunity to enroll in dance for an entire year. I can't wait to see your first recital.

I often wonder how Heavenly Father could believe that I was worthy to be your mom, but I suppose its just because He realized how much I could learn and grow from your presence in my life. You are a blessing beyond measure, a continual source of love and light.

Happy Birthday my sweet Baby Girl. I anticipate many more wonderful adventures to come.

Love, Mommy

Rush of Days

2007-09-22T09:56:00.000-06:00

My September has gone so quickly I'm not entirely convinced someone didn't steal a few weeks from me. A brief synopsis and pictorial of our adventures this month:

K1 started PreK. I must emphasize here that he is in PRE-K, not PRESCHOOL. This distinction is very important to him. I am most proud of my kind natured little guy, who has been so very concerned with a little boy in his class who is suffering extreme separation anxiety and cries pretty much every day. The other day when I went to pick K1 up, he said "goodbye Ch..! I want to be your friend!" He's worried that the reason this little boy cries is because he doesn't think he has any friends.

We began the month with a much needed break and trip up to Steamboat Springs which, if you've never been, I highly recommend. So beautiful, so quaint, so relaxing. We joined the super fun L family for the weekend with what will hopefully become a tradition of spending 3-day holiday weekends together. While there we played on the Alpine Slide, the Hot Springs, and throughout the fun resort town. So nice to be together as a family with no distractions, so nice to have time with B. Ahhh, vacation. We need more of them.

My cousin came to visit for a few days, bringing her own adorable spitfire who, at 13 months, is an old pro at walking, running and making up her own mind. It was fun to have the second generation cousins together - we'll see what adventures they get to experience through the years.

Soccer season has started which is one of my favorite things to be a part of, and we are lucky enough this year to be on a team filled with friends. It makes the games that much more enjoyable. K1 really loves his soccer and K2 isn't so happy that she still has to wait another year before she is old enough. But, it looks like we'll be enrolling her in dance in the next couple of weeks, and she's so excited she's been practicing her twirling and dreaming up the perfect dance wardrobe.

Work has been a bit crazy for me this month - client drama and new product launch preparations and lots of writing. I did get to San Francisco to do some media training of corporate execs, which is one of my more favorite presentations to give. The execs were cool guys and it was fun to be a professional again. Plus the offices were right by my old ones and I loved being back in the city, smelling the Bay and listening to the street performers, stepping over the bums and feeling the cool winds whip around the buildings. I will always treasure the time I spent there.

So now we are headed into fall and I can't say I'm disappointed. I'm still not a huge fan of winter past December, but I've really grown to love fall and the transition into cooler weather. I love fall activities - pumpkin patches and halloween carnivals and scenic drives. Plus it leads up to my most favorite time of year - the holiday season - and there is nothing better than anticipation.

The Sweetest Words

2007-08-30T18:13:00.000-06:00

So my dear sweet K2 climbed up in my lap this evening and, since B and K1 were off to run an errand together, I asked her what she wanted to do. Her reply? "I want to watch the news." Ah... sweet bliss. She is my child.

Speaking of K2, she (finally!) started preschool this week. I throw in the finally because she has been eagerly anticipating this grand event since even before K1 started preschool last year. When it comes to school, she was born ready. I did get a tad bit choked up as I got in the car and watched her hold her teachers hand into the school. But mostly I'm just proud of her. I'm proud that she has no reservations - that she didn't hesitate to introduce herself to her teachers, the other kids and half the parents too. I'm proud of her gregarious nature, and her anticipation that everyone will love her. I'm proud that she comes home afterwards and gives me the complete play-by-play of everything she experienced. And I'm proud of her for loving every aspect of the new experience.

And even though yesterday was one of those days when I seriously did not want to be a mother anymore, today was much better and I was able to be the kind of mommy I want to be. So thank goodness there are those days when you're almost as proud of yourself as you are of your children.

So You CAN Teach an Old Dog...

2007-08-26T08:59:00.000-06:00

Grandpa D and Grandam B came to visit last weekend - much to the kids delight. They don't get to see them nearly often enough, but I love that it doesn't deter them from being SUPER excited that they are coming out. Of course it doesn't hurt that Grandma and Grandpa bring fabulous presents and take them to do wonderful things. I am so very grateful for the presence of Grandpa D and Grandma B in my children's lives, and in B's. They have been a powerful and rock solid influence for him, and they bring to my children unconditional love and grandparent-ly fun. Of course as a parent you want your kids lives to be filled with uncomplicated relationships and lots of love, and Grandpa D and Grandma B serve as B's extended family and provide those familial relationships to K-squared. B and I both are so very appreciative.

In other news, I put the kids in swim lessons this week. It's just for one week, with a woman from my church who teaches just the two of them during the lesson. It works out well because they get the one on one time. Unfortunately its the end of summer and a week is all we could fit in. At the beginning of next year I plan to get them in for two weeks straight to really solidify their swimming skills.

But the best news of all is... I LEARNED TO SWIM!!! ME. Me with the fear of water that (thankfully) has abated as I've gotten older. On the second day of the kids' lessons the teacher asked me what I was doing afterwards. Since the answer was 'not much' she said 'great. you're getting in the water today.' Ugh. This teacher has taught women with far greater fears than I though - women who couldn't even put their face in the water. I saw these same women going through the pool on a kickboard just a week later and figured she must be doing something right. I went into it ready to do whatever she asked me to do and - this is the part where I kid you not - I was swimming in 15 minutes!! Their teacher was laughing so hard - she said there must have been an inner swimmer in me just dying to get out.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not an Olympian (ha!) and I still have a lot of skills to learn, but the important thing is that when I'm in the water I actually know what to do. From there I can just build on those skills. Ridiculous I know to be 30 years old and not be able to swim, but I can't remember the last time I was so incredibly proud of myself. I feel that I overcame a fear and released a monkey on my back in a big way. I love that I didn't let my age stop me, or think that I missed my opportunity to develop a new skill. So yes, I'm blowing my own horn (toot! toot!) but it was such a euphoric feeling and it reminds me that - no matter what your age or stage in life - there is nothing more thrilling than trying something new and stepping out of those comfort zones we're so good at setting up all around ourselves. Next up for me... snowboarding! Winter's coming, it only seems right. :)

One For the Record Books

2007-08-15T13:57:00.000-06:00

I suppose I've experienced a rite of passage today in the parenting of a toddler. For all of K1's behavior struggles, I haven't ever had to deal with a public tempter tantrum. Today K2 tarnished that perfect record. In fact tarnished is too kind of a word... destroyed, maimed, desecrated might be more appropriate.

We are continuing to work on potty training. She is SO close, but its like we're nearly at the top of the hill and that last mile is proving treacherous. She understands what it means to go potty, she sometimes does it completely on her own, she sometimes tells me she has to go, and other times she just pees and/or poops in her pants and doesn't give it a second thought. It's been frustrating to say the least.

Anyhow, school starts in two weeks and while its not a requirement, I would REALLY like her to be PT once and for all. Today she's been doing a great job, and I had to run to Target. I told her if she could keep her pants dry all day then she could pick out a backpack for school. Now if you know K2 at all, you know how incredibly over-the-moon she is to go to preschool. Getting a backpack is nearly as good as actually going to class, so she was very much on board and ready and willing to keep her pants dry.

While in Target however, she was sidetracked by a princess clock she just HAD to have (K2 is all about anything princess of course). Anyhow, I told her she would not be getting a clock today, that she didn't need it, and that the deal was a backpack if she could behave and keep her pants dry. This started her crying and whining, at which point I told her if she didn't settle down she wouldn't get a backpack at all today. This elicited screams and full-blown tantrum mode. To make a long story short, I couldn't calm her down and certainly was not going to give in to her screaming demands, so we hurried as fast as we could to the front of the store, paid for our stuff (with me apologizing to the poor people all around me having to listen to her incessant crying and ear-splitting screams), and then went to the car and drove home. She screamed the entire way, so as soon as we arrived I put her straight in her room. She must have screamed for an hour straight. UGH.

Now I know why they say boys are easier. K1's behaviors - though frustrating in the extreme - are at least short lived. K2 is going to blow a vein I fear. Have we finally reached the terrible 2s/3s with her? I dread this more than I can express.

K2's unique personality traits - that I love more than anything - are what are going to make her difficult to discipline I'm afraid. She's incredibly obstinate, stubborn and determined. She's also very bright and gifted when it comes to communicating, and reading other people. I think she knows where my weaknesses are, and plays to them. I think she purposely attempts things in public that K1 never would, because she knows its embarrassing for me and hopes I'll just give in. She's far more manipulative than K1 is, and much more cunning. She is one of those children who, when she decides she wants something, is not averse to using any method to get it. She does not take well to no - and though this all sounds terrible it actually can be a very good thing. She doesn't like failure and often pushes herself to do something that might feel too difficult, but on the flip side of that coin she is prone to having fits when things don't go according to her plan.

As much as I truly "get" K2, because we share a lot of similar traits, I find it easier to interact with K1 at times because he is much more rational and has always been a child that can be reasoned with. There is an element to K2's way of thinking that truly baffles me. I wonder if she and I will struggle with these power plays for years to come? I firmly believe in the theory of pick your battles, but be sure when you choose one you win. Because when it comes to K2, failure is most definitely NOT an option.

Senseless Sensibilities

2007-08-10T01:05:00.000-06:00

It's 1 am and I'm trying to work and I'm really too tired. Sometimes the words flow easily, sometimes its like trying to extract water from rocks.

Does anyone out there have any creative ideas about biometric identity matching and multi-modal fusion?

I'm fresh out.

Some Things Money Can't Buy

2007-08-04T19:47:00.000-06:00

Shirt size: 18 months

Shorts size: 24 months

Age: 4

Wearing the same clothes three summers in a row... PRICELESS.

Streams of Conscience

2007-07-30T23:27:00.000-06:00

Even though I haven't posted in a couple of weeks, I have been writing. I've got a few random posts where I just stopped to write what I was thinking/feeling, but then never really got back to them. So, I'll just list them all out here... there's no real rhyme or reason, and they don't all have a clear point... but here are some of the inner workings of my mom-addled brain ;).

The Spirit Is Willing
All of my primary kids were out on Sunday, which meant I didn't have to teach. Instead I got to spend a glorious day at church on the receiving end of the lesson. Very nice. And I enjoyed a wonderful epiphany as we discussed Christ's time in the Garden of Gethsemane and how, despite their best efforts, the apostles still managed to fall asleep three times during Christ's biggest hour of need. And so, the Lord admonishes them with the statement that the Spirit is willing, but the Flesh is weak.

And what I realized is that we fight that battle every day. For most people, the Spirit truly is willing. I want to do what is right, I want to grow in the gospel, I want to be an example of Christ-like love and patience and service and faith. I know the truth, I know the right thing to do, and I really want to do it. My Spirit is willing. So why do I mess up each and every day? I suppose that goes back to the fact that my Flesh is so very weak.

It's Either Far or Not Far
That title is an ode to my sister - she has some great -isms and that was one of my all time favorite responses to B and I's question when we first moved to Colorado about where something was located.

Anyhow, its appropriate for what I want to talk about today - perspectives. You know the saying that the grass is always greener on the other side? Have you ever discovered that's true about our own lives as well? Sometimes life is like a Monet painting. When you look at it up close, it can seem like a mess of to-do lists, worries, frustrations, stresses and one-steps forward only to take two-steps back kind of moments. But then when you change your perspective and look at the whole picture, things really come into focus.

I'm not sure how it happened, being absorbed as I am sometimes in the minutiae, but wow I have an amazingly blessed life. I've got two of the most wonderful children God ever made, a good husband and a wonderful marriage, a supportive and fun extended family, fabulous and loyal friendships, a firm belief in the gospel and the purpose of this life, great health, a job I love that allows me to be with my children, a comfortable home in a family-friendly neighborhood, a nice car to drive, clothes to wear, food on the table and plenty of extras. Honestly, what do I have to complain about, and is it really worth it?

Untitled
One of my favorite quotes is by Abraham Lincoln: "I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday." I have to say, I agree with Honest Abe. Whenever people ask me about my pet peeves, the number one item on my list is stupid people. And right underneath that are people who either a) act dumb or b) don't think they are capable of learning something new or difficult.

I get a lot of excitement from learning - about a variety of topics. I'm certainly not going to say that I am fascinated by every subject out there, but there are a lot of things that initially I might not think I would find interesting and turn out to be quite stimulating. And, I always find knowledge has a way of feeding on itself. You learn about one thing and it helps you understand the next, etc.

I don't know why I am writing all of this - probably out of frustration I suppose. I have some friends out here who I love dearly but with whom I am the "smart" one. Certainly I appreciate the compliment, yet it doesn't quite feel so much like a compliment as something that sets me apart and makes me un-relateable. I just have a hard time understanding it. These women are by no means dumb, yet I constantly check the words I use or the topics of conversation I bring up for fear that it will again label me as too "brainy."

Yes, I love talking about my kids and I love talking church and running a household, and other random stuff. But I also love talking about politics and technology and current events and books and films. They aren't mutually exclusive are they? Of course not. I have lots of friends who prove otherwise. I think this post is just my own attempt at therapy. It's hard to whine about being called "smart", but that's not what I'm trying to do. I just don't want my intelligence and interest in learning to somehow ostracize me -- and it shouldn't. But grrr, I do feel that way sometimes.

Whatever the case, those are traits I sincerely hope to pass along to K-squared. There is nothing more fascinating to me than an individual eager to learn about the world around them. And one should never stop learning, and having a real passion to do so. It's what motivates me to keep going.

War and Peace

2007-07-13T15:39:00.000-06:00

Parenting is hard. That's my epiphany for the day - ha. Parenting K1 has been a struggle lately, and by lately I mean the last couple of months or so. Parenting is one of those things that is easier in the abstract. When you're not in the thick of it, the answers seem pretty straightforward. But when you are dealing with the same behaviors day in and day out, it can seem so futile and fruitless.

Sometimes I feel as though I am in some sort of hamster wheel - constantly spinning but not getting anywhere. K1 and I struggle through nearly predictable patterns... he does something he isn't supposed to, I correct him, he ignores me, I put him in timeout, he throws a fit, I send him to his room, he throws a bigger fit. There are variations, but that's the general pattern. I'm trying excruciatingly hard to be consistent -- I want him to understand there are consequences for his actions and those consequences are absolute. But mostly I just want to have a good day. A good day that doesn't consist of me blithely ignoring his bad behavior while he does the exact opposite of what I just told him to do, but instead a good day that consists of him (mostly) doing what I ask when I ask it and accepting my responses to his demands without whining and crying.

I've heard more than once that an easy baby makes for a hard toddler and a hard baby makes for an easy toddler. Well, K1 was about as easy a baby as they come. I'm not pigeon-holing him as a 'hard kid' yet though - he's got a great temperament and is just trying to assert his will. I know my job is to help him learn boundaries and channel his assertiveness. I just wish it was easier. Sigh.

Memoirs of a Summer Devotee

2007-07-11T09:44:00.000-06:00

I sat outside last night for a while and listened to the rain. It was coming down really hard, complete with lightning and thunder. I have always been a huge fan of summer thunderstorms. In fact, I've never quite understood people who are scared of them - they are so deliciously inviting. As I sat outside I couldn't help but rewind to my childhood and how much I loved those severe, flash flood, desert thunderstorms. The smell of wet cement and wood flashed me back to my past and I spent a few moments just relishing in my memories.

I love how my parents bedroom and bathroom always used to smell in the summertime - fresh, like a mix of soap and nature. I love how the air outside would smell like rain, sometimes hours before the first drop fell. The summers I spent in the backyard every day with the my sisters and the neighbor kids... climbing trees, playing house, running through the sprinklers, or trying (successfully) to fry an egg on the hot sidewalk. The 4th of July parties our entire neighborhood would throw - a parade, bbq, games and communal fireworks. The summers, when as an older teenager, I worked with my friends, and we spent our paychecks shopping at the mall, our free time sunning at the pool, and our evenings cruising for guys and fun parties.

Sometimes getting caught up in memories makes it hard to drag yourself back to the present. Mostly because I can't believe how long ago all of that was, when it still seems so fresh in my mind. I can't believe my kids won't ever know that side of me. But I do wonder what they will reminisce about one day. What will K-squared look back on from their childhood with a sense of wistfulness? I hope we are creating a menagerie of beautiful memories for them to pull from, much like my own, and that their childhoods are as fun and carefree as any childhood should be. And I really hope that their summers carry the same sense of magic mine always have.

Charm School

2007-07-07T03:33:00.000-06:00

I get told a lot that my kids are outgoing. Outgoing, strong willed, determined, opinionated... those are words I hear often. I've said before in this blog that I wouldn't trade their personalities for anything, and I mean that. I'm glad I don't have shy kids. Nothing wrong with shy kids, but my own personality seems to relate better to the stubborn, obnoxious and extroverted ones.

If you ever happen by my children in a store, or out on the street, chances are you will be barraged by a litany of questions... "what's your name? how old are you? what are you doing today? what's your baby's/mom's/dad's/friend's name? why are you buying that? do you know my mommy? are you two friends? where are you going?" and the list goes on and on. In addition, you will be treated to more information than you ever needed to know, such as their ages, their own names, the names of each other, my name, their dad's name, our ages (they have to keep asking us this question as they often forget), what our plans are for that day, where we've been, where we're going, any special events coming up in our lives, and whether either of them have had any punishments or mishaps that day.

I am so used to this behavior I hardly even notice it anymore, but it always takes me by surprise the people that are genuinely uncomfortable by two small children talking to them. So, if there is anyone out there reading this blog that finds themselves out in the world with one or two or ten very curious, insatiable children, here is my advice: talk to them! Interact with them. Say hi (loud enough for them to hear), smile, and share a snippet of information. You don't have to stop for long, and you don't have to get too personal, but you would be surprised at how much it makes their day. And take it from someone who is as curious as they are... it's fascinating to learn about the people around you! I promise they won't bite. They won't even laugh. That's the great thing about small children -- they take everything at face value. No judgments.

And the best part about this idea is, you won't have to hear as you breeze past my two louder-than-is-usually-necessary children yelling "He/she can't hear me! Why aren't they talking to me? They can't hear me! I should say it again, louder!"

Happy Birthday USofA!

2007-07-07T03:14:00.000-06:00

I love the 4th of July... it represents so many things I love about this time of year. Hot sunshine, cook outs, water, family, lazy summer days, watermelon that drips down your chin, the smell of sunscreen and sand. We spent the day at the lake with some friends who own their own private lake (swanky). The kids had so much fun - I had to beg K1 to actually stop and eat and drink something midday.
I don't believe he ever would have left the water. K2, of course, stopped to eat about 5 or 6 times. She is her daddy's girl.

Speaking of B, this was one of his first experiences spending the entire day on the water - fun boat toys and all. Now he finally understands why I reminisce so often about my time spent camping out at the lake. All of those summer weekends add up to sheer joy for me. B tried wakeboarding and didn't do too bad for his first time out. We also had great fun tubing behind the boat and woke up to very sore muscles the next morning (hey, how'd we get so old so soon?).

So Happy Birthday America -- thanks for the sunshine and the fireworks. It was a killer party.